by Janet Woods
The battle had come closer. She couldn’t see the troopers, but hundreds of red wings flamed in the heavens. Bane still seethed. Somewhere up there Kavan and his valiant troopers were fighting superior forces – those of the evil god, Beltane.
“Arcus,” she yelled. “Why do you lurk in the safety of darkness? Come out and join your son in battle.”
The air around her began to surge. Her cloak billowed. Plucked into the air she was tumbled this way and that like a leaf in the wind before being deposited in the shallows of the icy lake below. She gasped as her body was instantly robbed of warmth.
“Who dares to speak so to Arcus, god of night?” a deep voice roared.
She spat water from her mouth and glared in the direction of the voice. “It is I, Tiana, daughter of the goddess, Lynx.”
“Lynx’s daughter!” Plucked from the water she was conveyed upwards at breathtaking speed. She caught a glimpse of Cabrilan far below and begged. “Please be careful. I’m mostly mortal and can levitate only a little.”
The movement stopped and she made out the form of a man floating in front of her. “Help save your son from death,” she said.
“All mortals die.”
“Yes, but a fight with a god such as Beltane is one-sided. It’s not Kavan’s time. We have yet to fulfill our destiny.”
“Which is?”
“It is written that through us the god-child will be born.”
“Mmmm.” He came closer and stared at her. “It’s good that you finally admit what your destiny is.” He chuckled when she blushed. “You are most fair, like my sister, and equally stubborn, I perceive. “How was Lynx when you met?”
“She was well.”
Tiana’s cloak billowed when he sighed. “I long to see Lynx again. I missed her by a few tix the night of your meeting, but I saw her luminosity. Now, what has Beltane been up to?”
“He’s sent war demons to prevent Kavan from fulfilling his quest to save Truarc and Cabrilan.”
“Uhuh! Some fool must have woken him with the fire stone,” Arcus mused. “Kavan’s quest is not very important in the grand scheme of things, but there’s the god-child to consider, I suppose. He is my grandson.”
“You will not have a grandson if Kavan dies,” she pointed out. “The quest is all important to Kavan. Will you help?”
“Now you’ve roused me, I might as well,” he grumbled.
“You’d better if you want your grandson to exist. Wait,” she yelled after him when he flew off. “You can’t leave me here, I don’t know how to get down.”
His hand closed around her cloak. She descended as quickly as she’d risen, and landed in the lake again. This time she was somewhere in the middle and couldn’t stand. She trod water and shook a fist at him. “You’re as much a barbarian as your son, you goat-brained puff of wind. Get me out of here.”
“You have a provocative manner, wench. The ducking will help you cool off.” His laughter echoed like thunder as he shot off towards the battle.
Shivering, she made it to the shore and climbed the slope. A moment with the wishing dish and she was dry. She ordered a fire and a bowl of hot broth as well, smiling as she remembered how stupidly stubborn she’d been about something so delightfully accommodating. The temple sisters would censure her severely if they knew. But her life as a temple novice was long gone, and unimaginable now.
Comfortable, she laid her back against the rock and gazed upwards. A foul stench gradually filled the air, followed by a grunt from the other side of the fire. Not the watchers! Heart thudding, she stared beyond the glare of the fire and saw a movement. “Who’s there?”
Another grunt came from her left. Two winged creatures with sharp-toothed snouts, scaly human bodies and lashing tails were watching her. War demons! She put her hand out for Atarta, only to remember and withdraw it again.
Their wings pulsated a fiery red as the creatures grunted at each other, and then the grunting became frenzied snarls and the two fell to the ground, tail-whipping and biting each other.
To the victor the spoils! Horrified and revolted, she snatched up her sack and took off. She’d scrambled only a little way down the slope when she heard them howl, and knew they were after her.
Kavan had told her to hide in the alchemist’s tomb behind the fall. But how was she to get there? The rocks were covered with wet moss. She had to risk it. Slipping and slithering her way along a ridge, she spied to her left a dark hollow under the cascading water. A tunnel.
A gust of foul breath enveloped her and a tail coiled in a slimy circle around her waist and tugged. A short way away was the edge of the fall. She slid the wishing dish out and sliced at the tail with the edge of it. The creature screamed and fell into the water below. The water seethed and bubbled around it, then the demon turned black and floated, face down. She couldn’t see the other one.
She held her breath and slid into the tunnel behind the rushing waters of the fall. Dry inside the tunnel, she was able to stand upright. It led into a cave, the other entrance of which was almost hidden by a curtain of fine, misty spray.
There was a hiss. She froze as the second war demon squeezed through the tunnel entrance after her. It reared and its hooked claws slashed at the air as it stomped towards her, wings spread and glowing hot. It looked grotesque, its nostrils flapping as each stinking breath pulsated in and out.
She shrank back in horror when it paraded with rampant intent in front of her. She remembered the cauterized wound of the trooper and sucked in a breath as she realized the effect this abomination would have on her flesh, where it touched. The demon stank like rotting garbage.
Remembering the effect of the water on the other demon she closed her eyes and concentrated on the fall. The sound changed. The rushing noise increased. Spray touched her face, blotting out the creature’s heat as it approached her.
The demon gave a harsh, anguished cry. Her eyes shot open. The beast’s wings had begun to dissolve into holes. Darting past the writhing demon she scooped water into the bowl and threw it. The water hissed into scalding steam against its body. Within tix the demon was reduced to a blackened, writhing shell. She kicked its remains over the fall, took a trembling breath and glanced around her.
A pale glitter drew her gaze to the back of the cave. As she approached the light took on form. Her eyes widened. Encased in a shaft of clear crystal was the body of the alchemist. He stood upright, one jeweled slipper nudging against an embroidered cushion containing a book. His beard was long and glittering with jewels, his purple gown trimmed with silver embroidery. Eyelids open, his empty sockets appeared to be gazing at another book, this one illuminated and resting on one of his palms. The other hand was held up in a blessing. From head to foot he glowed with an ethereal, opaline glow.
“You’re beautiful, grandfather,” she said with great reverence. “More beautiful than the form you manifest in.” Serenity flowed into her heart and the fatigue of the previous day fell from her shoulders. When she placed her face against the cool crystal her soul begin to heal and her body relaxed.
* * * *
Kavan had fought his way into Beltane’s chamber. Some miracle had prevented him from being slain and the only recourse left to him was to appeal to Beltane’s better nature, if he had one.
He threw open the door to a maelstrom of fiery red and dark swirling clouds. So fatigued, he could hardly stand, let alone fight. Sword dragging along the ground he made his way to where Beltane sat in splendor on a fiery throne. The god’s hair was a mass of flame, his mouth belched smoke.
Beltane stared at him with disdain. “So, son of Arcus, where is your arrogance now? Prostrate yourself before your king.”
Sensing the presence of another, Kavan gazed to his right. “There’s two of me?” he whispered in a confusion of tiredness. “Am I suffering from double vision?”
The other him grinned. “There’s two of us, for you’re the son and I’m the father.”
“Arcus, why are you here in my domain
?” Beltane roared.
“To stop you. This game isn’t about destroying Cabrilan, it’s about the god-child. Believe me, he’ll be born.”
“Not without the mother. Two of my war demons have been dispatched especially to seek her out. By now they should have her. She’ll burn from the inside out.”
“No,” Kavan roared. With his remaining strength he raised his sword and lunged at Beltane. Fire danced up the sword and it melted. He slapped at the molten metal as it ate into his skin.
“I thought I’d given you enough of my genes to handle things better,” Arcus roared as he flicked the metal off. “I should have taken a hand in raising you instead of leaving you solely to that treacherous bitch.” He shook his head. “She did nothing but complain and threaten revenge when I did her the honor of planting you inside her.”
Kavan’s face tightened at the thought of Rowena’s fate. “As was her right. She hated you, hated what you did to her and plotted against me because of it. She should have been given a choice.”
Arcus threw him an incredulous look. “It’s I who had no choice. She was the only female with enough strength to accommodate both me and you.” He gazed at the molten sword. “Hasn’t anyone told you a mortal can’t fight fire with a sword?”
Kavan jerked his thumb at Beltane. “How else can I defeat him?”
Beltane gave a smug smile. “You can always beg, mortal.”
Kavan knew he’d try anything, even humiliation. He prostrated himself on the floor. “I beg you, Beltane. Spare Tiana’s life.”
“The maid is the daughter of Lynx, who spurned me. Hmmm,” Beltane thought for a moment, and then a sly grin appeared on his face. “I might spare her if Lynx is willing to come to me.”
A streak of light shot into the chamber and exploded in front of Beltane. Arcus dragged Kavan upright and grinned from ear to ear. “It’s Lynx. Now we’ll see a fine show of temper.”
The light bolt was followed by another, and then another, until the chamber was criss-crossed with them as they bounced from one wall to another. Kavan and Arcus ducked, Beltane hid his head under his cloak.
Finally, an explosion and a flash brought Lynx into the chamber. “You lump of melting tar . . . you sulphurous wart . . . impotent god of spent ashes. I’ll drown you in lake of cat’s urine, first.”
“She always had a wonderful turn of phrase,” Arcus remarked casually.
Kavan managed a grin. “Her daughter takes after her.”
Arcus looked sideways at him. “You should take that wench in hand. She informs me I’m a goat-brained puff of wind.”
“She informs me I’m much of the same. Is there any truth to it?”
Arcus bellowed with laughter. “I wouldn’t be at all surprised.”
Beltane emerged from his hiding place, looking sulky. “What are you doing here, Lynx? Meeting your brother is forbidden.”
“You should have remembered that before you called me and gave us the opportunity to meet. Now it’s too late and you can’t do anything about it. Those are the rules.” Her glance sizzled around the chamber. A smile crept across her face when she spotted them. “Arcus, by all that’s immortal. How come you here?”
“Your daughter thought it imperative this excuse for a son should be rescued from his folly. He was flat on his belly wriggling like a worm to beg for her life.”
The frown Lynx gave couldn’t distract from her beauty. “Mortals shouldn’t be involved in the affairs of the gods. This mischief has the smell of alchemy about it.”
“Our sire is safely entombed, he’s still minus his eyes and the diamond shaft is untouched. What mischief could he get up to?”
Kavan’s eyes narrowed, but he said nothing. He couldn’t tear his gaze from the radiant goddess from whom Tiana had issued. Yet, shining star though she was, she stole nothing from her daughter’s gentler glow. He appealed once more to Beltane. “I’m not too proud to beg for my lady. I offer my life for hers and that of my people.”
Lynx smiled approvingly at him, but Beltane snorted. “I’ve stated my terms. I already have your life, and now I have Lynx. I’m in no mood to bargain further.”
Lynx’s mouth puckered in a smile when she gazed at Arcus. “He’s still a fool full of hot air. Why does he think he’s got us, when it’s obvious we have him? Remember that game we used to play when we were small.”
“This one? “Arcus said, and pursing his lips blew an icy stream from his mouth. Lynx joined in with a stream of warm air. Puffy clouds formed above them to pile one on top of the other. They began to rotate.
The denser the clouds, the darker they became. They poured through the windows, and pushed open the chamber doors. The air became heavy with moisture. Sweat poured from Kavan’s skin and soaked through his leathers.
“Stop!” Beltane commanded, spitting out a spray of black dribble. He pointed a finger at the clouds and fired a lightning bolt. It barely crackled.
Lynx giggled. Immediately the clouds burst and rain began to swirl around them. Everything hissed and crackled, thunder rumbled and lightning shot jagged, silver bolts.
“Well done,” Arcus huffed.
The storm filled with balls of ice that crashed and shattered everywhere. Kavan fended them off with an arm held over his eyes, but they relentlessly battered his limbs. The gods were like children, he thought, disgusted with them all. If his son ever behaved like this he’d lay him over his knee and paddle his backside.
Arcus and Lynx laughed and the whole structure began to crumble. Screaming abuse, Beltane staggered from his throne and pointed his trident at Kavan.
Kavan ducked under it and drove his fist into the other’s belly. Steam belched from Beltane’s mouth when he doubled over. Grabbing up the trident, Kavan took aim.
Arcus snatched it from his hand. “Don’t kill him, it will spoil the game.”
“Game . . . what game?” Kavan roared.
“The game gods play for power. Go now. You have your own quest to resolve.”
“Is that all this means to you, Arcus? Power?”
“You’d never understand, but the game will stop with the god-child, for none will ever be more powerful. Go, your people need you. I’m glad we met at last, my son.”
The kiss Lynx placed on his cheek was full of affection. “Hold fast to your dreams, Kavan. I hope we will meet again.”
In all honesty Kavan couldn’t echo the sentiment. “On behalf of my people I’m grateful for your help.”
Arcus shrugged. “You and your people are insignificant in the scheme of things. We did it in exchange for the god-child.”
Feeling belittled Kavan scrambled on to Shazah’s back and turned towards home. Cabrilan was far away, a distant pinprick of light. When he turned to look back, Bane and the Gods were gone. Alone in a sky full of acrid smoke, wetness and decaying war demons, he’d never felt so exhausted, or so lonely.
“Why?” he yelled out, but no one bothered to answer him.
* * * *
Just before dark a bell tolled at the manor. A lone trooper had been sighted on the horizon and was heading in. Soon, the troopers lined the battlements and the villagers poured from their homes into the market square.
The dark figure was slumped in the saddle. He appeared to be as spent as his charger, which followed an erratic path home. There was no mistaking the rider, however unused they were to seeing him in such a sorry state.
Hundreds of pairs of eyes watched him approach, hundreds of breaths were caught when the charger faltered and rallied itself, hundreds of throats opened shouts of joy as he drew closer, and then fell silent when he raised no hand in greeting or acknowledged the cheers.
When the charger began to slip sideways a collective gasp went up. The animal recovered and glided into the battlements, where, lathered and trembling it stood with heaving chest, its head and wings drooping. The figure on its back didn’t move.
The troopers were galvanized into action. Two of them pulled Kavan from his mount’s back another led
the gallant charger away. There were a few anxious moments when Torma knelt to examine his lord, then he stood and spread wide his arms. He was smiling from ear to ear. “Lord Kavan breathes and the forces of Beltane are defeated.”
Cheers rang out – cheers which didn’t register on Kavan’s brain, for exhaustion had carried him over the edge of automaton and into the deepest realm of sleep.
* * * *
The sound of cheering didn’t penetrate the fall guarding the entrance to the tomb, though something woke Tiana from her sleep.
Not more war demons! No, a rodent backing from her sack with a crust of stale bread clenched in its jaws. She smiled as it scurried away. “I hope you’ve left me something for breakfast, little opportunist.”
Darkness fell. The roar of water sounded louder. The draught it created grew colder
The alchemist glowed bright in the blanket of darkness. He looked almost alive, as if he might step from his shimmering prison. He was more handsome and certainly more dignified than the manifestation his spirit displayed.
Still rapt in her examination of her grandfather’s remains, Tiana turned her head sideways to read the words on the page.
Only my body is mortal
My mind is the sustenance of knowledge
The eyes of my spirit give life
But those who seek power
Find eternal death.
Death! Her hands tensed into fists. Kavan hadn’t come for her and she wondered . . . No! She refused to believe a man so vital and alive could be . . .? She wouldn’t even think the word. Instead, she assumed the meditation position and concentrated on a gleam of light reflected from the tomb.
As she left her body and sped down towards the manor, she realized the fight was over, the battle won.
The manor door was no barrier. She melted through it as she had the rock on the High Place. In the corridors people stood about in knots, talking in hushed voices. The atmosphere was a lament of tension.
She made her way to Kavan’s quarters. Torma guarded his door. She touched the trooper’s tired cheek in reassurance and saw him smile. He had enough high sense to know all was well.