The Fallen God

by Gary Mark Lee

  When he thought all was lost a rider less Whiptail ran passed him and reaching out he grabbed one of the dangling reins and it pulled him away from the carnage, out from the camp and into the night the war beast stampeded pulling the Outcast warrior to safety.

  It was almost Sunbirth when the screams from the Caladon camp ended and the Shadowman slowly walked through the broken wagons and the bodies of the slain.

  All about him lay woman and children, the old and the young, the weak and the strong; they were now just lifeless shells of a once mighty and strong tribe. But it did not matter to the half-man for he saw only a victory over a people that he hated.

  They were my enemy, he thought, and my enemies deserve to die.

  He sat down on a broken wine barrel and watched as the metal spiders did their work; they removed the heads of the dead and began to carry them back to their master. It did not matter if they were young or old, all that mattered was obeying the commands that were given to them, and being what they were they would follow those orders without questions. When the last of those heads were gathered up the Repairbots began to round up anything that might be of value to the Orb, first they loaded the long-range canon along with as much ammunition as they could find into the great machine. Next they searched for any weapons the might be of use in combat, but they found only primitive defense mechanisms and returned to their home.

  As the morning light began to fill the sky the Darkman took one last look at the blood soaked ground, they deserved to die, he told his mind, and then he returned to the darkness.

  From his Whiptail Valen could see the smoke that was rising from the destroyed camp of his people and on the air was carried a strong odor of burning flesh.

  “They did not deserve to die”, he told his mount, “they were a strong people” but his Whiptail only pawed the ground and growled softly, he could smell the scent of death on the wind and it wished to be gone from where it stood. It had taken some time before the reptile excepted Valen as his new rider and more than once it had tried to turn and bite him but a few hard pulls on the reins and a blow or two to its thick head and soon the beast settled down.

  As Valen looked at the Iron God slowly moving to the South again he thought of all that he had seen and all that he had tried to do.

  I tried to seek revenge but I was defeated, he mused, I tried to warn my people but I failed---I have done enough. He slowly turned his Whiptail and began moving to the North, I have no armor or weapons, I cannot do more, but as he moved away from his enemy something began stir in his mind. You are still alive; you have not been defeated. He pulled back on the reins and stopped, you swore an oath, and you cannot break it!

  And knowing that he spoke the truth to his mind he turned his mount and once more began to follow his enemy.

  Chapter 30.

  The Chase.

  Do not go into the city of the sleeping giants.

  There you will find only death and pain.

  For that is the home of forgotten Gods and the Outcasts of the heavens.

  From the book of Arm-Ra.

  The Rogors of the Norgonie were saddled and armored, they carried supplies and weapons along with an angry Queen who wished to find her defiant son, and a King who longed to hold his mate in his arms once more. Arn gave orders to Kuno to keep his people safe and at the first sign of treachery he was to take the tribe out of the Fortress and then burn it to the ground. The Queen also gave a command, and that was to watch the Nomads carefully and if they harmed even one of her tribe they should kill them all and hang their bodies from the walls.

  Arn once more wore his heavy armor and his dragon’s teeth; he also took his war-ax along with several strong Kagars. The Queen wore her armor and she striped her body with green and brown markings, as did her warriors, she took many spears and around her belt hung her dagger. And when all was made ready the gates of the Fortress were opened and forty strong warriors thundered into the forests of Caltarine.

  Ral’s trail was easy to follow and it led them southward, but the Drogs that the hunters brought with them still howled and pulled at their leashes as they smelled the sent on the ground. All that day they followed the tracks down an ancient stone road that had not been traveled in a very long time, for it led to a pyramid city that no one ever returned from.

  It lay in a section of the forest that many believed was haunted, their strange creatures lived and death hung on the air. The stone city that lay in the middle of this terrible place was said to be the home of an ancient race of giants whose strength was beyond measure, and in whom the Gods had bestowed everlasting life. It was also said that creatures that were neither human nor animal inhabited it and that they lived on the flesh of the living and worshiped a God that was long dead. Over time many brave Norgonie warriors ventured towards the forgotten city and into the swamplands to the South and only one ever returned and he die shortly thereafter driven mad and babbling about monster and demons and things that did could not be described in words. But this would not turn Arn from his quest and he would pit his ax against any giant or demon that dared cross his path.

  I will have her back, he thought as he swayed in the saddle and his Rowgor fought for leadership, I must have her at my side, for the moment he forgot the white flowers and the feel of Ishea arms about him. Now all that mattered was finding his mate and killing the one who took her from him.

  Ishea also had strong feelings, but hers was not of killing or hatred, she only wished to find her son and know that he was unharmed.

  I did this to him, her thoughts tore at her heart, my hate poisoned him, but my love will cure his soul.

  A half days hard riding ahead Ral and his warriors continued onward, he told no one of his plan because he knew that many of his tribe would not have followed him to the place he wished to go, but to the young Norgonie Prince it was his only hope. Defeated in battle and knowing that his mother had betrayed him, he wanted to strike back at those who had done this to him and the only way he knew was to take the mate of his hated father.

  When he finds her gone he will blame my mother, he thought and knowing that the King cared for the half-soul more than her will drive all love from my mother’s heart. To him it was a perfect plan, for if he was killed by the Nomad his mother would never forgive the Outlander, and knowing that it was he who took his mate would cut deep into the heart of his father. Either way he would have his revenge.

  Behind him still bound and gagged Andra could do nothing, the bindings that held her arms together was strong and no matter how much she struggled she could not free herself, so knowing that escape was futile she decided to conserve her strength and wait until the time was right. She knew that they were traveling southward and that the suns were rapidly falling, but other than that she did not know. But she was sure of one thing, the air smelled of death.

  The dense forest around them grew more intense; soon the great trees began to close in about the stone road that they traveled until it was all but obscured by thick vegetation and overgrowth. From the dense greenery came wild cries of forest creatures but they sounded far different then the roaring of Sagar cats and the hooting calls of Limbswingers. These were the screams of things that shunned the light and only came out in the darkness of night. Then they would hunt and kill and fill their bellies with the flesh of whatever fell within their grasp, unclean things that made their homes in foul caverns and the crumbling remains of fallen temples. They had no names other than death and they lived only to taste the sweet nectar of warm blood.

  The twin suns had set and darkness closed in around the King and his warriors, and it was not the soft shadows of night moons and stars overhead. This was a deep, vengeful gloom as if the hand of a demon God had reached out from beyond the black gulf. Ishea ordered that torches be lit and her hunters did as she commanded, but soon even their glow was not enough to follow the tracks and she pulled up on the reins of her Rowgor.

  “We cannot go further” she called out “we must find
a place of safety”.

  But Arn acted as if he did not hear her words and shouted at his men, “leave them and follow me!”

  The Queen moved her beast and cut off the path of the King, then she spoke to him in a voice only he could hear, “you are acting like a first cycle fool not a wise leader”.

  Arn was about to call her a weak kneed camp follower but he knew she spoke the truth so he held his cutting words, “very well, we shall find a place to rest”, he said calmly, “but only for a short time”.

  Ishea nodded her head in approval and then turned to look into the dark woods around her; it was a haunted vista of tangled trees and thick foliage. As she looked to her right she saw a patch of pale moonlight falling on a cluster of rocks, there she could make out a cracked dome and fallen stones and she knew it must be the remains of some kind of structure. So with no other alternatives she pointed to the opening with her spear.

  “That way” she said.

  And with the approval of the Nomad King they led the way into the closing forest.

  Some distance ahead Ral also ordered his warriors to rest, but he had found no stone shelter or abandoned temple for comfort, rather he ordered them to seek shelter in the hollowed out trunk of a gigantic fallen tree. How long ago it had tumbled to the earth no one could tell but the cycle’s sense that time had eaten away at the heart of the wooden giant, and left a cavern like opening that was big enough to hold not only the Norgonie but their Rowgors as well. Now they sat around small fires and ate from supply packs and drank inferior Po, but they were still alive and that was all that mattered.

  “Eat!” Ral said as he held out a piece of dried Rimar meat to his captive.

  Andra had been freed of her bonds but her writs were still tied together and there was a chain about her neck, it was humiliating for the Selcarie girl for it was the same leash that they use to restrain the Drogs. She was hungry but she was not going to give any satisfaction to the young warrior, “no thanks, I’m not hungry,” she said coldly.

  Of course Ral knew she was lying but he saw no need of pressing the matter further so he set the bit of meat on a rock near the Half-Soul and took a sip of Po from a metal canteen. When he had slaked his thirst he held out the container to the girl.

  “Drink?” he asked.

  The long and unpleasant ride had parched her throat so the Off-World girl took him up on his offer; she took several long gulps of the sour wine then handed the canteen back to the young warrior. “It’s not very good Po” she said bluntly.

  To this Ral nodded his head, “yes it is not, but then you are not one of the Chosen so any wine would suit you”, she should be content with whatever I give her.

  A small smile crossed the lips of the Selcarie female, “I may not be one of the Chosen but I have tasted far better wine, and with much better company”.

  For a moment Rals eyes flashed and he looked like he was about to strike the girl, then he caught himself, she is baiting you like a Drog to a Sagar, he thought, “you seem brave for a bed warmer to a false King”.

  Now it was Andra’s time to hold her anger, so she leaned back against the inside of the tree trunk and looked the young warrior in the eyes, “I am lieutenant, Andra Oseira first infantry division Omega 5. I have fought in the battle of Cotarus seven and planned the destruction of the army of the Talsonar, I am a warrior of the Almadra and mate to their King, to the Outlanders I am known as Moonbud the flower that kills, and someday I will kill you!”

  The young warrior stared into the face of the girl for a time then smiled at her, “the Moonbud blooms at night, but you have lost your thorns”. And he yanked on the end of her chain and she was pulled to the ground. She lay there for a moment or two then lifted herself up, but when she looked around Ral was gone and in his place she saw two Norgonie warriors watching her. So with no way of escaping she picked up the bit of Dried Rimar that was offered to her before and put it into her mouth remembering the words of her old training Sargent.

  “Eat when you can, it may be your last”.

  And as the taste of Rimar filled her mouth she looked up at the night sky and through a small crack in the canopy she could just make out the small moon that bore her name.

  I may not have my weapons, she thought, but I still have my thorns.

  To the North the warriors of the Almadra and Norgonie were also eating, but they kept their weapons close at hand and their eyes constantly watched the darkness beyond the campfire in the event they were set upon by demons. They ate dried Rimar and cold Kasha bread but the Po was well-aged for the Queen would drink no other, and when they were done the Nomads chewed Grana for they would need its strength in the time ahead. The Norgonie did not eat the green crystal for there were plenty of Troca crawling in the broken stones to fill their needs.

  They made camp in the ruins of an ancient temple but to what God or Gods they could not tell for there were no statues or alter stone. And the inscriptions on the walls about them were far to worn to read and even if they were not they would not be able to decipher their meaning. The roof of the structure had collapsed long ago and two of its three walls were crumbling. In the center of the complex there stood a twisted mass of metal that in some ways resembled the pumping machines of the Norgonie. But this one had no piping and only jagged bits of iron at its top, still it would give them some protection from whatever creatures might come out of the darkness.

  Arn and Ishea sat alone as they ate and drank and when they had finished they listened to the wild cries form the woodland around them and gripped their weapons tightly. Through the opening in the forest canopy the King could see the small bluish moon that bore the name of his mate.

  “Moonbud”, he said softly then looked at the woman whose face glowed in the light of their fire.

  “What did you say?” asked the Queen for the howling from the darkness had drowned out his words.

  The King could see the camouflage markings and the glowing emerald eyes that had once captured his mind, but as he looked at her now all he could see was the face of the woman he loved. “It was nothing” he said quickly, then poked at the campfire with the tip of his ax.

  They sat there for a time then the Queen spoke, “will you kill your son?” she asked.

  It was something that Arn did not want to think about so he asked her a question in return, “why did you not send word to me that you had born a child?”

  “Would it have mattered?” she said coldly, “you were far away after the Burning Time and my mother did not renew so it was my duty to become Queen and I knew you would not become my consort”.

  The King understood her words, she was right; I could not have forsaken my people to sit at her side. Again he poked at the fire with his ax, “you have trained our son well, he is a strong warrior”.

  “Like his father”, said the Queen as she took a sip of her Po.

  Arn thought for a moment then spoke, “I wanted to tell you something” he said softly, “I want to tell you---”.

  Suddenly a great roar sounded from the Greenwood and the two monarchs jumped to their feet and braced themselves for whatever might come. Around them the warriors of the Almadra and the Norgonie stood shoulder to shoulder as all hostilities vanished in the face of a common danger. Then another roar broke the night air along with the braking of tree branches and the sound of giant feet striking the ground.

  Arn and Ishea stood back to back waiting for an enemy to show its face, but they were not prepared for what came lumbering out of the darkness. In the light from their fire they saw a thing that could only live in nightmares.

  In form it resembled the apelike Galu of the Yug jungles but this beast was three times the height of a tall Nomad and its great arms hung almost to the ground. Its head was huge with a great mouth filled with long dagger like teeth, its eyes were small for it was not use to the light and it had no nose to speak of. Its upper body was covered by thick bony plating and what was not armored was rippling with muscles, there were two lar
ge ears on the sides of its misshapen head and it relied on them for finding prey in the darkness.

  It stood for a moment looking down on the humans then with a pounding of its chest and another ear splitting roar it bounded over the broken wall and into battle. Any other soldier of the Outer Rim would have thrown down their weapon and ran fleeing in terror but the warriors of the Almadra and Norgonie were bred for combat and screaming out the war cries of their different tribes they flung themselves at their bestial enemy.

  Immediately the Norgonie drew back their arms and threw their Kagars at the monster, their aim was true but the thick chest plating on the creature caused their weapons to bounce off harmlessly. And when it came close enough for the Nomads to use their axes they could only cut into the flesh on the legs of the beast, and although it roared in pain and blood began to flow it only seemed to enrage the monster further.

  Now it struck back with a vengeance, first it seized up one of the Nomads in its giant hand and lifting it to its mouth it bit off the head of the Outlander. And with another roar it flung the lifeless body high into the air and it vanished in the darkness.

  Arn watched as the monster grip one of the Norgonie and again began to lift it to its slobbering mouth, but as it was about to bite the Forest-dweller in two Ishea threw her spear and it sunk deep into the upper plating of the beast. With another great roar it dropped the warrior and began to claw at the shaft protruding from its mouth, this gave time for the King to act.

  “You will know when the time is right”, he shouted to the Queen beside him, then holding his ax in one hand he quickly climbed the metal structure in the center of the broken dome, now high above the monster he looked down on Ishea and waited.

  The monster pulled the Kagar from its bloody mouth then it continued to roar and strike out at the warriors. But they managed to hold the beast at bay but taking up burning branches from their fires and waving them about and shouting at the great beast, now the Queen took up a firebrand and stood with the others.