Whom The Gods Love

by M. M. Perry

  “I don’t believe that,” Inez said in defense of the god.

  Cass turned to her startled.

  “You think Oshia is a kind, benevolent god?” she asked.

  “No. I think he only plays this game with mortals because he hasn’t got what he wants yet,” Inez said.

  “You mean Issa?” Nat suggested helpfully.

  Inez did not answer.

  “Issa,” Callan said, “the lover who spurned him.”

  “Issa never spurned him,” Inez said angrily. “You’ve been telling these stories this whole trip now and I’m growing weary of hearing them told incorrectly.”

  “Then by all means,” Cass said gesturing for Inez to continue, “cure us of our ignorance. Tell us the story of Issa. You have yet to share any tales so far. And I seem to recall you mentioning you would someday. We are coming to the end of our adventure. Surely this is as good a time as any.”

  Inez looked at Cass through narrowed eyes and smiled.

  “Perhaps I shall.”

  Inez took a swallow of water before speaking.

  “Issa is the goddess of beauty. A new god, and one that rarely stirs the interest of mortals. She is worshipped by few, if any. But she was quite sought after by the other gods, both new and old. The daughter of Timta and Laota, she grew up in a house where her mother dared not look upon her, for fear she would see the face of the man she could not love, Issa’s father. Issa became bitter, unable to understand the coolness and distance of her upbringing. Natan, the god of stealth and disguise, recognized this, and took Issa to his side, comforting her when no other could. Over time Natan grew to love Issa, and unlike the other gods, for more than her beauty. They became lovers, much to Timta’s distaste, but Issa didn’t care. Natan gave Issa love, while her mother only ever gave her indifference.

  “Natan had many other lovers though, cruel goddesses who might lash out at Issa. So their love had to remain hidden from the likes of Freesus and Numé, lest Issa be harmed by their jealousy,” Inez said.

  Gunnarr interrupted Inez then.

  “Numé did not willingly go to Natan. She was tricked into believing he was another. Why would she harm Issa? She was the goddess of the night, and cared little for the infighting and squabbling of her brethren.”

  “Everyone says such things about Natan, that he tricked his women into loving him. But that just isn’t true. He was a kind god who helped people. That is why those women were drawn to him. He has been smeared by the new gods and their subjects,” Inez said as if that was the final word on the subject.

  Gunnarr rolled his eyes disbelievingly. Inez glared at him before continuing.

  “In any case, Oshia found out about the couple. You see, he had been watching Issa from afar. Much like many of the other gods, he found her beauty intoxicating. He had been watching her for some time before he caught her with his father. He grew angry at his father for betraying his mother, whom Natan was still married to. He confronted Issa, told her she needed to leave Natan, that Natan would betray her as he betrayed Oshia’s mother. Eventually, Issa was swayed by this argument. She could also see how much her affair with Natan was hurting Oshia, and she didn’t want to cause him pain any longer. But she was fearful Natan would be very angry if she left him. Oshia convinced Issa that if they could get Natan to renew his love for Freesus, then he wouldn’t be so upset by Issa’s leaving him. Oshia told Issa he was sure he could make his father love his mother again, if only he had the time. So Issa went into hiding while Oshia set about his task. Many years passed, and Issa had heard from neither Oshia nor Natan. When she came out of hiding to see what had gone wrong, all she found was her old lover turned to stone on the Plains of the Dead Gods.

  “She went to Oshia, demanding to know what he had done. Oshia told her he took care of everything. His mother and father were forever together, locked in stone. Then he confessed his own love for Issa. Issa, afraid of what Oshia would do if she turned her back on him, did not rebuff him, and allowed him to become her lover. After a time, Issa even came to love Oshia back. As she grew closer to him, she discovered that, like her, Oshia had never had the love of his parents either. She understood him in a way no other god could. Finally able to feel real love, Issa’s for him, Oshia grew less cruel and harsh as time went by. He found he no longer wished to harm others. He had no interest in anyone but Issa, god or mortal, and he spent his every moment trying to make her smile. They were soul mates, never meant to be parted. Ridiculously, unimaginably happily in love with each other. Until one day when Oshia was tricked…,” Inez was cut off again.

  “This story sounds like one of the horrible romantic pieces of tripe the untrained bards sing in town squares for coppers from the ladies. I’m sorry, but even I, who know admittedly little about the gods, find this hard to believe. They both grew up in troubled homes so that makes them soul mates?” Callan said derisively.

  Inez crossed her arms and frowned.

  “Truth is often less interesting than fiction, but that makes it no less true,” she said huffily.

  “Rubbish. Far-fetched tales of how Oshia is just a maligned romantic fool do little to raise my mood or expectations, old woman. Could someone please share a pleasant, believable tale before I go to bed?” Callan asked disgustedly. “Perhaps the story of a warrior who managed to get a boon from Oshia and escape his clutches. Maybe I can learn something that might help.”

  “I don’t think that story would help you at all,” Cass said quietly.

  “I thought you said you didn’t know that story,” Inez spat.

  She was still miffed her own story had been so derided, and was looking to take it out on anyone around her.

  “Why wouldn’t it help me?” Callan asked, ignoring Inez.

  “Because that situation is too different from yours. It’s hard to explain,” Cass said.

  “Well,” Callan said, “I’d like to hear it anyway. Consider it the last request of a doomed man.”

  Gunnarr looked at Cass and nudged her with his boot, encouraging her to speak. Cass sighed, resigned to telling the story.

  “A young woman was given a vision by a seer. The vision, like so many of them, was not pleasant. She was seen trapped in the temple of Oshia, forced to live by his side as his plaything. When the woman asked the seer how old she had been in the vision, the seer said the vision must have been at least ten, and maybe as far away as twenty years off at best. The woman was advised by the seer to steer clear of Oshia’s temple, no matter the temptation to travel there. However, the young woman wanted to be a warrior. She could think of no better way to start out her life than to defy a god. That would be a tale for the telling, that she knew for sure. A rather stupid and impetuous decision was made by the woman.

  “She told the seer not only would she not avoid the temple, she would go right then and there to see Oshia. The seer questioned this decision, calling the young woman foolish and reckless. The young woman argued that the seer had a vision of her in ten years, not of her as a teenaged girl of seventeen. The seer tried to convince the young woman that just because a vision had been seen, didn’t mean it couldn’t be changed somehow, that the young woman might be hastening her end. But the young woman asked the seer if any of her visions had failed to come true. The seer said no.

  “The young woman, armed with the confidence that Oshia could not trap her as he had so many others, set off toward the temple. It took her many days and nights to get there, just as it has us. But she found luck to be in her favor, and had little trouble reaching the temple. When she got there, Oshia appeared before her as a beautiful man with lavender eyes and golden hair,” Cass said.

  She stopped talking to take a drink of water.

  “What happened next? You can’t stop there,” Callan said persistently.

  Cass blushed and looked away. Gunnarr rescued her from her embarrassment.

  “It is indiscreet. Do you wish details, your highness?”

  Callan cleared his throat and adjusted the co
llar around his neck.

  “Right. Does everyone… get so indiscreet with the gods?”

  “Oshia is the god of seduction, among other things” Gunnarr explained, “as you will find out soon enough.”

  “Oh, I don’t think so. I’m no girl of seventeen. And even when I was that young, with all the young girls at court eager for a tryst with the prince out in the hedge maze, I turned them all aside,” Callan said glibly.

  “I wish I had known some of those girls,” Nat said wistfully.

  “Oh,” Callan said chuckling, “I doubt they would have been so eager if I hadn’t been heir to the throne. They all hoped to be queen one day. The girl in your story probably had similar starry-eyed notions, that she would be Oshia’s bride and bear him a child.”

  “I don’t think so,” Gunnarr said crossing his arms.

  Callan laughed, “Really? Are you purporting to somehow know this young girl’s mind? I think my version likely to be closer to the mark than yours. But my point was that I am married, and deeply in love with my wife. Oshia will not sway me.”

  Cass looked at Callan sideways for a moment, tempted to say something spiteful. But she calmed her temper before she spoke.

  “Well, after the… indiscretions of the night, the girl woke and realized she wasn’t entranced by Oshia, that she was free to go. She wondered why anyone would stay. Oshia was lovely to look upon, but he wasn’t particularly kind or generous or interesting. He had offered her a wish, which she hadn’t even bothered to ask for, somehow knowing it would actually anger him to have to give her any blessing. So she left without making one. She returned to the world of mortals and became a warrior. She told few people her tale, deciding it was tempting fate too much to brag about rebuffing a god, but she soon enough had other adventures aplenty to share,” Cass said.

  “Your story is more rubbish than mine,” Inez said.

  “Perhaps,” Cass said. “It is a rather tall tale. You hear it mainly in taverns, when people are very, very deep in their cups.”

  “Well it hasn’t helped me feel any better,” Callan said irritably.

  “You complain about this a lot,” Viola piped up, “but is it really certain death to seek out Oshia’s help then?”

  “It’s ever been Oshia’s pleasure to lure people into coming here and then trapping them,” Cass explained. “It promises a wish if you come, but Oshia is the god of seduction. By the time it asks you what your wish is, you are so thoroughly enamored of it that the only wish you can think of is to remain by its side for the rest of your, what you’ll soon find out, very short life.”

  “Short life? Does he kill them then?” Viola asked staring off into the blackness of the night. She was looking in the direction of the temple, a flash of fear crossing her face, as if Oshia would come rushing into the night to snuff them out any moment.

  “No, but you forget to eat and drink when in its presence, and you die quickly unless Oshia is interested enough to command you to feed yourself,” Cass said.

  Viola was silent for a moment.

  “But you’ve come anyway?” she asked Callan.

  “Yes,” Callan said, “My seers claim they saw me reunited with my wife. That I should go, that Oshia must take pity on me and will let me live when so many others have died seeking his aid.”

  “Oh!” Viola said, “Then why are you so tetchy this evening? If you shall live…,”

  “Because,” Callan snapped cutting Viola off, “Unlike the idiot in that story Cass just told, I have known enough seers to know that they are sometimes wrong. I don’t trust them completely. Their visions are, of course, perfect. But their interpretations of what they see are sometimes flawed. It could be I’m reunited with my wife in death. It could be Oshia takes the form of…”

  Callan stopped for a moment, unable to complete the thought, it was so horrible to him. He took a deep shuddering breath and his voice was quiet and soft when he continued.

  “But even though I suspect I go to my death, that some unforeseen trick is what awaits me, I still must hold out hope that this isn’t a futile exercise, and that I will be able to save my wife. Because I would gladly give my life for that chance.”

  Viola remained quiet, as if she had been scolded. Callan’s expression was one of utter vulnerability. He looked up to see everyone staring at him. Even Inez had a look of pity on her dusty, old face.

  “I am sorry. I just wish I could have seen her well, one last time. And I fear this won’t work, that Oshia will trick me, as he has so many others. The idea of Melody dying, that I can do nothing…” Callan said, his face threatening to crumple.

  “I have been short with all of you this evening, and you don’t deserve it. I’m sorry,” Callan said as he crawled into his bedroll and rolled over. “I’m just going to sleep now. Wake me when we’re ready to go.”

  Nat and Viola also made themselves comfortable in the grass. Inez sat and glared at Cass for a while longer before sleep overtook her. She had somehow managed to fall asleep sitting up, the angry frown still on her face as she sat next to the fire with her eyes closed and a strand of drool beginning to stream out of the corner of her mouth.

  “You don’t think she’ll fall into the flames do you?” Gunnarr asked quietly.

  “We should be so lucky,” Cass said with uncharacteristic ire.

  “You think she’ll be trouble?” Gunnarr asked.

  “Not for us.”

  Cass sat at the fire, her eyes tracking the flames as they dwindled. She was so deep in thought that she didn’t notice when Gunnarr eventually rolled over to sleep. Eventually, when the fire had dimmed down to just embers, Cass got up and went to a small spring she had found near the campsite earlier when she was looking for fruit. She took her boots off and tossed them aside. She took her armor off and tossed it aside as well. She pulled off the clothes she was wearing under her armor and folded them neatly. Then she stepped into the pool that the hot spring fed and sighed as the hot water soaked into her skin.

  She knew there was no way she would be able to sleep tonight. She wanted to relish the evening, because she knew she might never have another free night for the rest of her life. She thought on the decisions she had made up to this point in her life that had led her to this moment; the people she had helped, the people she hadn’t, good deeds she had done and the people she had done them with. Her thoughts flitted through all the bits, both momentous and mundane, that made up her life and she lamented how fast it had all gone by. She had barely had thirty years to cram an entire life into. She knew it wasn’t enough, but that it would have to do.

  She had no idea how long she had soaked in the water, eyes closed, reliving her favorite moments. After a time, she felt a body enter the water next to her. Gunnarr pulled her close to him and wrapped his arms around her. He had woken and noticed she wasn’t there, so had come to look for her. Cass rested her head on his shoulder.

  “I have to do it,” she said, expecting another argument from him.

  “I know,” Gunnarr said. “He is not the man I first thought he was. He has a noble heart and true intentions. If we can help him, we should.”

  Cass was quiet for a while. The sky began to lighten ever so slightly as somewhere on the other side of the mountain range, the sun’s rays were just beginning to breach the horizon. It would be some time before they saw the sun in the deep valley. By then, they would likely be at Oshia’s doorstep.

  “I’m sorry,” Cass said. “I would have spent the rest of my life travelling with you.”

  Gunnarr kissed Cass fiercely, holding her tightly against him.

  “You are young yet. And the gods are fickle. And, most important, the men of Braldashad are about as stubborn and loyal as it gets,” he said, his voice hoarse.

  Cass smiled at Gunnarr, indulging him this fantasy one last time. Although she wanted to believe in it, that he would somehow find a way to rescue her, she knew that she was finally out of time and out of luck.

  Chapter 16

&
nbsp; Callan woke the next morning to see Cass tucking her armor carefully into the wagon. Instead of her normal warrior’s kit, she was wearing the simple trousers and tunic he had seen her in just once before at the inn in Chulpe.

  “You’re not afraid we might run into anything dangerous on our way to the temple?” he asked while rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

  “No,” Cass said simply. She tucked her boots into the wagon next to the rest of her gear. “We just have one more thing to do, then we’re done. Besides, it’s so warm here, the armor was beginning to chafe. And nothing chafes like armor. Rather face a troll in my skivvies than face a serious armor rash.”

  The rest of the party began stirring, woken by Cass and Callan’s discussion. She made her way round the groggy troop with a bag she snatched from the wagon, offering fruit to anyone who would take it. They ate silently, each of them anxious for their own reasons about what awaited them at the end of the canyon. When they had finished eating, they got onto their mounts and began the very last leg of their journey.

  As the sun rose higher into the sky, the mists above them cleared a little, until they could finally start to see patches of blue here and there. After several hours, it cleared enough that they could see their goal.

  “Look!” Nat pointed and shouted excitedly.

  Almost a mile ahead of the party a huge temple loomed, just visible through the thinner patches of mist. As they grew closer, it became obvious that most of the structure had been carved right into the side of the mountain. Of less certain origin where the thirteen thick stone pillars, each one so wide across that it would take more than a half dozen men holding hands to encircle each of them. These each reached up from the ground high into the air, supporting a vast domed roof that sheltered the entire temple and a sizable portion of the land around it. The roof could have sheltered a small village beneath it, with room to spare. The entrance to the temple was as grand as such a huge structure demanded, at least a dozen feet across and twice that in height. The entrance framed an unnaturally deep darkness. No light came from within the temple itself. So deep was the black void before them that it seemed as though the entrance somehow refused to let in any light, despite there being sufficient light to make out every detail of the reliefs that lined the stonework around the entrance.