The Fallen God

by Gary Mark Lee

  He looked around at the landscape and saw all the activity that was taking place, he saw huge machines cutting away at the broken toys of Isarie, and smaller ones lifting parts that he could not name. All around him were thousands of tiny metal creatures scurrying about like so many Blaze-ants, each one knowing where it was going and not colliding with another of its kind. What they were doing and why did not matter, all that concerned the Shadowman was that his master was controlling them. He knew this because he could feel it in his mind, it felt like a tiny buzzing deep inside his brain, and every now and then he had a flash of images in his new eye, a sudden view of things that were not there an instant before.

  He stood for a moment more as many strange images raced across his mind; he saw great battles in the stars and massive ships being blown apart. He saw whole planets burning like so many coals in the fires of a Washa, and he saw moons spinning through the heavens and colliding with their parent worlds. All this and more he saw and he knew it was not his past life that came before him for he had never seen such things, then finally he saw a very strange thing, a thing that caused him to wonder.

  He saw a female holding a small creature in her arms; a tiny human like thing that she cradled against her like it was a precious thing. What the small being was he did not know and before he could wonder at it further it vanished from his mind.

  What was it? He thought, why did she hold it so?

  Then he realized that thinking of such things was a waste of time and he drove it from his head.

  The Darkman walked away from his master and began to wander in the mass of steel and bones that made up the Graveyard, all the while thinking of what was to come and the vengeance that was to be his.

  When Atos is ready he will destroy all in his way, and knowing this made him smile for all his miserable life he had wanted only one thing, to take revenge on those that cast him out. He had tried to do this once before by pitting the Talsonar against the Outlanders but he had failed, and seeing thousands of his brethren killed in the attempted did not matter to him at all, all the really mattered was his hatred and his hatred.

  He continued to wander further and further from the great machine, all the while filling his mind with images of dead Nomads and a planet without his enemies. And as he looked up he saw a man sitting on a mound, ordinarily he would not be able to see him so clearly for he had the sun at his back and would only be a tiny outline set against a rock formation. But his new ocular device gave him many times the vision range of his human eye and he could make out the features of the man as clearly as if he was standing next to him.

  A Caladon warrior, he thought, there was no mistaking the marking of that tribe and the design of their helmets and armor, and it was a Caladon warrior without question. Why would an Outlander come here? At that moment he realized that the man was following his God and him, he will warn others of his kind, and they will come, this was something that he could not let happen, Atos was not ready for battle and needed more time. And lifting his metal arm he started to move towards the mount and the interloper that was watching him.

  Valen could see the human walking towards him but he did not run, rather he stood up and let him see all of him and then lifted his war-ax above his head. It was a signal that he was ready to fight and would face him man to man.

  If he wished to test my strength let him. But for all his courage he knew that he held the high ground and it was better to let his enemy come to him rather them go down to meet him, and he also remembered the pain when he drew near the metal monster. How this human could withstand that torment was something that made him wonder.

  Perhaps he has an amulet or knows some magic that allows him close to the creature? And thinking this only made him want to fight more for if he possessed such a bauble or knew such magic words he too would be impervious to the power of the iron monster.

  Let him come, Valen thought I will defeat him and steal his magic.

  Once again the Caladon waved his weapon above his head and shouted out the war cry of his tribe.

  The Darkman moved up the rise directly towards the Nomad, and knowing that he had no weapon he stopped for a moment and took up a jagged piece of steel that was protruding from the ground. It was over a meter in length and as wide as a man’s hand, its edge was raggedly shaped and still sharp enough to cut flesh, in the hands of a warrior it would make a formidable weapon. Taking the steel in his iron hand he once more headed for the invading Outlander.

  I will kill him, he thought, and I will take his head back as a trophy.

  But as he moved further and further from his master his own head began to ring with pain, and it was not only his head but also his legs started to lose their strength. With each step the power that they once held began to wane and he stumbled again and again, but he continued to move forward trying to ignore the growing agony, then his leg collapsed under him and he fell to the ground.

  “What has happened to me?” he asked in a painful voice, and he tried to rise up but he took only a few steps and he fell once again, and this time his left arm refused to catch his fall and he tumbled head first into the hard earth. He lay there for a moment with his limbs unable to move and his head bursting with pain. He tried to look up at the warrior on the mount and see if he was coming to attack, but his new eye failed him and all he could make out was a swilling blur without shape or color. But his one remaining eye could see that the Caladon was not coming closer.

  Valen could see that his enemy had fallen, and for a moment he wanted to race down and cut off his head, he shouted twice more the wild war cry of his tribe and then he beat his ax upon the ground. It was then that he remembered the pain when he drew close to the great monster and he stayed where he was. It was a very difficult thing to do for he was a warrior of the Outlands and bred for fighting, but he managed to keep control of his instincts and remain on the mound.

  Below the Darkman spit out his rage, “what has done this to me!” he screamed. But there was no one to hear him and the many Repairbots and Spotters were not programmed to respond to his commands so he lay there cursing the heavens and uttering words that cannot be spoken here. Then after venting his rage he managed to roll over and using his one remaining human arm he began to pull himself slowly back the way he came. Each movement was agony for him, but his will to survive was great and he dismissed the pain in his head and dragged himself closer to his God.

  With every meter closer back the way he came the pain in his head lessened and the power in his legs and arm began to return. Soon he was able to stand and walk with shaking steps, and after a time he was able to move as well as he had done before. His eyesight became clear and he turned to see the Nomad looking down at him, and before he could stop himself he shouted out with all his strength.

  “Tell all the people of the Outlands that Atos has come!” he raised his iron fist and shouted out once more, “ATOS HAS COME!” and laughing he turned and walked back to the God that would make his threats come true.

  That night Valen returned to his hiding place for the winds from the west began to rise and he knew that a great storm was coming. He managed to kill the small Sand Dragon that had eaten the Rockrunner by cutting his arm and letting the fresh blood drop on the ground. Then waiting till the underground reptile poked is scaled head up and cut it off with his ax, he dug the rest of him out of the earth and took it back to share with his hungry Whiptail. It was not a good meal for the flesh of a Sand dragon is sourer to the taste but without anything else to eat there was no other choice.

  Now as a light rain began to fall on the outside of the broken dome Valen lay back on his saddle and thought about the words that the man had spoken.

  Atos he said, Atos is the God of war, the Caladon warrior knew all about the legends surrounding the warrior God. He remembed the story of how Shawcona the Goddess of love wanted him as her mate but he refused for he loved war and death more then he loved her. She in turn was so unhappy she tore out her heart and flun
g it to the ground and it became a great rock known as the Heart of Shawcona. He also knew that the Heart had risen up into the heavens and became part of the new moon called Andra, this he had seen with his own eyes. And if he could see a new moon come into being perhaps he had seen the God of war return to Gorn?

  Is the metal monster the God Atos? It was a question that made him think further, if it is indeed the war God how can I hope to defeat it? He knew there were stories about Nomad warriors fighting demons and monsters from the Pit of Marloon, there were even legends of past Nomads who strength was so great they could stand and fight with a God. But he also knew that he was not a warrior of legends, he was only an Outcast of the Caladone and there would be no songs sung about him around the campfires and no one would remember his name.

  As the rain began to come down harder Valen lay back and closed his eyes and after a time he slept and in his dreams he saw himself walking alone in a dark world without warmth or light, a forgotten moon filled with forgotten people.

  Chapter 23.

  Answers.

  In my Holy Temple lie the answers to all questions.

  For my knowledge is without end and my wisdom vast.

  Those that worship me may enter and be safe.

  But those that do not bow down before me will die.

  From the Book of Arm-Ra.

  Andra lay unconscious in the tent of the King and although the best of the Touchtenders cared for her the Angel of Death hovered near. Arn stood by her bedside and watched as the healers worked their magic on his beloved, and although he did not show it his heart was filled with pain.

  I will not let her die, he told himself, If I have to sacrifice my life for hers I will. It was a vow that he took very seriously for he would have done so if he were certain that the Gods would carry out his wish. But he also knew that prayers often go unheeded and the best way to assure contentment is to do the thing yourself, so he commanded that the Touchtender do whatever they could, use whatever means at their disposal to save the life of the one he loved.

  And that is exactly what the mystic healers did, they mixed ancient remedies and potions, they placed healing amulets by her head and filled the air of the tent with rare incense and spices and as they did this they chanted magical words over and over again.

  They mixed large portions of Grana with fresh milk from a strong Trofar and put it into her mouth for they knew that the green salt was the gift of the Goddess and was the most powerful medicine they possessed. This they did all through the night and into the morning. But still the Selcarie girl did not wake.

  As a last resort Arn sent for Osh to come and hoped that his Off-World wisdom might bring Andra back from the darkness and into the light. The King waited and then a warrior entered the shelter and told him that the Callaxion had arrived.

  “Send him in quickly”, ordered the King.

  A few moments later the old man entered the tent, he stood for a moment looking down on the woman who had saved his life and then he spoke.

  “Send everyone away”, he said with authority, this was not the way that the Callaxion usually spoke but seeing the condition of his friend he took it upon himself to take charge.

  Arn could see that Osh needed space to work so he ordered the Touchtenders to leave and not wanting to disobey their King they bowed and walked slowly out of the tent. When they were gone the old man moved to the bedside of the girl and began to examine her.

  When Osh had first heard that his old friend was injured he quickly gathered up his carry bag and filled it with as many devises and herbs as he could carry. He understood that the knowledge of a Touchtender was vast and their healing methods very great, but they did not have the scientific understanding of human physiology that he had. And although he usually did not want to intrude on the traditions of the Nomads the affection he had for Andra made him rush to her side.

  He gently removed the soft cloth that was covering the girl’s head and looked at the wound to her skull.

  There is a massive contusion to her cranial cavity, he thought, I cannot be sure if there is a swelling of the brain but she is definitely in a deep coma. Osh was not a doctor by any means but he had scanned many medical journals and once was responsible for collating information on war injuries on Yougorno when they fought with the Parragans. Now he used that knowledge to try and help his friend. And after checking over her strong body he could see that she had many small cuts and scrapes, but the head wound was the only thing that might kill her.

  After replacing the cloth to her head he turned to the waiting King, “all that can be done has been done”, he said solemnly, “she is in a deep sleep, whether she wakes from that sleep I cannot say”.

  Arn heard the words of the old man and understood them, but he still wished for more. “All your wisdom cannot help her?” he asked.

  Osh shook his head, “no, it is beyond my knowledge”.

  For a moment the old man thought the King was going to speak to him again but he saw him turn away and he knew it was time to leave, so he picked up his carry bag and quietly left the tent.

  Once outside he moved passed the many warriors who were standing guard around their leader and the Handmadens who had tears in their eyes. He continued to walk back to his Karrack and as he left the Outlanders and moved through a narrow corridor between to stone buildings he suddenly heard footsteps moving swiftly up behind him. And before he could turn to see who was there a dark robe was forced over his head and a strong hand covered his mouth. And despite his struggling he was carried away to a fate he did not know.

  It could be said that the ceremony of Rowgal was the main reason that the Nomads came to the forest of Caltarine and it would have been mostly true for they were a very religious people. But it was not the only reason, they also came to trade for the people of the forest had many things they wanted and in spite of the concern over the fate of the Kings mate, it did not stop the Outlanders from seeking out and bargaining for wonderful items.

  And the Norgonie were content to offer what they had for the things that were brought by the Nomads. First of all came the Itarian steel, the Outlands were covered in the wreckage of fallen Lightships but there were very few remains of the Off-World crafts in the woodlands, and most of them had already been picked clean by past Norgonie leaving only substandard materials. And the forest people needed lots of steel, they used it for many purposes, weapons, utilitarian items and to make repairs on their pumping systems, they also needed the strong metal to replace aged support beams and shoring in their fortress walls and buildings to keep them strong. And knowing this the Nomads collected vast amounts before entering the lands of the Forest-dwellers and now they used it to trade for goods they wanted.

  And it was not just metal that was precious, shells from the Western Sea were much sought after by the forest women to use in jewelry. There were also herbs that grew only in the Outlands, cloth from the people of the pyramid cities, carvings, pottery, gold and silver cups and trinkets. Roots used for making tea and ground up for spice, great bags of Kasha-wheat for making bread and tiny pouches of the rarest of incense. All matter of things were traded and there were always new items to catch the fancy of a man or woman in the trading stalls of the Norgonie.

  But the one thing that they did not offer was Grana for the people of the forest did not consume the precious salt. But that was of little matter to Anais and Kela for they had come to find a Sagar tooth necklace to fulfill the promise of the blind Prince. And it did not take them long to find exactly what they were looking for.

  They found a well-stocked trading stall run by a rather large man with a fat belly, he was not handsome of face and most would call him ugly, but he was a shrewd merchant and knew how to get the most from what he had. So he pretended to listen carefully to the man and young woman now before him but he was certain that he would make the better trade.

  “We will trade you two fine bracelets of pink shells for one necklace,” said Anais to the Nogonie trader
who shook his head.

  “Do you think me a fool?” replied the man; “a necklace of this quality is worth five shell bracelets and a Rimar horn if not more”.

  The Nogonie was quite right in saying what he did but he made the mistake of not recognizing the man who was bargaining with him for it had been a long time sense he had seen him, and the Nomad kept most of his face covered by a hooded robe. But now that man pulled back his head covering and showed his features to the forest trader.

  “You are still good at bargaining Kor”, the blind Prince said with a smile.

  Kor was indeed the trader’s name and when he saw whom he was talking too his demeanor changed quite abruptly.

  “Oh it is you”, he said with a stammer, “I thought you were....”

  “Dead?” added the Prince.

  The jewelry trader had heard that Anais had died in the war with the Talsonar and this had made him content for he had dealing with the Prince in the past and those dealings were better off forgotten. But now he could see that the stories were false and an older but quite alive Anais now stood before him, so thinking for a moment more he decided that two fine pink shell necklaces was enough.

  “I have thought the matter over and I will trade”, he said with a half-smile.

  Anais smiled at the old friend and then turned to Kela who had been standing silently beside him, “is the necklace to your liking?” he asked.

  There was really no need to ask for the teeth were of the highest quality and attached to each other with many finely woven strands of gold and silver wire, there was also several precious stones set with more gold and the attaching mechanism was a marvel of workmanship.