The Gods beat us like hot steel, he thought, they mold us to their liking and if we break they can make more.
He continued to walk onward passed the Holy wagon of his mother, and as he looked at the Thungodra warriors surrounding their mistress he again talked to his mind, my mother now baths in the warmth of Isarie, but I have nothing to comfort me.
And as he passed the tent of Anais he saw his blind brother standing outside, my brother was punished for his sins, but what has Moonbud done to offend the Gods?
It could have been argued that Andra was not a true Outlander and therefore not deserving of the Goddess’s mercy. But it could also be said that she had fought as hard as anyone in defense of her tribe and doing so would be enough to have the Gods smile on her. Without her help the Talsonar would have defeated us.
These questions and more continued to plague the thoughts of the King as he walked, then before he knew it he was standing by the northern gate of the Fortress. There were several big Norgonie along with their Drogs at the entrance, but this did not stop the Outlander from demanding they open the huge doors.
“I am Arn King of the Almadra, let me pass”, for a moment the guards did not move and the Nomad monarch thought he would have to fight his way out of the fortress, then as he lifted his ax a voice called out from behind him.
“Do as he says”, the voice said.
Arn turned to see Ishea coming towards him, she had watched his tent from her tower and when she saw him march out she decided to walk with him. She was dressed in from fitting armor and on her head she wore a short helmet with Sagar cat claws about its brim, but the green and brown camouflage stripping did not mark her face and body. She did however carry her Kagar and there was a long dagger in her wide belt.
With a loud grinding sound the large doors began to open, and like the other fortress entrances it was moved by the power of steam. As it rotated on its two shafts there was a bellowing of hot gas that filled the air with a white mist. When the entrance was open the King walked out and over the bridge covering the moat followed by the Norgonie queen.
They did not speak as they walked but each one could feel what the other was thinking.
It was Ishea’s fault for challenging her; the King thought she knew she would be hurt.
At the same time Ishea was also talking to her mind, he is blaming me for what happen to the half-soul, she heard herself say, but there is no place for the weak here.
They continued to speak in silence as they ventured into the woodlands; all about them were the great trees and cradled in their huge branches were the tree top homes of the Norgonie. Nestled high in the branches they would be safe from the hungry predators that prowled the ground and using the many walkways and stairs they were able to move about freely. But for those under them it was a dangerous place, without warriors or the added strength of a Rowgor the King and Queen were vulnerable to the many dangers of the Caltarine forests.
But none of this mattered to Arn for he wanted to get as far away from his people as he could; it was not because he cared little for them or for his mate. On the contrary he was being drowned by caring and for just a short time he wished to be free of all his troubles and become one with his surroundings.
But he was not alone for every step he took he was shadowed by his former love but he tried not to think of her and emptied his mind of all thoughts. But he could not, for try as he might he did listen to her footfalls and the scent of her hair carried on the wind, so when the Fortress could no longer be seen he turned to look into her face.
“Why do you walk in my shadow?” he asked.
The Norgonie queen moved close to him so that she could see clearly into his dark eyes, “have you forgotten that I once walked by your side?” she said. She looked about her, “do you remember this path?” she asked softly, “it is the way to the place of dreams”.
Arn shook his head, “no I have not forgotten”, he replied, “I was going there when I left the fortress”.
He turned and began walking once more and in turn Ishea moved by his side.
For a time more they did not speak but continued further into the dark woods, the stone path that they followed was worn and broken with age. There were great twisted roots jutting up through the cracked flagstones and in the dim light they seemed like monstrous snakes eager to wrap their bodies around careless intruders and crush the life out of them. On either side of the ancient road were huge stone columns and massive statues carved in the likeness of the Gods. Now and then some fallen temple or fortification could be seen crumbling in the green embrace of the woodlands, and always could be heard the wild cries of animals and the screams of hungry Sagar cats.
But dangerous as it was the two warriors continued deeper into the forest and soon the path that they followed vanished and they walked on a narrow trail. The columns from before ended and all that was left to mark any sign of civilization was the faint indentations of other feet that had once come this way. Soon a sound began to rise up; it was not the howling of some dark creature but rather the pounding of water on rock. They passed through a stone gateway that was carved like the open mouth of some giant and as the two Nomads moved through and out of the great head they saw a place that bore strong memories.
It was known as Innoco Imora, the Wailing Water, here it was said the tears of the Gods flowed, and to look at it one could believe that the ancient story was true. Before them lay a large pool of crystal clear water, several thundering waterfalls that seem to emerge from solid rock surrounded it. But if one looked closer it was clear to see that the rocks were not made by nature but seem to be place there by some power beyond the knowledge of the Nomads. In size they were as large as the wagon of the Holy Mother and their surface although worn with age still bore carvings and inscriptions. Along with the great stones one could see what looked like the remains of a statue, and if you were a Norgonie you would know it was the likeness of Arm-Ra himself.
But what caught the eye more than the water and the huge stones were the great mass of white flowers that hung from long vines and seemed to cover anything in their path. They were as large as a hand and had five petals that radiated out from a central bud whose color was a deep red. The vines that they grew out of were filled with sharp thorns and bore a strong resemblance to the deadly Moonbud of the Outlands, but unlike that species these would not kill if touched. But even the smallest of the Norgonie knew by what name they were called.
The Death Shadow.
And all warriors knew their song.
The Death Shadow grows in day or night.
A Flower of Dreams and pleasing of site.
Its Fragrance of lust has pleasure there in.
Eat not of the petals to forget all sin.
All pain forgotten all hopes forgone.
Eat not of the petals least you become
A rider of death and demon spawn.
Arn and Ishea moved to the edge of the pool and stood for a moment listening to the pounding of the water; the mist that rose off the rocks mixed with the scent of the white flowers and filled the air with a sweet intoxicating odor. It seemed to reach into the body and into the soul filling it with a gentle calmness and taking away all cares and leaving only a desire to remain and seek nothing more.
The Norgonie queen stood beside Arn for a time letting the sounds and smells fill her heart, then she slowly turned to the man she once called mate and spoke to him in a soft loving voice, “why did you lie to me?” she asked.
Arn did not speak for a moment or two but when he did his words were gentle, “I did not lie to you” but even as he said those words he knew that he had indeed lied. I did not want to break my word but I had no choice.
As he looked into her emerald eyes old feeling began to rise up in him, feeling that he thought had long been forgotten but once more he drove them down. I will not betray Andra, I will not! And he turned away so that he would not be tempted.
Ishea heard the words of the King and her resp
onse came quickly, “look around you, it was here that I first lay with you, it was here that I gave my body and my heart to you, and it was here that you promised to never leave me”. For a long moment they listened to the sounds of the water and the beatings of their hearts, then the warrior queen looked once more into the eyes of the man she once loved, “did I mean so little to you?”
Arn turned to face her and looked into her eyes once again, “you were my world, but your desire was to become Queen after your mother and my destiny was to be King after my father, our fates could not be broken”.
“Was it so wrong that I wished to lead my people?” she said angrily.
“No” the King replied shaking his head, “but I could not remain behind when my tribe returned to the Outlands, I was raised to be the leader, I could not abandon them no matter how much I longed to stay”.
“Those were not the words you spoke back then,” she said.
The King could see tears beginning to form in those beckoning green eyes, “we were children, we were slaves of our desires nothing more”.
Ishea put her hand into a small carry pouch that hung from her belt and when she withdrew it she held the pink seashell from her bed. She looked at it for a moment then held it up for the Nomad to see, “you gave me this saying that you would take me to the sea and there we would hunt leviathans and sail to the ends of Gorn, was that yet another lie?”
Arn did not look at her; “we were young and foolish”.
Hearing Arn dismiss her eternal love as just the shallow lust of a silly maiden made the Queen strike out in a rage. She threw the shell high in the air and it fell into the crystal water and quickly disappeared into the depths, then she lifted her Kagar and swung it in an ark aiming at the neck of the King. It was only buy a lightning fast movement of his body that Arn saved his life. And before he could think Ishea struck again, this time she leaped high in the air and kicked out with her foot hitting the Nomad full in the chest. The King fell backwards and struck his head on a rock but his helmet saved him from injury, then as the warrior woman moved for him again he swung out with his weapon and caught the shaft of her spear on the edge of his ax. Any other wood would have splintered but Kagars are made from the limbs of Balbar trees and that wood is almost as strong as Itarian steel.
But now the fighting madness was upon them both, all thoughts of mercy or forgiveness vanished in a red mist of death and destruction. All they understood was killing the person in front of them, it did not matter if they were friends of had once loved each other all that they saw now was an enemy and an enemy MUST be killed!
Arn swung his heavy ax at the right side of the woman hoping to break through her defenses and cut her in two, but Ishea quickly moved out of the way and his weapon found only empty air. Now it was the Queens time to strike and seeing that he was off balance she again kicked out with her foot and managed to bend his knee just enough for her to drive her spear into his thigh. The force of the blow pierced his armor and the Kagar point dug into the Kings flesh, but he grabbed the spear shaft and pulled it out before more damage could be done. Now Arn was bleeding and seeing that her rival was wounded gave the Queen added courage, she threw down her weapon and drawing her dagger she leaped upon her enemy and began clawing and ripping at him like a big she cat. She pulled off his helmet but her dagger did not penetrate the thick steel protecting his chest, he in turn broke the straps that held her breastplate and when it fell away she was left naked from the waist up, but still they continued to fight. But the superior strength of the Nomad could not be overcome and holding her weapon hand he pulled her off. Then grabbing her around the middle he lifted her over his head and was about to fling her into the water below.
But Ishea would not be beaten so easily, so as she was being lifted she grasped the arm of the King and when he let go she pulled him along with her. Unable to stop his forward momentum Arn was carried along with the Queen into the pool, there was a great splash as they hit the water. And when each of them returned to the surface the death madness that had over took them melted away, they made their way to the edge of the water and pulled themselves up on the dry bank and there they lay panting for air.
But although the blindness of battle had gone from the Queen her heart was still filled with anger so after a moment of rest she rose up and fell upon the Nomad once more. She had no weapon now so she used her teeth to bite into his neck but Arn grabbed her head and pulled her off, and rolling over he pinned her to the ground with the weight of his body. For a moment they lay there fighting each other with tooth and claw like two wounded animals each one wishing only to rip the other to death. Then after they had spent the greater part of their strength and with their bodies streaming blood they stopped, for there was no longer rage in their minds, it had been replaced by another emotion.
Lust.
The battle had let loose old feelings, feelings that were better left hidden, and anger, rage, betrayal, but it also freed something that they had always known was lurking inside them.
Love.
And now that emotion was free, free to take hold of them and carry them off to a place they knew long ago, so surrounded by the forbidden flower of the Gods they let their heated bodies entwine and forgot all time and space.
Deep in the darkness of the earth there were to others who the Gods had fated to come together.
After being acclaimed “Coraw” or leader by the Sandjar he searched for the young female whose name he did not know, he looked everywhere for her then when he had almost given up all hope he saw her huddling in a small crevasse in the great chamber. He knew that the last time he saw her he made the mistake of speaking in the language of the Outlanders, and hearing this she became frightened for none of her people used that tongue to communicate. So not wanting to make the same mistake he slowly moved towards her with his head down and his hands behind his back, it was a common gesture of the Scavengers for holding up clawed fingers meant that you wanted to fight. Slowly he moved nearer to her and made a soft “purring” sound that was pleasing to the ear, when he was close he sat down beside her but he did not look at her. He sat that way for a long time then he reached into his torn robe and withdrew a small chunk of meat that he had taken from the feeding bins. Carefully he laid the bit of spoiled flesh by her side but he continued to look in a different direction still making the gentle noise.
To an Outsider all this would seem very strange, but to a Sandjar it was perfectly clear for they relied more on body gesture then words and there was no better way to show that he wanted to be friends then to offer the female precious food. The green girl on the other hand was still very cautious but she did poke her small head out of her hiding place long enough to see the meat laying on the ground. Out of the corner of his eye Endo could see the girl was still very wary but he did not make any further moves and continued to look away and hum.
Do not frighten her, he thought, she has known only pain.
As he continued to wait he heard a stirring and risking a look he saw her reach out and take the morsel into her hand, she slowly pulled it to her and then quickly stuffed the meat into her mouth. There was a chewing sound then came something that the young boy had not expected, for his tiny ears began to hear a “purring” sound coming from the small cave. Endo knew this was a good sign and he slowly turned his head so that he could look at her. She was still curled up in her dirty home and to the boy she seemed a pitiful site.
It was not her fault that her life has become so, he heard his mind say, and it is not the will of the Gods, and hearing his mind say this his hatred for the Norgonie became even greater. But as vengeance swelled in his mind and something caused him to pause, it was the same thing that had drawn him into the underworld, the same thing that had overridden his better judgment and compelled him to attack the big Sandjar.
The sent, he realized, it was coming from the female.
This was something he already knew for his father had schooled him well in the reproductive wa
ys of his people but being this close to the cause of his erratic behavior made him forget everything.
It was surely not this particular female that had filled the air of the fortress with the intoxicating aroma and there must be others in the great cave also emitting the pheromone. But that did not matter to Endo, for all he knew or cared about was the small green girl before him and now relying on his instincts he moved slowly forward, all the while making the same soft sounds.
At first the female started to move further back into her hiding place but then she stopped and looked at the young Sandjar, and seeing that he meant her no harm she slowly put out her hand to him and tilted her large head to one side. Endo took this as a good sign and put out his hand also, but being careful not to show his powerful claws, little by little he moved closer to her until he was sitting at her side.
He sat there for a time letting the female know that he was not going to hurt her, then he pointed to himself and spoke in a low voice.
“Endo”, he said softly, then he pointed to her but she did not speak so again he gestured “Endo”, but again there was no reply, then he realized something he had forgotten and that was that females of the Sandjar have no names. Then he remembered the words of his father.
“The Sandjar do not consider females to be of any great value other than reproduction so they do not give them names and simply refer to them as female”.
But Endo was educated and he did not want to refer to the girl as simply “female” so he searched his mind for a name and finally decided on Rawna, which in the language of the Outlands means “emerald”. And to the young Sandjar it seemed a perfect name for she was greenish in coloring and he had found her in the earth, but most of all she was of great value to him.
“Rawna” he said pointing to her, then after a moment he again said the word.
The small female tilted her head again to one side and in her eyes was a questioning look, but after she heard the word “Rawna” several more times she finally understood what her benefactor was trying to do. Her face suddenly smiled and she nodded her head.
The Fallen God Page 37