The Fallen God

by Gary Mark Lee

  The death shadow, he thought, the flower of fire. As his keen senses took in the memories of his past his mate riding beside him also felt a stirring in her mind.

  A white flower? She asked her mind, why am I thinking of a white flower? She turned the head of her Whiptail so that she was riding close to the Kings side, “what can you tell me about a white flower?” she asked.

  The question from the Selcarie woman made him stop his waking dream, she hears my thoughts, speak the truth or she will know, “in the forests of the Norgonie there is a flower that is called the death shadow. Its petals are white as the snow on the mountains but its fragrance burns the mind”. Arn hope there would be no more questions but it was not to be.

  “Burns the mind?” the girl, asked, “what does that mean?”

  But the King did not want to answer and looking for a way out he pointed ahead with his war-ax, “now is not the time for questions, watch and you will see the forest come alive”.

  Andra did not grow up with the Outlanders; she was a farm girl who had always stood up for herself and refused to back down when she wanted something. And now she wanted her questions answered, if he thinks I’m going to keep quiet like a housemaid he is...”, but before she could put her thoughts into words there was a great blast of horns and she turned to see the forest awake.

  With a rising of the Kings ax the wagons of the Almadra stopped, the Elders watched as the warriors rode past them to the front of the column. Only the Thungodra stayed behind to guard the Holy Shrine. But they drew closer to the huge wagon and lowered their face guards and there was a whispering of prayer asking Isarie to give them strength to follow their vows of keeping the Holy Mother safe or perishing by her side.

  In the back of the wagons Kuno shouted out orders to turn their Spikebacks so that the long-range weapons of the tribe could be fired at what lay ahead.

  “Stand ready to fire if called on”, he shouted “and if you miss your marks I will have your heads!”

  When all was done as he had ordered he sat proudly on his beast and smiled at the sky overhead.

  If they want to fight, he thought it is a good day for it, then when he thought no one was looking he took lifted up a jug of well-aged Po that hung from his saddle horn and took a deep draft of its sour contents. If I am going to die this day I do not have to die thirsty.

  Anais did not see the warriors riding to the front but he did not need to, he knew that they were approaching the great forest and he knew what lay within. I will find what I seek there, why he thought this he did not know, but it caused him to smile.

  Beside him Kela held the reins of the Trofar tightly, for the last time they had journeyed to the land of the Norgonie she was still a child, and had not yet reached her first re-birth. They do not worship as we do, she thought, they are not of the chosen.

  Osh was very excited at seeing what no other scholar of the Outer Rim had ever seen. Although there was some information on the Nomads and the different species that lived in the stone cites, there was very little known about the people that made their home in the mysterious forests of Caltarine. And knowing that he was going to be the first Callaxion to record the society that lived there made his old heart pound with excitement.

  I will see what no other has seen, he thought; perhaps someday my name would be spoken in the great halls of learning? This hoped for future made him take out a fresh scroll of Rimar hide and open a new pot of marking ink.

  “I wonder if there are a matriarchal or patriarchal society and do they hunt or cultivate their food?” these questions were purely rhetorical but it did not matter anyway because his Sandjar son had questions of his own.

  “Do you think they will try and eat me?” he asked his father.

  The old man shook his head, “I don’t think so, although it is technically not cannibalism, I do not think they would do such an uncivilized thing”.

  These answers brought some pain to the mind of the Callaxion for he knew quite well that eating your own kind was a common practice among the Scavengers and he thought he should apologize to his Sandjar son but he decided not to and let the matter go.

  Endo heard the words of his father, they may not eat me, he mused, but that does not mean they will not kill me, then unseen by his father he reached down to make sure that the chamber rifle he kept under his seat was still there.

  The warriors of the Almadra formed to long battle lines in front of the wagons and fanned out to the right and the left of their King. They held their weapons in strong fists and waited silently. It was an impressive site, each man and woman held their heads high and the suns shone off their horned helmets in flashes of gold and silver. Under them the fearsome Whiptails pawed the ground and grunted, they opened and closed their dagger rowed jaws and sniffed the air hoping to find the scent of blood on the wind. Long spiked tipped tails snapped back and forth like grass snakes under the boot heel of an Outlander and when they struck the ground tuffs of greenery tore loose from the earth.

  But there were no war cries from the Almadra, they did not beat the drums nor shout to the Gods to grant them the strength to kill their enemies. They simply stood like statues, iron hard and unmoving, but inside of each one of them beat the heart of a warrior.

  Arn the King also waited, his keen eyes watched the forest line ahead of him like a Sagar cat watching for prey. The corded muscles on his forearm tighten as he gripped the handle of his war-ax and a small trickle of sweat began to form on his upper lip.

  All this Andra saw clearly, and although she did not know why her heart began to beat harder as if she was being chased by someone or something.

  There is danger here she thought, but there was also something else, something that she wasn’t sure about, and then a face flashed before her eyes, a woman’s face, a face with glowing green eyes. But before she could know what she saw the image was gone, and she watched as Arn spurred his Whiptail forward a few lengths then call out in a voice that filled the air.

  “We are the Almadra, we come to your lands in peace, but if you wish to fight we are here!”

  The words of the King hung in the air for a time and there was only the sound of the wind to answer him, then like a roaring of an Earth Shaker the forests of Caltarine came alive. A great blast of voices rose up from the trees and with it came an echoing cry of just one word.

  “Norgonie!”

  Out of the great forest came the emerald people, they rode great beasts that numbered in the hundreds, they were not Whiptails or Spikebacks or any animal that roamed the Outlands, these were creatures of shadowed woods and open glens and rulers of their domains.

  They moved on four huge legs, and were twice the height of a man, they were called Rowgor, and their grayish green barrel like bodies were covered in thick hide that was a strong as armor. They had short heavy necks and a broad flat head that had two massive tusks protruding out like great ivory teeth. They had no mouths to speak of just a large dripping maw with a dozen or more tentacles that waved about ready to snatch anything in their path, two small eyes gave them site and between those eyes was a large bony plate to further protect their thick skulls.

  Riding on top of each one of them was a warrior of the Norgonie, they were not as massively built as the Nomads with wide shoulders and heavy arms. These people were tall and slim with long strong frames made for speed rather than strength, there elegant chiseled bodies were covered in animal skins and small plates of armor, and where skin showed it was stained green by the juice of the Safic berries.

  Arn watched as the Norgonie came forward, and as they did his heart beat faster.

  It has been a long time he thought but now that time is over.

  Andra held her place as she watched the wall of forest people coming towards her, she could feel her Whiptail between her legs shaking in anticipation. She did not know it if was from fright or its eagerness to fight.

  No one spoke as the moving wall of warriors rode forward, but the ground began to shake from the
pounding of the Rowgor’s heavy feet and several of the Nomads Whiptails pulled at the bits in their mouths and roared eager for battle.

  As the drew nearer Andra could make out more detail of the riders, they were both male and female, each one sitting proudly on a ornately decorated saddle with a large round shield, carry bags and hand weapons hanging from it. Under the saddle was a heavy blanket of finely woven chain mail that reached almost to the ground, a further protection against arrows, spears or whatever weapon might be used against them.

  The warriors held a long spear in their hands and around their waists hung long daggers fixed to broad belts made from Rimar hide.

  They are well equipped for the forest, she thought remembering her days as a soldier and fighting in many dense forest and woodlands not only on her own Homeworld but the many other battlefields of the Outer Rim.

  Arn remained calm as the Norgonie moved slowly over the distance between the forest and where the Outlander waited for them. But although his face showed no emotion inside he was troubled, they have not changed, he heard is mind say, they are still proud and ride as if they ruled this world.

  Osh’s heart also beat hard but it was from excitement at the site before him, they are magnificent, he thought as his thin fingers quickly scribbled his observations. He could hardly control his hands as he worked feverishly to record every tiny detail of what he saw.

  Beside him Endo was apprehensive, his people had never seen the mysterious Norgonie and in their culture they were known as demons that would torture you with glee then devour your body. He once more reached down and touched the cold barrel of his chamber rifle.

  There was only a short distance now between the people of the forest and the wanderers of the Outlands.

  Andra could now make out clearly the face of their leader. She was a woman, she was tall with a strong body and elegantly carved features, a straight nose and high cheekbones, her lips were full and colored red. Her hair was ebony and braided with ivory and gold stays, the long fangs of a Sagar cat hung next to her face and around her neck was a necklace made from animal teeth. Her skin was a dusky color and marked with green stripes as were her shapely legs and strong arms.

  She wore a short garment of spotted skin that hugged her well-proportioned frame showing off a body that was both strong and supple. Around her small waist was a broad belt with an ivory handled dagger hanging in its sheath.

  But the most intriguing things about her were her eyes; they were deep emerald green in color and seemed to glow with an inner fire.

  Suddenly Andra remembered the imaged that had flashed in her mind, the face with glowing green eyes, that face is hers.

  Before the Selcarie girl could wonder how such a thing could be, the green eyed woman’s Rowgor stopped in front of the King and they both looked into each other’s faces. It was the woman who spoke first.

  “It has been a long time Arn of the Almadra”, she said softly, then she pointed her spear at the Nomad, “if you come for battle then the Queen of the Norgonie is ready”.

  Arn mulled over her words then with a smile on his face he looked up at the sky and the suns that were about to set, “it is late in the day for fighting, perhaps we could rest for tonight and see what tomorrow holds?”

  This brought a smile to the face of the warrior woman and she lowered her spear, “very well, tonight we feast and dance under the stars”. Then her face changed and her eyes burned with fire, “but remember this, if you lie to me again your head will hang from my saddle”.

  The King said nothing but he did lower his war-ax and seeing this the warriors to his left and right did the same. Then the leader of the forest people turned to her tribe and spoke in a voice that all could hear.

  “Tonight we feast!” and hearing those words the Norgonie gave out with a loud cheer, and hearing it the Outlanders took up the call and the air filled with shouts of joy.

  But there was one Norgonie who did not cry out, rather he sat astride his Rowgor and gazed with a cold vengeance on the King of the Almadra.

  How long I have waited, Ral thought, but now the waiting is over.

  As the Nomads followed the Norgonie into their forest Andra could not help but wonder at the words she had heard the woman speak if you lie to me again? She thought why would she say that? She looked over at Arn riding beside her; did he know this woman before me? She knew that the Nomads were a very long lived people, their yearly cycle was the equivalent of four of her years and she also knew that Arn had seen many cycles even though he looked young he was three times her age and more. It would be silly to think that he had never had a woman before her, but knowing this did not cool the jealousy that was now beginning to burn inside her.

  But before she could ask about the woman they entered the age-old forest of Caltarine.

  It was like being swallowed by nature. All about them was life, a green world of fantastic plants and animals, gigantic trees with trunks so large that a dozen men holding hand to hand could not encircle them. They rose up like moss covered giants to a canopy that filtered in the sunlight in golden beams of warmth. The limbs of those trees grew together until it appeared that the whole forest was one single plant, a colossal interwoven flora of green.

  Along with the great trees were numerous smaller vegetation’s, saplings and vines at thick as a mans arm or as small as a child’s finger, flowers of all shapes and colors grew everywhere and with them came a fragrance that filled the soul and made the head spin.

  Strange creatures also thrived in the forest, birds of magnificent plumage and feathered with all the colors of the rainbow, their chirping and wild cries filled the ear along with the guttural roars of beasts that remained hidden in the thick foliage. Dotflies and Whisper-wings darted about trying to evade predators only to be trapped and devoured by plants that fed on their kind.

  But for all its beauty Andra could also feel danger, she did not know why or how but from the corner of her eyes she could almost see creatures watching her. What they were or why they watched she did not know? But when she turned to look at them they vanished like mist in the morning. And along with the creatures there seemed to be a memory, a vague remembrance of things past, and although she knew it could not be her past it still called out to her and roused deep feelings in her heart.

  Why do I remember when I shouldn’t? She asked herself, then the words of the green-eyed woman returned to haunt her, and she turned to her mate who did not look at her but seemed far away.

  “Who was that woman that said not to lie to her again?” she asked calmly.

  Without turning his head the King replied. “Her name is Ishea, she was once my mate”.

  Chapter 15.

  The Toys of Isarie.

  The Goddess Isarie was once a small child, and like all children she danced and sang and played under the heavens. Her mother Nigor gave her many wonderful toys to play with and because of that her sisters became very jealous, they too had toys but they were not content with them so they went to their mother and said.

  “Why do you give such wondrous things to Isarie and not to us?”

  But Nigor knew that she had given even finer toys to them so she smiled and said, “If your toys are not wanted give them to your sister and she will gladly give hers to you”

  And hearing this offer from their mother the three sisters bowed their heads in shame for they knew full well that their mother had tricked them. Then without saying a word they turned and walked away.

  But childhood does not last forever and so the day came when Isarie cast away her toys and they fell from the stars to the land of her Chosen. And there they will remain for all time for the playthings of the Gods are not meant for the hands of mortals.

  Old Nomad story.

  Valen followed the Iron God as it traveled over the Sirolian Plains, for many days and nights he stayed in his saddle and did not rest or sleep. His only food was rotten Rimar meat and he drank only bitter water from his canteen. And although his Whiptail gr
unted and roared to have his belly filled he was only permitted to scavenge dead burrow babies and whatever carrion the Sundroppers had left.

  He traveled down from the desolate valleys of Omar-Ran into the land of the Earth Shakers and near the place where the Heart of Shawcona once lay. The trail was easy to follow for the tracks of the great beast were many times larger than the footprints of the biggest Trofar. The sky was also filled with circling Sundroppers, a sure sign that the Iron God had passed and left death in its wake.

  I will follow you monster, he thought, I will follow you into the Pit of Marloon if need be.

  The wind was starting to rise when Valen urged his mount up a small rise, on the other side lay a dozen or more dead Outlanders. And although the bodies were bloody and torn by the beaks and claws of ravenous sky birds there was still enough left for the Caladon warrior to recognize what tribe they were.

  Ozendra, he thought, I fought beside them in the great war with the Talsonar.

  Valen had no great love for the Ozendra for they had once made war on his tribe and killed his grandfather, but they were Outlanders and being so he could not pass them by and let the scavengers have what remained of them. He got down from his Whiptail and tied the beast to a jagged piece of steel that was half buried in the ground; there were several more chunks of rusty metal about for they were very near the place where the Toys of the Gods lay.

  After securing his mount the young warrior moved to a body near him, it was lying face down and there was a large portion of his back missing for the sky birds had been feasting. Valen bent down and turned the dead man over.

  I know this man, he thought, he is Hasgar. He knew this because he had seen him bury his loving mate and warrior sons after the great battle with the Pyramid people and because he had once insulted him at a Gathering. He was not a full warrior then and therefore could not challenge him but ever sense that day he bore a grudge against the man and longed for the day when he could take his revenge. But now as he looked at the dead man his anger melted away like a land mist at Sunbirth and he could only see a Nomad who had no one to bury him.