The Gods Awaken

by Allan Cole

Then he frowned. Where was Palimak? He peered closer and couldn't find a trace of his enemy. Then he spotted his daughter lined up with Captain Leiria and Lord Coralean, waiting to hurl back the mob.

  "What's Jooli doing helping them?” he rumbled.

  "Never mind that now, son,” Clayre advised. “I need your full attention to cast this spell."

  "Be damned to her!” Rhodes growled. “She has no business getting involved."

  The soothing voice of Kalasariz came from within. Don't trouble yourself, majesty. All who betray you will be punished. This I swear to you.

  With Kalasariz sending out calm feelings, Rhodes relaxed and once more started concentrating on the spell.

  Meanwhile, Kalasariz was loving every minute of this new and most powerful experience. He could feel the tingling of Clayre's magical energy coursing through the king's veins. And within his spirit self he could sense the agony of the creatures that were Fari and Luka as they leaped about to do his bidding. It was a delicious feeling to witness his enemies humbled so. They were less than insects in this new world he'd carved out for himself.

  Clayre muttered spell words, sprinkling powders over the model.

  The blue light intensified as she continued to weave her deadly spell.

  * * * *

  As the crowd approached, Coralean made one more attempt to settle things peacefully. He stepped forward, raising his hands high. So powerful was his personality that the crowd came to an immediate halt and fell into silence.

  "People of Kyrania,” he said, his big voice carrying to the most distant edges of the crowd. “All of you know in your heart of hearts that Coralean is your oldest and dearest friend. And I call upon your affection for me—and upon our long and profitable association—to hear Coralean's words."

  There were murmurs of agreement in the crowd. Masura glowered, furious at the caravan master's effect on the others.

  "Please, my dear friends,” Coralean continued, “do not shame yourselves this day. Do not sully Kyrania's long tradition of peaceful discussion and compromise. It is this quality of yours that has most endeared you to me over the years. A quality that I hold in the highest esteem."

  Masura shouted: “The time for talk is over! We've had enough Timura trickery."

  Coralean looked hurt. “Do you accuse me, Coralean, of anything but honest intentions, my friend?"

  "You're no friend of mine!” Masura shouted. “You're nothing but a paid toady of Palimak Timura!"

  There was a flash of steel as Masura suddenly drew a blade from beneath his cloak and leaped forward to strike the caravan master down. So unexpected was his attack that even Coralean, an experienced fighter and agile despite his size, was caught unaware.

  He threw up an arm in surprise and Masura aimed his blade at the caravan master's exposed heart.

  But Leiria was quicker, jumping between Masura and Coralean. She felt a hot, stinging sensation as Masura's short sword cut into her arm. But she turned with the blow, catching the main force on her body armor. Then she grabbed Masura by the throat and hurled him backwards.

  "Assassins!” Masura screamed. “Assassins!"

  Only a few people had seen his attack. Most believed it was Leiria who had struck first.

  Chaos erupted and the screaming mob surged forward.

  * * * *

  Rhodes watched in joy as the Kyranian mob attacked his most hated enemies. He burned in even greater delight in anticipation of what would come next.

  Kalasariz shared his delight, soaking up the hot juices flowing through the king's veins. Meanwhile, he whipped his little slaves into a frenzy, driving Fari and Luka to greater heights of pain. Drawing on the powerful magic their agony produced.

  Queen Clayre shouted, “Now!” and stabbed an elegant finger at the model of the Kyranian fortress.

  Kalasariz felt the pull of her powerful magic and delivered his own pent-up sorcery in twin hammer blows of energy that blasted through the king's eyes.

  The blue light hovering over the model turned white hot, then burst. Fiery particles rained down on the melee below.

  * * * *

  It was Jooli who caught the first hint of danger. A man was lunging toward her and she parried his sword thrust and kicked his legs out from under him.

  But as she turned to confront the next attacker her hackles suddenly rose and her hair stood up on her scalp like hot needles.

  Instinctively she looked upward and saw an enormous blue cloud floating overhead. The cloud was shaped like the face of a beautiful woman—a familiar face with two enormous eyes that glowed with evil power.

  "Beware!” Jooli shouted. “It's my grandmother!"

  No one heeded her warning. They were too busy fighting.

  In the next instant all that changed. A lightning bolt shot from cloud to ground.

  There was an enormous, ear-bursting crash and suddenly the air was filled with fiery particles raining out of the sky.

  Someone screamed in pain as a particle settled on his flesh. Then another person cried out as his hair caught on fire.

  The two victims broke from the crowd, running wildly, blindly away. Shouting, “I'm on fire! I'm on fire!"

  The crowd scattered under the deadly rain, people diving for any shelter they could find.

  "With me!” Jooli shouted, whirling and running for the shelter of the stone overhang that protected the door.

  Leiria, Coralean and the others knotted in beside her. Pounding at the door for Renor and Sinch to let them in. Mistaking the hammering for the mob trying to get in, the two young guards ignored their entreaty.

  Then, as suddenly as it had started, the hot rain stopped. People peered out from their hiding places—farm carts, trees, big clay jars they'd upended.

  "What in the Hells—” Leiria began.

  "She's not done with us yet,” Jooli broke in, cutting her off.

  "Who are you talking about?” asked a bewildered Leiria.

  "I told you—my grandmother,” Jooli snapped. “Queen Clayre.” Then, as if it would explain everything, “She's a witch."

  "What do we do?” Leiria asked.

  "Wait and see what happens next,” Jooli advised.

  But even as she answered she was digging through her own mental book of spells, searching for a defense. Feeling helpless even as she did so. The power of her grandmother's attack had surprised her, humbled her. She'd had no idea that Queen Clayre possessed such abilities.

  At that moment the ground turned spongy under her feet. It started to crumble and she jumped away, shouting a warning to the others.

  She whipped around to confront whatever new threat Clayre had in store for them and saw a large dark hole in the ground where she and the others had been standing. Then glowing red dots appeared in the hole. The air suddenly took on a sharp, foul scent of rodent droppings. There was a scurrying and a squeaking—and then hundreds of large rats poured out of the hole.

  Coralean booted one rat and slashed at another with his sword. Shouting in surprise as it dodged his cut and leaped onto the blade itself and ran up his arm. He hurled it away, splattering its body against the fortress walls.

  But then others swarmed up at him and he cursed and swatted at the squeaking tide. Leiria and the soldiers fared no better. The numbers were overwhelming and they soon found themselves being driven back, dripping with blood from the many bites they suffered.

  Jooli cast the only spell she thought might prove effective, but it flattened in the air like a burst goatskin bag.

  Screams came from every direction and she could see where other holes had suddenly appeared, pocking the hill like an ugly skin disease. Thousands upon thousands of rats poured out of the holes, attacking the Kyranians with a stunning ferocity.

  Fleeing people stumbled, then were quickly overwhelmed by the rodents who went for the most vulnerable parts—snapping at eyes and throats and lips. Slashing ears into bloody ribbons.

  Jooli leaped up onto a low wall, clubbing rats away with the flat of he
r blade. Leiria used her spear to vault onto the wall and they stood back to back, protecting one another against the horrid tide.

  But the rats kept coming and Jooli felt her strength slipping away at a frightening rate.

  She knew she couldn't last much longer.

  * * * *

  Rhodes danced up and down, shouting in glee as the rats overwhelmed the Kyranians. Kalasariz did his own little ghost dance inside the king, thrilled at this easy victory.

  Even the inscrutable Queen Clayre let some true emotion leak through, saying “Good show!” as a big rat leaped over Leiria's head and sank its teeth into the back of Jooli's neck.

  But then there came a sound like a thunderclap and the fortress door boomed open.

  And now it was Queen Clayre's turn to cry, “What's happening?"

  * * * *

  Leiria heard Jooli shout in pain and she whirled about, plucked the rat from Jooli's back, snapped its neck and threw it away. A rodent jumped on Leiria's leg, digging in sharp claws and teeth. She smashed it off with her fist, then caught another in mid-leap on her spear point.

  It was then that she heard the thunderclap, followed by the crash of the big fortress door slamming open. She looked up, dazed. And beheld a most wondrous sight.

  Charging out of the fortress was Safar, mounted on Khysmet! Palimak was seated behind his father, gripping his waist. Safar was waving a long curving sword that glowed like a golden beacon.

  And he shouted in a great voice: “Come the winds! North and South! East and West! Come! Come the winds!"

  There was a roaring sound, like a distant sea gathering its strength. Then the roar became a wail, then a giant banshee shriek.

  The next thing Leiria knew, she was being hammered by fierce winds blasting over her from all sides. She grabbed Jooli and the two women toppled off the wall to take shelter behind the stonework.

  Leiria raised her head to see—wind-borne grit lashing her face and scouring her helmet like a sanding machine gone mad.

  At first all she could see was the glowing tip of Safar's sword. Then the atmosphere seemed to steady and she could make out the dark, funneling cloud that swirled around man and horse and boy. The banshee sound suddenly changed to shrill squeaks and she saw the rats being lifted off the ground and hurled into the sky.

  Thousand upon thousands of them, swept into the heavens, to disappear into the great blue cloud that had a woman's face.

  Then the cloud tore apart and was gone.

  The wind ceased. And all was silent.

  * * * *

  Rhodes shouted in surprise as the model of the Kyranian fortress exploded.

  And then thousands of rats were falling from the vaulted ceiling of his mother's chambers. Squealing in fear and anger.

  It was as if a rodent hell had opened its gates and let loose a vicious tide of fur and claws and teeth.

  Clayre stood frozen in fear as the first of the rats went for her. Then she screamed in terror.

  Quickly, Rhodes grabbed his mother, lifting her off the ground. Then he rushed up the stairs, Clayre under one arm, smashing rodents under his heavy boots.

  He got her through the door, turned, and slammed and barred it, squashing several rats as they tried to slip past.

  The king set his mother on her feet. “What a mess!” he said, then turned his back on her and staggered to his chambers where he collapsed on his bed.

  He slept for three days straight and not even Kalasariz could arouse him.

  Then he got up, called for food and ate like a war horse. When he was satisfied, Kalasariz spoke to him from within, saying, You seem quite calm, majesty, considering all that has happened.

  Instead of answering the question, Rhodes said, “Was that Safar Timura? The big man on the white horse?"

  Yes, Kalasariz replied. You can see why he's given me so much trouble over the years. He's a very powerful wizard.

  Rhodes thought a moment, then nodded as he made up his mind. “I want that power,” he said."

  Then you shall have it, Kalasariz vowed. We'll just consider your mother's first effort a noble but failed experiment.

  "I have no problem with that,” Rhodes said. “I'm not one to give up easily."

  He paused, then, “That stallion Safar was riding?"

  Yes, what about it?

  "That's the steed I was talking about,” Rhodes said. “The horse I saw in the mural when I last visited my mother. And then it was gone. Vanished!"

  Perhaps we should examine that mural more closely, Kalasariz suggested.

  And so Rhodes revisited his mother's chambers. While he'd slept, the rats had been exterminated by poisonous spells. Their bodies were still being hauled away by slaves when he entered his mother's rooms. Clayre was nowhere to be seen. She was probably off somewhere in borrowed quarters, nursing her wounded pride.

  "The mural's just over here,” Rhodes said, lighting a torch and carrying it to his mother's throne.

  But when he looked up his jaw dropped in astonishment.

  There was no sign of the mural. The wall was completely blank.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  HOMECOMING

  Safar's homecoming was a glorious celebration that lasted a full week. There was much singing, feasting and sacrifice to the Goddess Felakia. Sparkling fireworks filled the nights, dazzling kites of many colors the days. The whole mountaintop was thick with the heady scent of roasting kabobs and spiced fruits and perfumed rice. Wine flowed in rivers and everyone was drunk from dawn to dawn.

  His parents and sisters fussed over Safar, weeping and laughing in relief that he was with them once again. Men thumped his back and called him brother and hero. Women offered themselves, swearing they would do anything he desired—with no betrothals asked in return. Coralean gave him a treasure chest filled with exotic gems and rare coins struck by kings in distant lands.

  His circus friends staged a fabulous performance in his honor. Biner dressed in his best ringmaster's uniform to direct from the ground as Arlain and Kairo performed many wondrous feats on wires strung from the high-floating airship to the ground. Arlain in her skimpiest costume, breathing long tongues of fire. Kairo juggling his detachable head along with a flaming sword. While Elgy and Rabix played stirring music specially composed for the show.

  During all these events Khysmet was always nearby, flowers woven into his mane and tail by pretty Kyranian maids. Palimak sat at Safar's feet, feeling light as a feather, now that he no longer had to wear the heavy mantle of leadership.

  Leiria was perhaps the happiest of them all, standing permanent guard at his side. Her burnished armor shining almost as strongly as the internal glow of her overflowing heart. She was joined by the fiercely loyal Renor and Sinch who made certain Safar was safe from all who approached.

  With no discussion, Jooli made herself part of this group. She appeared one morning and took up position beside Leiria. It seemed so natural that no one questioned her right.

  Safar made only one speech during this time. On the first day he called all the villagers together to purify the mountaintop of the last vestiges of Clayre’ sorcery. Afterward, he told them how overjoyed he was to be home again. Although he didn't say where he had been, it was understood by all that Lord Timura had suffered much for them. He congratulated his friends and family for successfully negotiating the Great Sea and making a new home in Syrapis, despite many difficulties and personal sacrifice.

  Finally, he begged them to pardon Masura and his supporters for their actions. Left unsaid was that until Safar's miraculous appearance the majority of the villagers had sided with Masura. Everyone seemed quite anxious to forget that ugly little truth.

  Safar said he understood and even agreed with the concerns of the Council of Elders. However, these were perilous times that called for extraordinary measures when it came to leadership.

  Here he drew Palimak close to him, praising him before the entire assemblage for all that he had done to protect the people of Kyrania. And for so f
aithfully carrying out all Safar had commanded.

  This simple and loving declaration banished any doubts that might have remained among the villagers about Palimak's role since their flight from Esmir. Coupled with the pardon of Masura and his supporters, everyone was so relieved that they wiped their minds of all grievances, real or imagined.

  Yet all that gladness was an illusion. Safar knew he would soon have to make his people face a terrible truth: all they had suffered and all they had endured was nothing compared to with the dark days to come.

  But he allowed them this brief time. Let them dance, dance, dance, as he had in the endless nightmare of Hadin.

  Meanwhile, he would marshal his strength and resources and play the deadly waiting game.

  * * * *

  Deep in the wine-dark night, Safar paced the room. Filling one whole side was the great empty coffin of Lord Asper. On the wall above the coffin was the mural that had once graced Queen Clayre's chambers.

  Here was the glittering castle and the mysterious King of the Spirit Riders leading his army into battle. There were his warrior daughters, each more beautiful than the other. In front of them was the most beautiful of all—the ebony-skinned princess on the midnight-black mare who had appeared several times over the years to warn Safar, or lead him to safety.

  It was all a maddening puzzle. A labyrinth of hidden meanings. Safar had little memory of what had happened since his escape from the past and future dreamworld of Hadinland. There were only impressions, swirling like stars in a drunken sky. There was the wild ride on Khysmet. Quick snatches of the battle with the monster queen in her underground lair. A hazy period of illness, when he sensed he had been knocking on Death's door. Then Palimak had appeared astride Khysmet and they were hammering together at a stony surface.

  The surface finally gave way and he suddenly found himself bursting out of the wall of this very room. And then he was charging out of the fortress on Khysmet to meet and defeat the plague of rodents attacking his people.

  Safar stared at the mural. He remembered being a momentary part of the ancient painting—sitting astride Khysmet with Palimak, whispering for him to remain quite still while the spell he'd cast continued its course.