by M. M. Perry
“Where did you two come from?” Mat hissed at them as he hurried them inside and shut the door.
“What’s going on? And why are we whispering?” Cass asked.
“An awful lot. And because of the beastie. We’re getting ready to head out to kill it, but we didn’t want to lead it here while we were preparing. It’s already stalked us very near here, but for some reason it seems hesitant to tear down the place. You obviously didn’t see it.”
“No, we didn’t see much of anything,” Gunnarr replied. “It’s thicker than your cheese stew out there with the mist and smoke. What kind of beastie are we on about here?”
A red headed warrior with a beard that rivaled his frizzy head of hair approached.
“Olag,” he said offering his hand to Cass.
“Cass and Gunnarr,” she said exchanging greetings. She’d never heard of Olag, but that wasn’t strange. It had been some time since she’d had much interactions with warriors other than Nat and Gunnarr.
“I’ve heard of ya. Who hasn’t really. Gunnarr, well, we all know about his search. I’d heard he found ya. Just in time to get into more trouble, eh?”
“Seems so,” Cass said as she leaned onto a table. “You gonna catch us up on this beastie, then?”
“I was on the plains when they were fighting. Was a small group of us, we knew better than to get too close. Not much use we’d be dead. But we needed to see. To see how they fought. Learn from your quarry, as you know.”
Cass nodded. It was a common training refrain for young warriors. The often went on long trips simply to live adjacent to creatures just to see how they hunted and fought.
“Something happened when one of them gods fell. His blood was endless. I’ve never seen anything bleed like that, and I’ve seen a wild gordonna gutted. This was… this was something else entirely. And the one that broke him in half…”
Cass put her hand on Oleg’s arm.
“What?”
Oleg nodded, his face going ashen.
“That’s another thing I’ve never seen, nor will I like to see again. Woman god, don’t know them apart, she had thrown the man god from the top of one of the statues. He was still alive, very much so. Winded it looked like, but that was it. Then another was there. Had to be Natan. No one else dresses like a snake. He was there at the bottom, as if waiting. Like the two of them were playing a twisted game of catch. Natan took advantage of the thrown god being stunned. He put his foot on the fallen god’s back, right in the middle, then grabbed his chin and his… genital area. Then Natan just pulled upward. It’s a terrible sound. And then the sound the dying god made from his throat, that was even worse. I’m… I’m sure you get the point.”
“Yeah… yeah we don’t need to dwell on that,” Cass said trying not to picture it in her head.
“Anyway, it seemed to invigorate Natan. He… got… bigger without getting bigger. I can’t explain it really well. It was so strange. And he pointed to the blood all over the ground, and something grew from it. Came right out of the ground. It was like if you’d given a leviathan land legs. Looked very similar, huge fish shaped creature, grey stripes. Only the tail was built more like a lizard’s, long without the fins. Face was pretty much the same. Wide maw filled with those rows of razor teeth. Its back still had the one great big fin, jutting into the air. Thing would have looked comical, really out of place and malformed, except when you’re there, right near it… it isn’t so funny looking then. I think he meant to send it after the other gods. But then he saw us. He laughed when he saw us, then pointed. And the blasted thing came right for us.”
“He created a land leviathan?” Gunnarr said gripping his sword tightly.
“Yeah, that spits some kind of skin melting poison,” Oleg pointed back to a heavily bandaged warrior leaning against the wall who was trembling with every breath. Cass could not see the extent of the damage, but the bandages were soaked through with yellow and red.
“They’re bad enough in the water,” Gunnarr said gruffly.
“At least he didn’t make a whole pack of them,” Cass said thinking. “If it was Laota who Natan killed, it may have indeed been a leviathan with legs. Laota’s the source of those things in the old stories anyway. If it is a leviathan, are those old stories about the Braldashad knowing ways to trick them true?”
“I’ve only had chance to try it once. I’m still here, but that could have been luck,” Gunnarr said.
A woman stepped from the shadows into the light of the candles around them. She was as big as Gunnarr in her gear. Her hair was white with age, the light blonde color having been washed from it long ago. She had the same ice blue eyes as he did, though hers were sunk in an elderly face.
“You? Such a little pup survived Slaavnarr’s shipwreck?”
Gunnarr nodded at the elder Braldashadian woman.
“It could have been luck. I don’t think on it much. Or I try not to.”
Gunnarr sat silent for a moment considering the woman.
“What is your name?”
“Hrnngir.”
“And you came to be here?” Gunnarr asked, the realization that he had somehow bumped into another soul who remembered Slaavnarr’s shipwreck in the unlikeliest of places startling him.
Hrnngir nodded and spoke, “It is not by chance you meet me here. I was sent here. Now I think I may know why.”
“To meet me,” Gunnarr said.
The old woman sat. She took a deep breath.
“Laota sent me.”
She looked like she was waiting for a response, laughter perhaps, but Gunnarr remained stoic. So she continued.
“I should explain myself. Years ago, after the wreck of Slaavnarr’s great vessel, I thought I would die. For many years I would not leave my home. I prayed to the god Laota, prayed for him to take my grief from me. To help explain why this happened. I thought I’d never know. Then, fourteen days and nights ago, Laota came to me in a vision. He told me there was only one way to truly end my grief. He said I must come here. I must become a warrior. Said that through them, I would find my peace. I did not know what he meant by this. But I do not question the gods. Here I am. And here you are. The sole survivor of the shipwreck that took my husband from me.”
Gunnarr and Cass exchanged a look before the big Braldashad stared down at his huge hands, willing himself to ask the next question he knew it was only proper to ask.
“Who was your husband, Hrnngir?”
“Slaavnarr. Long had we been together,” she said, her voice cracking.
Gunnarr nodded. The old woman could have said any name from the ship’s roster and Gunnarr would have known them well. In the days following the disaster, he stamped the names of the dead into his mind forever. He had spent two weeks at sea with those men, but Slaavnarr he knew best. Gunnarr gritted his teeth. It was his duty to tell Hrnngir of the last hours of her mate, something he had avoided doing for many years. It was poor timing, but it was his obligation as the man who was with Slaavnarr when he died.
“I am sorry I was unable to tell you of his death myself, in a more appropriate setting and time. I never wanted to relive it. But now, I will.”
Hrnngir remained silent. The rest of the warriors recognized that Gunnarr was performing a death ritual of some sort, though they were unfamiliar with it. They respected him enough to let him finish, even though his timing could not have been worse. It didn’t hurt that a god seemed to have set the meeting of the two Braldashad in motion. Mat, the owner of the Sword’s Aplenty, double checked the door to make sure it was locked. Gunnarr began to tell Hrnngir of her husband’s final day.
“He was a brave captain. His ship was the mightiest I’d ever seen. It still is. To this day I cannot tell you exactly what went wrong. My only guess is the pitch in the hold was not barreled properly. The air must have been thick with it, the oils from it escaping into the room and filling it like a pot. A lantern must have fallen. All I know is the explosion was great. Slaavnarr’s ship cracked in half like a toy
made of twigs. Burning. There was much burning. Slaavnarr tried to get everyone to quickly build a raft of some sort. The dinghies had been flung from the ship with such force, we could not see them in the night. But the men were so frightened. They ran everywhere, some burning from pitch that had clung to them in the explosion, others with great splinters of the hull piercing them.”
Gunnarr stopped a moment and placed his hands on either side of his head as he sat down in a chair. Cass moved behind him and put her hands on his shoulder. She felt Gunnarr reach up to her and grip her hands for strength.
“I think they were less afraid of the fire and wounds than of our situation. We had been chumming the waters for some time. The great beasts would be coming soon, if they were not already there. We all knew what was to become of us. It would not be a pleasant death. I was by Slaavnarr’s side when the ship finally pulled under the water. We were separated for a short time as the current from the sinking ship pulled us down. But when I surfaced, he was still there. He called out to his shipmates, trying to get them to gather together. As a group, the leviathan might not attack. We knew they avoided groups of men. We were not their typical prey, so if there were many of us together, they might simply look for easier pickings. But the men scattered. They swam and screamed at the same time. It was as most of the burning had been quenched that I saw the first fin.
“Then a voice was silenced. At that time, Slaavnarr and I were still side by side, along with a young man who was on his first outing. His name was Hord. He was a good boy, always listened to the captain. Strong young man, would have made a great sailor. But as more and more of the voices cried out one last time, Hord began to lose his nerve. He had only ever eaten leviathan steaks at feasts, he had never seen them alive, certainly not that close. He darted when a fin began slowly coming our way. Slaavnarr went after him, trying to calm the lad. Their movements in the water, I’m sure it attracted attention. I remained calm and still while I watched them get torn apart by a pair of leviathan. I knew I needed to make some space between myself and the wreckage.
“There was so much blood in the water. I remembered the legends. ‘Smoothly and quietly, drift free of the leviathan.’ I didn’t know if I believed it, but I was willing to try anything at that point. Slowly I swam backwards, away from the last of the burning pitch and the fins circling around, each movement as slow as I could. I don’t know when I realized I had moved so far away I could no longer see the flames. All I know is my back bumped into something and I cried out in fear. I was sure it was a leviathan who had followed me all that way. When I turned around and saw one of the ten man dinghies that had blown off the boat, I cannot describe the relief. I crawled inside and stared for a long time in the distance. It was not until morning that I had my wits enough to begin the slow crawl back to Braldashad.
“When I finally landed three days later, I was near death from lack of water. I managed to find a stream and refresh myself. I was close enough to the great gathering that I walked there. I did not relish giving word of Slaavnarr’s ship, but I realized when I got there, everyone already knew. Ship parts, and a few body parts, had washed ashore. It was too much for me, I am ashamed to say. I could not enter the crowd of people grieving and tell them what I’d seen of their loved ones. I crept from the gathering and walked back to my hut. I was glad no one seemed to recall I had been on the ship. Except my mother who, of course, knew. She told no one. She could see I was not ready.”
Gunnarr stopped speaking, his face turned away from Hrnngir in shame.
“It is alright, pup. I finally see now why Laota led me here. I finally found my peace. He led me to you, to this moment. And now, together, we will destroy the thing that took my mate from me. Laota has given us this gift.”
Gunnarr looked up at Hrnngir’s steely eyes. He held them for a moment before taking a deep breath and nodding.
“They don’t like groups, that’s what the legends say. If you break apart like a school of fish, they will pick you off one by one. Stay together, even if it charges. And don’t run from it. Stand firm. Do not unsheathe your swords until you absolutely must. Anything that reminds it of a fish, that will excite it. When we hunted them in the water, we went for their gills. Damage the gills and the beast has trouble breathing. I don’t know what this new creature breathes with, so I’ll say the belly should be our next target. It’s softest there, on the white. The grey and silver areas, they are tougher than leather armor. A sharp sword can pierce it, but not as deep as you’d expect. And it brushes off those wounds. The white belly, that is where you must strike. As for this spit,” Gunnarr said glancing at the bandaged warrior, “let’s not let the beastie get the chance to do that.”
After a few moments of absorbing Gunnarr’s instructions, the warriors returned to their preparations for the fight. Cass knelt before Gunnarr and looked up into his weary face. His eyes were unfocused at first then, as if a fog had cleared from them, he noticed her.
“Are you alright, big guy?”
“Should we be so unlucky to die, I’m glad to have that particular burden lifted from me after all these years. Although it would have been nice if Laota sent her to me when we were still in Faylendar. A little less inconvenient timing.”
Cass smiled and scratched her cheek, “you really think Laota sent her here?”
“No.” Gunnarr said trying to hide his smile and keeping his voice low in case Hrnngir was around to hear him, “It’s a thing my people do. When they want to leave Braldashad, Laota conveniently visits them and tells them to go somewhere. Her being here, probably luck. If enough Braldashadian wanderlusters get visions from gods, surely every now and then, one actually pays off. She might believe Laota visited her. She might not. She’ll never tell you. I simply can’t believe any god would go through the trouble to give any person peace of mind. Plus, if he was that prescient, he wouldn’t have let himself die, now would he?”
“No, probably not,” Cass said.
“Perhaps it wasn’t even him who died. Do you truly think it was him that died? Laota? That it is from his blood the creature spawned?”
“If it was, I can think of a couple of gods who might be more affected by that than the others. If they also still live. I can’t imagine the next battle will be any better for it, either. But for now, let’s go kill us a land leviathan.”
“Nat and Viola are really going to give it to us for making them miss out on this,” Gunnarr grunted as he stood.
“Yeah, possible gruesome death by a landed sea beast…we’re just hogging all the good stuff for ourselves.”
Chapter 14
Issa pulled at her hair. Gods milled about around her in various states of distress and injury.
None of these weaklings dared to take another’s life. That is why they suffer, she thought.
The power coursing through her made her want to go out into the world, feel the air press against her face as she blasted through the sky on her own power. She knew the rest who had feasted at the battle were doing just that. But she had a job to do first. She looked around at all the frightened gods who were resting at the river. Old and new alike, all those that hadn’t killed on the Plains. She flexed her strength. There were perhaps two dozen there. She knew she could do it if she were quick, and she didn’t want to wait. Oshia would be joining her soon. She didn’t want to share this buffet with him.
Oshia popped himself into the River, the feeling of elation still filling him to the brim. He had stopped at Xenor on the way here, and killed a hundred djinn in one blow. They just stood there, waiting for him, their faces hopeful that he was about to take them to war finally as he had promised. He thought he had found an edge Issa hadn’t considered, a way to gain enough power to take her down, but their deaths hadn’t given him more strength as he had hoped. He had not bothered to chase the rest of them down and kill them. His disappointment was brief, as it couldn’t stand against the euphoria he felt from all the gods he killed on the plains. He giggled as he walked toward t
he domes, knowing he’d get even more when he got inside. Issa had promised a feast. He had no plans on sitting at her side, an obedient servant, though.
Oshia began to skip toward the temples. He stopped short when his foot landed in something wet. It was then he noticed the waters of the River were red, not blue.
“Issa,” he called out in a sing song voice that barely hid his anger. “Issa, darling, I thought you were going to wait for me?”
He began to panic and bolted into the temple to find Issa. She was not inside but trails of blood led back out onto the balconies that overlooked the world below. He hesitantly stepped through the archway in time to see Issa dropping a large piece of what has been Asalla’s lifeless body off the balcony. Issa turned to him. Her body glowed from the strength within her. Oshia knew he had to tread as lightly as he could. Issa’s eyes were crazed.
“Issa, sweetness, you started without me,” he pouted.
“Did you know,” Issa began as if she hadn’t heard Oshia speak at all. She continued to drop body parts off the balcony as she talked. “My father didn’t put up a fight at all? He stood before Freesus and opened his arms. Just like that. My own father. Weak. Imbecilic. Why would he do that?”
Issa dumped Kane’s head off the balcony as Oshia watched.
“Uh,” Oshia said distracted. “I’ve no idea, love. Maybe being locked up so long made him crazy?”
“I meant to kill Freesus myself. Sala beat me to it. She saw her brother fall, and she tore Freesus’ head right off. I let Sala live because of that. I might let her join us while the others fight their last battle. Natan was too fast to catch, the slippery snake,” Issa said, her mind wandering.
“Sounds delightful,” Oshia said, taking a step back. Issa saw the movement and her eyes snapped to him.
“Running away, love? Not very wise. I’m calling all the gods back here. I’m the new lord of all, and they will know it soon. Unless you wish to be among the rabble, you better stay right here, by my side.”