The Sorrow Anthology

by Helen Allan

  “Yes,” Etienne mused, “and they rule this planet, apparently, so we are at their mercy until the gates reopen.”

  “Yes, the gates,” Sorrow frowned. As she said this, she turned to meet the gaze of one of the Earthborn seated at a table near her. He was tall, as they all were, but not soft looking like some of the others he sat near; his face was all angles and hard lines, his skin tanned, eyes intense. Unlike the others, who had chosen to dress in robes, he had donned Earthborn battle gear, just as Sorrow had. Seeing her stare back at him he looked away, but Sorrow knew he had been studying her for some time, she had felt his eyes upon her. She didn’t recognise him, but guessed he knew who she was. She hoped he was not close to Anhur, because if so, he would likely try to take her life at some point.

  With the gates closed, she knew she had 12 months to survive and prepare before she could leave this planet. That meant 12 months to help make these people battle-ready for the inevitable next wave of lizard attackers. She also knew she had that long before her pursuer, if he was still alive, followed – that he would do so she was positive, although Etienne didn’t agree. He said none of those who had come through from Heaven that he had questioned had been able to confirm if Anhur lived or died. All were men who had fought against the Gharial and most seemed uncomfortable and embarrassed about abandoning their planet, and reluctant to answer questions about the last battle.

  Now they were all together, presumably about to be told where they would be living and what they could expect during their 12-month stay on this planet, but none had joined the table where she and Etienne sat. Instead, they waited separately, their voices low, only the one man with the intense eyes paying them any heed.

  “And you are sure there is no way I can contact Mum?” Sorrow asked again, dragging her eyes away from the man.

  “No ma cherie, Calarnise had no knowledge of any interplanetary communication devices, although she did confirm there are pods here. I would suggest we wait until the God reappears and see if he will let you use one.”

  “Yes,” Sorrow nodded, her thoughts already flitting in a thousand other directions, “he might see reason if I tell him more about the threat the Gharials’ pose – and Anhur.”

  “The lizards will follow,” Etienne said, cutting small slices off the mango-like fruit before him with a pen knife and popping them into his mouth, “but as I said before, Anhur will have his work cut out for him surviving and taking control of his own planet – he won’t bother with you.”

  “No,” Sorrow said, biting directly into her fruit, juice squirting out and running down her chin, “you didn’t see his face as he stabbed me. It is more than revenge; it is more than a hunt, it is something very personal and very strange with him. I can’t explain it. And there’s also his plan to overthrow Osiris – if he has a problem with one God ruling a planet, he might also have an issue with the Gods who rule Avalona. They should be warned; we might be able to join forces.”

  “Either way,” Etienne said, handing her his monogrammed handkerchief and grimacing at her sticky face, “we need to come up with a plan to shut the lizard gate. Seth is much more of a problem to you than Anhur, in my estimation. Sooner or later Seth will turn his attention to other worlds since the gate was closed on Heaven; it stands to reason he will try to destroy all the half-god descendants on all 12 worlds. The Gharial that came through here must have been just a small force, an advance army of scouts perhaps, or sent to lay the groundwork for a full-scale invasion; it is what I would do if I were planning such an interplanetary raid - the bulk were concentrated on Heaven. They can expect more here next year.”

  “Yes,” Sorrow nodded slowly, “that does make sense. But we won’t know which gate to close until they shimmer into existence next year – so it is a moot point.”

  “You seem sad,” Etienne said quietly, reaching over and placing his hand upon hers, “since the tank. What happened in there, ma belle? What did you see?”

  Sorrow put the fruit down on the table and swallowed the lump in her throat. Her pulse had escalated at the mention of the tanks, she didn’t want to share what she had seen, but she knew knowledge was power, and Etienne had a right to know – after all, he had saved her life.

  “I’m sad for so many reasons. I keep thinking about all those humans left behind on Heaven at the mercy of the Gharials, and Joella, Jess, Newto, they all hoped so badly to return to Earth. And John,” she felt tears well at the memory of the human pilot who had sacrificed himself to close the Gharial gate, “poor John.”

  Etienne squeezed her hand and waited for her to go on.

  “And then, the tanks,” she shuddered, “It wasn’t just the children getting their wings cut off. I had this sense there was more, so much more, I felt pain and fear and sensed death, I, I can’t explain it, there is something very wrong with this planet.”

  “No good memories at all, ma cher? Not one? Think now, for what you know could determine whether you and I run for the hills or sit like quiet little captives and do as we are told.”

  “There was something,” Sorrow frowned, “A man, or a bird, no, it was a birdman with a goddess, they were up high, super high, looking across at the landscape – they seemed happy, in love even – I think it was Naunet.”

  “There,” Etienne smiled and leaned back in his chair, “all is not lost. If there is some happiness and love here, then we shall be alright for the time being. And you know, if we find this Naunet we might learn more about Seth and his plans.”

  “True,” Sorrow chewed her lip, “but Etienne, what was Calarnise talking about when she said we might be immune? Immune from what?”

  “Yes that,” Etienne shrugged, “Calarnise calls it ‘the miasma’ she said most people, the Chosen at least, are immune, but the Gods initially suffered terribly and had to separate themselves from contact with the ground-folk, according to this planet’s mythology – hence them dwelling out of reach and never being seen by mortals. It sounds like the usual religious garbage to me though. I have been here running all over the town for months, fit as a fiddle, I believe we don’t need to worry about this illness, if indeed it exists. But,” he leaned forward urgently, staring into Sorrow’s eyes, “regardless, this time, ma biquet, when the gates open, we follow my advice and jump home to Earth – these strange planets were an interesting travel idea, but in practice…” he shivered, “give me Earth women, a nice bottle of wine and a comfy chair – I have had enough of space travel to last a lifetime.”

  Sorrow nodded, but did not agree with him, she had a strange feeling about this planet, an ominous feeling, as though she had been meant to come here, just as she had been meant to be on Heaven, but she had no idea why.

  Their conversation was interrupted by a heated discussion emanating from inside the building they sat near.

  “You do not speak to them,” a man was saying in deep, low tones.

  “But Father, they look so different, to learn about their worlds; is knowledge such a bad thing?”

  Sorrow strained to listen.

  “Serve them, and ask no questions, you have been warned – the priests will direct them away soon.”

  “Yes, Father.”

  Sorrow cast Etienne a worried glance and he rolled his eyes in return as a young woman left the eatery and walked towards them, carrying a tray of steaming drinks. Etienne studied her curiously as she placed the drinks on the table and turned to go, casting him a surreptitious look beneath her lashes.

  “Calarnise is covered in a light coat of feathers, these people are not,” Sorrow remarked after the girl had left.

  “No,” Etienne laughed gently, “they burn them off with a kind of lotion regularly. Calarnise said she does too, but she was so busy after the attacks, healing people, that she hadn’t had time. Usually, her skin looks more like that girl’s, not smooth, but not feathered.”

  “Anything else?” Sorrow asked, feigning a casual tone.

  “You mean body-wise?” Etienne smirked.

 
“Yes,” Sorrow snorted, “I’m a doctor, I like to know these things.”

  “No,” he chuckled as he cut more fruit, “in anatomy they are very much all woman.”

  Sorrow blushed, and Etienne laughed out loud.

  “Ah mon chou, you act to so grown up, and yet, blush like a little girl. Perhaps I should be the one asking about anatomy, after all, I was not the one sporting bite marks all over my neck.”

  Sorrow snorted. “Etienne I’m sure if there was anything you wanted to know about Sin anatomy you would have found out for yourself.”

  “True enough,” he winked, “but did you see the size of those creatures? Not that I would ever question your choice of lover, but, for me, no, I’m afraid I balk at tusks and hairy chests on my women – the idea of waking up half-eaten somehow doesn’t really appeal.”

  Sorrow burst out laughing, ignoring the glares of the Earthborn surrounding them, stopping only when a group of robed men rounded the corner and headed in their direction, led by the head priest.

  “They look like monks,” Etienne said quietly.

  “Yes,” Sorrow nodded, “and not the Friar Tuck type.”

  Etienne smirked as the group approached and the leader, a tall, thin man, his face hidden in shadow by his black cowl, cleared his throat and unrolled a parchment.

  “Visitors,” he said, clearing his throat again to emphasise he wanted their attention as he began to read. “Billets have been arranged on the outskirts of our town for your lodgings. By order of the Gods, you shall be restricted from entering the city or leaving this, the Landfirst Township. You will bolster the guards of this colony and share knowledge of weaponry and the enemy. Any human slaves who have also entered through the portal will be billeted, separately, and will be required to serve in the city alongside the Chosen gardeners, until their death.

  Etienne groaned quietly; he had spent the past two months sweeping paths, weeding and maintaining the pristine walled gardens while getting to know Calarnise. He was not the only human; there were about five of them, none of them, however, were part of Sorrow’s revolution. They were all slaves seconded by the Earthborn to fight the Gharial; all appeared to be still loyal to their Earthborn masters, and none liked the assertion that they would all soon succumb to the miasma.

  “Who are the Chosen?” one of the Earthborn men demanded.

  There was a murmur of concern from the group behind the man reading the proclamation, but he stilled them with a wave of his hand.

  “We, the rightful descendants of the Gods, the rulers of this world, are the Chosen,” he said, his voice deep and melodic, as though he had said these words a thousand times, chanted them.

  “And who lives in the city?” another Earthborn interjected.

  “The Gods,” the robed man said, his words steeped in reverence.

  “Then I demand to be taken to them, now,” one Earthborn man said, rising from the table and making to walk towards the robed man, “I will not be confined to a billet on the edge of this godforsaken village. I demand lodgings that reflect my status and the freedom to go where I will.”

  Murmurings of concern rose from behind the robed man as more Earthborn stood and supported the demands of the one who had spoken.

  “None but the High Priest can see the Gods.” the robed man boomed, his voice cutting across the crowd like thunder, “for they live in the clouds, as ordained. If you do not comply, you will be expelled from this town and targeted for The Hunt alongside the Angels. Only those who stay and follow the rule of law will live.”

  “You would dare threaten us with The Hunt?” an angry Earthborn interjected.

  “Angels are messengers for the Gods,” another interjected, “are you saying you hunt them on Avalona?”

  Sorrow, still seated, leaned forward to hear the reply as an undercurrent of whispered words and grumbles began to emanate from the Earthborn.

  “Angels?” she whispered to Etienne.

  “Not as we know them,” Etienne whispered back, “but then, Heaven wasn’t exactly what we imagined either, now was it? I’m beginning to think much of what we thought was myth or took on faith on Earth has some basis for reality on other planets.”

  Sorrow shook her head and turned to face a priest as his voice boomed across those seated.

  “The history of our peoples is not something we choose to share with prisoners from another world,” a man behind the robed man shouted. “When you have proven yourselves, you will learn all you need to know.” The monks standing behind the robed speaker nodded, although their faces hidden beneath their deep cowls.

  “Prisoners?” the vocal Earthborn shouted, “We? Prisoners?”

  The Earthborn surged to their feet and began to walk towards the robed group.

  “This isn’t looking good?” Etienne whispered.

  Nodding, Sorrow rose and, beckoning Etienne with her head to follow, they slipped away behind the crowd and entered the small, dim eatery.

  Standing near the door, keenly listening to the conversation, was the young girl who had served them. There was no sign of her overbearing father.

  “Hello,” Sorrow smiled kindly. The girl, upon close inspection, looked to be about the same age as herself, late teens, early 20s, “the drink was lovely, thank you.”

  The young woman smiled back shyly but quickly glanced behind to make sure her father was nowhere to be seen. Outside the sounds of shouts and threats of violence were escalating.

  “We would like to leave,” Sorrow said gently, “but we don’t know where to go.”

  The girl clenched her jaw and frowned. She stood quietly for a minute, her head to one side, looking at the floor. Outside, raised voices and shouts could be heard echoing down the street. Finally, she made up her mind, and, raising her large eyes to Sorrow’s, nodded.

  “Come,” she said quietly.

  Leading them towards the back of the building she pointed to a timber door.

  Etienne pushed it open and peered out; it appeared to open directly into the open pasture surrounding the township. The girl pointed across the fields. Far away in the distance Sorrow could see a low fence, about waist height, it looked like a timber post and rail with timber slats filling in the gaps; easy to climb over or breach. Beyond that she could see dense forest with trees taller than anything she could have ever imagined.

  “Holy crap, Etienne,” she said, pointing to the trees, “have you ever?”

  “I know,” he smiled at the girl reassuringly as he answered, “they are taller than the tallest buildings ever constructed by mankind – such majesty, but they are also cloaked in suspicion and fear by these Chosen people.

  “Really?” Sorrow frowned, “I wondered why there were no trees in the White City – the gardens were all low, the gazebos the only shade.”

  “The miasma,” the girl said shyly, “it lives in the ground ‘neath the trees.”

  “Yes, thank you, but we can talk more about this disease later,” Etienne said, impatiently, “let’s go, Sorrow.” Nodding to the girl, he moved to step out the door and head towards the woods.

  “No,” Sorrow said, reaching for his arm and pulling him back inside the building. She turned to the girl. “We don’t want to escape the town. We want to go to the billets, to where your people want my kind, the Earthborn, to stay.”

  “We do?” Etienne said, his eyebrows shooting up in surprise.

  “Yes,” Sorrow said firmly, keeping her eyes on the girl. “Can you lead us there please?”

  The girl smiled her shoulders slumping in relief, and nodding turned to walk out the door to show them the way. But just as she stepped out she gasped and doubled over in pain.

  Sorrow, hearing a faint tick/click, screamed at Etienne to move and threw herself to one side as the young woman exploded. Rising to her knees from where she had landed against the wall, covered in the dead girl’s blood, she looked up into the eyes of a Gharial; its weapon levelled at her face. She gasped as its long taloned finger pressed the trigger, but
as the boom of a weapon resonated inside the small building, she opened her eyes to see the Earthborn man who had been studying her so closely outside, the lizard dead at his feet.

  Panting, she reached up and took his outstretched hand, pulled to her feet instantly by his incredible strength.

  “You saved me,” she said, looking behind him to see two more Gharials, heads missing, lying crumpled on the ground.

  He frowned and, saying nothing, turned to run across the room and out the front door, returning to the street where more sounds of fighting and screaming could be heard.

  “Still want to stay?” Etienne asked from where he stood on top of a fourth lizard, wiping the blood from his sword on a nearby table-cloth.

  Sorrow drew her weapon and headed towards the door, following the tanned Earthborn.

  “Yes.”

  3

  The billets were not uncomfortable, certainly far more luxurious than the Keep had been, Sorrow ruminated upon seeing her room. They were nothing to write home about, and nothing the Earthborn who landed with her would be happy with.

  Being the only female Earthborn to have jumped through the portal, she was accorded a separate room to those males who had survived both the portal jump and the Gharial attack earlier that morning in the town square. Many of those had been billeted in pairs, despite their loud protests.

  Sorrow noted her room was one of about 100 in the double storey, square complex they had been led to. All the rooms were small, a bed, timber desk and chair the only furniture. The walls were bare except for giant wooden Ankhs. Sorrow had seen smaller symbols on Calarnise’s necklace, a symbol of worship much like the cross on Earth – the key of life to the Gods. She surmised these rooms had belonged to those in the priesthood, but as a large majority had been killed in the initial attacks by the Gharials, the complex had been given over now to those few who would defend the town.

  Each room featured just one small window overlooking a central courtyard once used for prayer, but now ostensibly for training, and one door leading out the opposite direction into the long hallway and adjacent stairwells. To Sorrow’s mind the complex looked like a hollow Rubik's cube, only the rooms were not colourful, they were all white. Further along the street two more identical complexes stood, all apparently filled with the Chosen recruited in the face of the Gharial attacks to form the town’s small army.