Harvest of Dreams (The Gods' Dream Trilogy)

by Debra Holland

  Thaddis’s determination to lead their mission to success radiated from him, seeming to stir some response from his warriors.

  Cheta went from person to person, sniffing legs. The dog lingered near the people sitting on or against the rocks—the ones the most shaken by the shipwreck. She nudged the hand of one man with a slack expression. As he stroked her back, life started to return to his eyes.

  Figuring the act of bending over would make Philan’s head ache, Sadie stooped and picked up a rock that she could barely get her fingers around and handed it to him.

  With a grimace, Philan hefted the stone.

  “Are you all right?” she asked, concerned at his sluggish movements.

  He shot her a grin that didn’t meet his eyes. “I’ve fought with a sore head before. Although usually it was from a rousing time the prior evening.” His expression sobered. “I’ll do what I must.”

  Not relieved by his attempt at humor, Sadie shook her head at him and stooped to pick up a smaller rock for herself. She joined Meleda at the line of soldiers readying to climb the stairs.

  Philan moved to stand at her back.

  She knew the Seagem man must be hurting. Otherwise, he’d have positioned himself at the head of the pack, right behind Thaddis. But Philan’s a warrior, she told herself. He’s used to fighting through pain.

  Meleda glanced up at the light, concern tightening her mouth. “I can feel the power of the Evil One.”

  Sadie concentrated, trying to figure out what the warrior-priestess meant. Through her othersense, she could feel the presence of heavy, dark energy that dragged at her spirits. She put a mental shield around her body and visualized the calm presence of Guinheld, the strength of Withea. Ontarem’s ominous energy receded somewhat.

  On the other side of Meleda, Sadie recognized the stocky body of Adama, the female soldier from Seagem, her springy hair pulled into long waves by the weight of the water. She too had her sword. Sadie glanced up the line relieved to see almost everyone had retained their weapons. Only a few soldiers or sailors interspersed between those with swords carried rocks in both hands. She nudged Adama with her shoulder, a silent gesture of recognition and support.

  Adama turned and gave her a tight smile in response, before her gaze went past Sadie. With an exclamation, she stepped out of line, determination in the set of her shoulders, to grab Wenda’s arm, yanking the priestess over to them.

  Wenda protested, trying to pull away.

  “You’re unarmed,” Adama said sharply. “Our only priestess. Right now you need to think about yourself. If you’ll have enough difficulty climbing this.” She tilted her chin to indicate the mountain. “You can’t prop up anyone else. The men are stronger. They will help each other.”

  Wenda bit her lip. Turning to some soldiers behind them, the priestess ordered them to aid those she’d been helping and took her place in line.

  Adama nodded in approval. She glanced at Sadie and her gaze lingered on Ganawen. Her hand dropped to cover her sword hilt. “Good. You retained your sword. Fight to the death. You don’t want to be taken by the seadogs. Nor can we allow Wenda to be captured.”

  Hearing what the woman didn’t say made shivers run down Sadie’s spine, and she swallowed a sudden lump of fear. “To the death,” she repeated, making the words a pact.

  ~ ~ ~

  The staircase led up and up, the risers narrow, forcing Thaddis to put his weight on the balls of his feet. The stone he carried grew heavier. Before long, his calves started to ache, and he took a few seconds to turn sideways and stretch them.

  Cheta had trotted at his heels. The dog sat, her tongue lolling.

  The line of soldiers snaked beneath him. Only a few individuals remained on the beach.

  Thaddis wondered where Sadie was in the pack of people and hoped she’d begun the climb. He searched, spotting her in the middle, and was relieved to know she’d listened to him.

  Looking out to sea, with a sudden spike of sadness, he saw the Wave Rider had finally disappeared beneath the water. Even crippled and sinking, the vessel had given him an anchor of familiarity. Without the presence of the hulk, he knew they were truly alone in the midst of Ontarem’s territory.

  As his breathing eased and his beating heart calmed somewhat, Thaddis recognized another energy thrumming around him. Ontarem. The feel of the Evil God’s power, dark and familiar, sent a spike of terror through his chest. Although after a minute, he realized the energy wasn’t directed at him, but traveled along the ray toward the prison of the SeaGod.

  Movement on the ocean to the south caught Thaddis’s eye, and he squinted, trying to see in the light of the beams. Longboats. He counted three, and searching, found another.

  “Pass the word down,” Thaddis said quietly to Boerk, who’d climbed behind him. “The pirates are in sight. Four longboats full of them. We need to hurry.” He turned and began the trudge up the stairs, setting a steady pace. Urgency snapped at his heels, but he resisted the impulse to rush, knowing that he’d only lose his wind before he’d gone far. His soldiers hadn’t endured the same arduous days and nights of training he and Sadie had experienced in the last week, so they’d have a hard time keeping pace with him anyway.

  The stairway crossed a path, leading around the side of the mountain. Heavy foliage grew on either side. For a few steps, Thaddis had level ground, and he stretched his calves again. The line of men trailed behind him about ten feet. Until they caught up with him, Thaddis stopped to listen for sounds of pursuers running down the track toward them, but didn’t hear anything from either direction.

  Cheta sniffed the air but showed no signs of alarm.

  Thaddis glanced upward, noting they’d climbed about a third of the way, and then he looked down at the water. With a clench of fear, he saw the longboats had almost reached the shore.

  Boerk caught up with Thaddis, and paused, chest heaving, to catch his breath.

  Thaddis dropped a supportive hand on the man’s shoulder and squeezed.

  Boerk looked surprised, then gratified. He nodded his thanks.

  The brief respite over, Thaddis took a deep breath and resumed the climb. Too soon his lungs burned, and his calves ached. Sweat dripped down his chest and back. He gasped for air. But he didn’t stop, not even when he heard distant shouts and screams of pain below him, knowing Trey was accounting for more than his share of seadogs.

  A quick lifted glance toward the peak showed Thaddis they’d reached the halfway mark. But he didn’t stop moving. With concern, he wondered if everyone would have the stamina to reach the top.

  The closer Thaddis came to the peak, the more he felt Ontarem’s power pulsing down the beam, as dark and malignant as the light was bright. The Evil God’s energy took a toll on his body as much as the hike did. The staircase narrowed, and he dodged thorny branches that reached out to grab him, trying not to inhale the bitter scent that made him dizzy.

  Thaddis paused, straightened, and took several deep breaths of humid air, waiting for Boerk and the next soldiers to catch up with him. He could no longer see the end of the line, but the sounds of fighting carried to his ears.

  I should have made sure Sadie was directly behind me where I could keep an eye on her. But he’d thought she’d be safer in the middle of the pack. He consoled himself with the knowledge she was with Philan. The two of them working together would be more than enough for a dozen reavers.

  One more deep breath, and he began to move. The source of the beam grew brighter. Another path bisected the stairway. This time, when he stopped to listen, he heard the slapping sounds of running feet to the right. Forcing himself to be calm, he drew his sword. “They come,” Thaddis yelled at the men behind him. With his blade, Thaddis pointed down the path. “That way. Stop them.”

  Led by Boerk, a combination of soldiers from all three countries charged down the path. Thaddis let about thirty men pass, then with relief, he saw Sadie and Philan following the Seagem fighter, Adama. Wenda labored behind them.

 
; Sadie reached his side and paused, her expression fearful, watching their men run down the path. Cheta trotted to her side, sniffing her leg. Adama and Meleda joined them.

  Thaddis pointed upward. “All of you keep going.” He shot a stern glance to the dog and Wenda. “But halt before you reach the light. There are probably guards.”

  Philan nodded and grabbed Wenda’s elbow to propel her across the path.

  Thaddis turned his back to the women, making sure he was between them and the potential threat. He counted off the soldiers, not wanting to send more than a third of his force around the side of the mountain. He trotted a ways down the path, to check if he could see around the curve. Shouts and the clash of swords told him his fighters had engaged with the reavers trying to intercept them.

  Behind him, he heard Cheta’s bark. Holding his position, he glanced over his shoulder.

  Cheta faced in the opposite direction, four feet planted, nose pointing down the left side path, fur bristling.

  Sadie yelled and pointed. “They’re coming from the other way.”

  They’re going to surround us. His heart leapt into his throat. Thaddis barely had time to pivot. I need to get to Sadie!

  Sadie stood by herself on the path a few feet past the stairs.

  Meleda, already halfway up the stairs above her, turned to dash down them.

  Behind and to Sadie’s left, Adama shifted to a fighting stance and braced herself, blade ready. “Seagem!” she cried. “Yadarius!”

  The two women absorbed the impact of the enemy, blocking and slashing.

  The force of the seadogs’ charge pushed Sadie back to Adama’s side.

  The Seagem soldier, with her strong, stocky body, dug her feet in and held her ground.

  The narrow path didn’t allow room for Thaddis to get past the women, and he didn’t dare reach out and pull Sadie behind him. Helpless, he watched his beloved battle for her life.

  ~ ~ ~

  A half-naked pirate bearing down on Sadie flashed her an evil grin, obviously expecting an easy fight from a woman.

  The stones in the hilt of her sword sparked blue, and Ganawan’s energy raced through Sadie’s body. Each move made the blade sing. She blocked his thrust, her swing a little wide from the desperate strength she’d put into the motion. To compensate, she had to sidestep, then jabbed, her blade barely catching his man’s bare side, scoring the skin.

  The pirate lost his smile and glowered, menacing his sword in her direction.

  The sudden nightmarish fight was nothing like Sadie expected. She didn’t have time to prepare or space to move. All she could do was react, fear and adrenaline fueling her blows. She held nothing back, for she battled to the death. The face of the man blurred as she focused on his sword, the shift and movement of his body.

  A misstep and the pirate left himself open. She stabbed to the chest, right underneath the breastbone. Blood spurted, black and shiny on his skin.

  The man’s eyes widened, and he crumpled forward, the force of his collapse on her blade dragging down her arms.

  She smelled the reek of blood and body odor and flinched.

  “Sadie,” Thaddis yelled. He helped her yank her blade from the body, and shoved her toward the stairs. “Get up there.” He raised his sword to meet the strike of the next pirate.

  Sadie ran up about ten steps, then looked behind her. Heart pounding, she watched Thaddis moved with strength and an economy of movement that took down several men.

  Behind him, Adama dispatched her opponent, but didn’t recover in time to raise her blade against the one who took his place. His sword caught her side. Blood spurted from the cut.

  Horrified, Sadie screamed, “Adama!”

  The pirate slashed the woman’s thigh, then drove the tip of his sword into her stomach.

  “Sadie!” A man grabbed her arm, pulling her back.

  Instinctively, she twisted away, lifted her free arm to punch him, realizing the stone she still clutched would make the blow more powerful. At the last second, Sadie recognized Philan.

  “Go help Wenda,” he ordered, giving her a push that almost unbalanced her.

  She trotted up the stairs, feeling sick to her stomach, although she kept stopping to check on Thaddis. He engaged the next enemy who leaped at him, pointed teeth gleaming, fighting with ferocious strikes to dispatch the pirate.

  Philan caught up to her, waved at her to keep climbing, and moved past to reach Wenda’s side.

  As soon as Thaddis killed his opponent, he leaped back, motioning to a Zacatlan soldier to take his place, and started up the staircase toward them.

  Seeing him safe made Sadie hurry up the rest of the steps. Time to shut off that laser beam.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  Trine Nabric rode his brother Kokam’s horse across the grassy plain, lost in thought and troubled by his mission. Around him, dusky shadows deepened to purple. A hot wind battered at his back. Already the grass the gelding trotted over had faded and withered. In a few hours, all the greenery would be shriveled to brown stalks.

  Nabric had obeyed previous orders he didn’t like, but his latest assignment bothered him more than anything else he’d ever had to do for Ontarem. He touched the pearl of power set into a circlet around his head. He strongly disagreed with the God’s order to kill the Che-da-wah, especially given the Deity’s great need for power to fuel this war—to win this war.

  In the past, in the rare times Ontarem’s forces had captured the nomads alive, once the people been subverted to the God’s will, they’d provided a strong source of energy. Perhaps, because for generations the Che-da-wah had lived apart from the obligation to provide sustenance for Ontarem, while the citizens of Penutar experienced the power drain from the time they were born.

  Nabric wondered if he should disobey—chose what was best for the God, rather than what He had commanded. Should I order the Che-da-wah captured instead of killed? Try to prove to Ontarem that keeping the nomads alive would be more beneficial than slaying them?

  But disobedience could anger the God, and the consequences of Ontarem’s wrath if directed at His Trine Priest could be dire.

  The day is a sorry one when Ontarem’s own Trine doubts the omniscience of his God.

  He set the conundrum aside, checking on his bodyguards, who flanked him on their own mounts. Only two men, instead of the normal ten, a testament to how much they’d already lost in this war. And, judging from how the two balanced on the backs of their horses like sacks of rocks…not even skilled enough to be one of Ontarem’s elite. Probably they had never been on a horse before. The animals were rare in Penutar because the pull of Ontarem’s energy adversely affected them. The special feed needed by the horses was too expensive for most of the inhabitants.

  Nabric leaned down to pat the neck of his gray gelding. He wasn’t all that comfortable on horseback, and his thigh muscles ached. But he still appreciated being able to ride. There’d been no horses on the Triangle Islands.

  The fact that he planned for his soldiers to target the Che-da-wah’s mounts bothered him as much as the God’s order to kill the nomads. It’s wrong to kill such magnificent creatures.

  Their deaths will serve the God. The reminder failed to soothe him.

  The sun, an orange half-ball on the horizon, slid downward. The light grayed, then snuffed out. Blackness descended, and stars popped into view, sprinkling across the night sky.

  Not that darkness mattered. To Nabric’s othersense sight, the presence of Ontarem’s soldiers seemed as clear as day, and he steered them toward the encampment. Soon, he spotted the orange flames of the campfires dotting the night and smelled roasting meat. His stomach cramped with hunger.

  He ignored the first challenge of a sentry. Then, when the man moved to halt him with a pike pointed against the gelding, Nabric touched the pearl on his forehead.

  The man’s eyes widened. He bowed. “Welcome, Trine Priest.”

  “Where is Commander Sughar?”

  “He’s in the com
mand tent.” The sentry pointed to a large tent in the middle of the encampment. “He’s meeting with the captains of the halhores over supper.”

  Nabric swung down from the horse, conscious of the stiffness in his legs. He hadn’t ridden on the islands. He handed the reins to the man. “Take care of my horse.”

  His guards dismounted, giving over their reins to the sentry. One hurried to take a position of defense in front of him, and the other dropped behind. Although Nabric doubted he’d have any problem in a camp full of men loyal to Ontarem, he wasn’t willing to take the chance.

  Nabric wove around the campfires, giving everyone and everything an informal, but thorough, inspection.

  The soldiers sat in quiet circles around the warmth of the flames, eating their meal. A few glanced his way, but didn’t acknowledge him. Most ignored the passing of the three men, their faces stoic.

  Something about the silence of the encampment made the hair rise on his neck. Perhaps he wouldn’t have noticed if he’d not dwelt for so long with the boisterous islanders. Seems their way of life had become normal to him. The people of Penutar had never been very vocal, but in a mass of men like this—close comrades in arms—he expected some conversations, if not the games of chance and ribald jokes the seadogs would have indulged in under similar conditions.

  With his othersense, he checked a nearby group. Their personal power looked dull and sluggish. The men seemed exhausted inside and out.

  They’re away from their families, fighting a shadow enemy, living under primitive camp conditions… But their subdued behavior was more than that. The soldiers’ hope was gone—depleted along with their energy.

  Nabric slowed his walk, appalled by what he saw. Luckily each individual soldier’s tether to the God remained strong. Otherwise, they might refuse to fight. Or even worse, rebel against Ontarem. The thought made his blood chill.

  He was about to disengage his othersense when out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of a strange emptiness. Instead of the othersense connections stretching to Ontarem like straight spiderwebs, a gap lurked in several spots.