Osh still walked in the universe of his mind, and there he was content and all things seemed real to him, he had moved from one time to another as easily as a Nomad moves over the Outlands. He had been a young programmer learning the intricate details of the complex workings of the powerful Trolacian computers. He saw all his life moving before his eyes and he saw what he had become, he spoke to old friends long dead and remembered places that he had traveled many cycles ago. Time to him did not matter now, he was a being of the stars and they welcomed him.
He returned to Gorn and he stood looking down on the green grass of the Sirolian Plains and he felt the warm summer wind on his face.
It is a good place to end my life he thought. And he was about to let his body lift into the air and vanish into the heavens when he suddenly saw a woman approaching him. Who is this coming near? He asked himself.
As the being drew closer he saw that the female bore the face of the woman he had met before in his dreams and he knew that it was the Guardian come to speak to him once again. He watched as she walked up to him and stood looking into his eyes.
“Your time has not come” she said smiling, “you have not yet saved my world”.
“I am an old man” he said, “and I am tired”.
The woman held out her hand to him and he took it in his, “You will find the strength to save those you love”.
The old man felt warmth running through his hand and into his arm, it traveled upward until it entered his body and suddenly he was filled with a power that he had not felt before. And as he looked into the eyes of the woman she leaned close to his face and whispered to him.
“Wake and save me”.
Osh opened his eyes.
He lay there for a moment trying to understand where he was, and after a time his memory returned to him and he realized what had happened and what must be done. He slowly rose up from his bed wearing his simple robe and looked around the chamber then gathering up his strength he stood up and felt the cold stone floor under his naked feet.
He was not sure how long he had been unconscious but he was sure it must have been some time. He felt a great thirst but he did not feel weak for unknown to him the Grana that had been given to him by the monks while he slept had sustained his body. He moved slowly to a table near him and found a silver goblet sitting there and to his relief it contained just enough Po to quench his thirst. It had been resting for some time and had lost its entire aroma and become very sour but it was still the best thing that the old man had ever drunk. Now that he felt better he slowly moved to the chamber door and tried the handle and to his surprise it was unlocked. He carefully opened it and was about to walk from the room when something caught his eye for there laying half hidden by a small mound of ancient scrolls lay the medallion that once hung from the neck of Vitranius. And looking at it his mind told him that this might prove to be something of consequence so he picked it up and placed it around his neck. And checking to see that no guards were outside his door the old man left his prison chamber and walked into freedom. But there was one thing that troubled his mind.
Why did his jaw ache so?
Near the gates of the Fortress an army gathered that even the oldest of the Elders had never seen before. Outlanders and Norgonie stood side by side for now they were brothers and sisters against a common foe.
The Nomads wore their heavy battle armor; this gave much more protection than the daily used plating that they wore in camp. They placed thick shielding on their Whiptails that would protect the vulnerable area between the front limbs and hindquarters. They also fitted a steel tip on the long killing claws of their mounts; this would give them greater penetration in battle. They sharpened their war-axes and daggers and sang ancient battle songs to give them courage, for they knew that many would not be returning to camp. And lastly they made sure that around their neck hung the golden Journey-Nail, for if they fell in battle it would be used to hold their weapons as they entered the Golden Hall of Isarie.
The Norgonie did not wear armor save for bits of metal sewn into battle harnesses; they relied on quickness and fighting skill to keep them from harm. They did however carry their best Kagars and daggers and painted their bodies green and brown to blend into their environment. As for the huge Rowgors, they placed chain mail blankets over their bodies and added thick steel plating to their sides. Each of the great beasts could carry six warriors and extra weapons and with those warriors raced the vicious Drogs. They also wore chain mail on their backs and flexible plating around their thick necks, they knew that soon they would be tearing into flesh and bone and so they howled and pulled at the leashes like demons from the Pit.
Standing atop a high platform and at the head of their armies stood Arn and Ishea for they would be first to face danger as all good King and Queens did. They each wore their best and each held their heads high and showed no fear on their faces for being leaders of their tribes they needed to be strong.
Arn wore the ancient fighting armor that had served him so well in the war against the Talsonar, it was black in color and the great horned helmet gave him the appearance of the fearsome Sand Dragon. And so he and his mate were given the name Moric Kan, the Twin Dragons, but now he stood alone for Andra was not by his side as she pledged.
She broke her promise to me he told himself, then he remembered the night he lay in the arms of Ishea, and I have broken my vow to her.
Some men of the Outer Rim might have told themselves that one broken promise erases another, but it was not so with the Nomad King, to him a vow was unbreakable and thinking that he should not be held responsible to one who has lied to him was unacceptable.
I must pay a price he thought then he looked over at the Norgonie Queen, she wore her finest fighting harness, about her neck hung a necklace of the finest Sagar cat’s teeth and her long hair was braided with gold and silver banding. Her strong body was crisscrossed with green and brown stripping and around her slim waist was a wide Rimar hide belt with a long ivory dagger hanging from the left side. Her green eyes flashed in the sunlight and seemed to glow with an inner fire and in spite of all his promises he longed to hold her just one more time.
A price to pay, he told himself again.
Ishea was eager for the battle ahead, she had stood before many enemies and defeated them all but she had never fought a God. Now the thought of standing before such power and shouting out her battle cry made her blood hot and her heart pound. She gripped her Kagar tightly and looked out over the warriors before her. But as she did a cold dagger cut into her heart for Ral would not be at the head of the warriors for he was still prisoner in the holding cells of the fortress.
He has broken our laws and he must pay a price. And being the Queen she would make sure that price was paid, but she was also a mother and no matter how much power she wielded she still longed to have her son at her side. She looked over at her former mate and seeing him standing so proud and strong she wished that she could command his heart like he commanded hers.
The air was filled with a blaring of signal horns and the pounding of war drums and the warriors turned to look at their King and Queen. As the noise faded Ishea moved forward and spoke to her people.
“We have fought many battles and won many victories” she said in a loud clear voice, “and always you have stood beside your queen!” And hearing this the Norgonie warriors let out a loud cry and waved their spears in the air, and when the cheering faded the Queen spoke again. “Now I ask you to stand with me once more, this time not against an enemy of flesh and bone but against a steel God that seeks to destroy us. Now I say this, be it God or man we will not run, we will stand and fight and all shall know that the Norgonie are not cowards and that even the Gods should fear us!”
And again there was a great cheer from the Forest-dwellers and it continued till the King of the Almadra walked forward. Arn waited for the shouting to die and then he also spoke to his people.
“All the Outlands know the strength of the A
lmadra for we defeated the Talsonar and all foes that dare challenge us in battle” and like the Norgonie the Nomads let out a great shout that shook the air. “We are strong yes, but now we will not stand alone for we must fight beside our brothers and sisters of the forest and with them we are even stronger, we worship different Gods and travel different lands but we will stand as one before the demon that draws near.” And again there was a cheering from the warriors but this time both Nomad and Norgonie cried out together. “Now stand together as one, stand together and let all creature be they demon or Gods know that we are protectors, guardians, warriors and that we will not fall!”
And now the Fortress erupted in a roar that shook the very stones of that ancient structure for Nomad and Norgonie now stood together and not even the Fires of Doom would stop them.
Chapter 45.
The Mother of Voices.
Eurdor-Can, is the Mother of all Voices for her body is strong and fires spews from her mouth. She looks to the South and her gaze is never ending and when she speaks all who stand before her have perished for her voice is beyond thunder.
From the Book of Arm-Ra.
The morning suns were just beginning their journey across the sky and along with them the day moons watched as the strongest warriors of the Outlanders and the Norgonie rode out from the Great Fortress. They numbered half a hundred for no more would be needed to make Eurdor-Can speak. The rest they left behind to prepare for a last stand should the power of the Metal God prove too much for those who rode out to meet him.
Whiptails and Rowgors passed through the entrance gate. And they did so without the fanfare and shouting that might have occurred if not for the absence of the Elders and the children of both tribes for they were now deep in the forest and safe from the battle that was to come. The huge doors had to be opened by the power of four strong Rowgors for the steam engines no longer worked for all the Eul had been consumed and no more were forthcoming.
But in spite of all this Arn and Ishea rode proudly at the head of their warriors as the war drums sounded and the signal horns blew loudly. And along with those sounds the air was filled with ancient battle songs and each tribe sang along with their brothers and sisters for they were now one great force. The banners of the Almadra flew beside the flags of the Norgonie and with them were the smaller standards of the different clans within those tribes. Now all differences were forgotten and all genders too for the women rode side by side with the men and would fight with the ferocity of a Sagar cat when needed.
Valen the Caladon Outcast rode with the tribe of the Almadra and although he was not one of them he would fight alongside them and die if need be. And perhaps the God would grant him a place in the Golden Hall of Isarie and he would not have to wander through the Afterlife alone.
The Honnargar were not to be seen for they would wait until the leader called them and then they would take to the air. Until then they would wait in the forest arena and listen to the waking cries of Sagar Cats.
But there was one thing that was out of place in the great army and that was the huge wagon that was pulled by two strong Rowgors. It resembled the Karracks of the Outlanders but it was three times the size of the largest and its huge wheels were twice as thick. Its sides were made of steel and its contents could not be seen but it must be of great value for a company of Norgonie guarded it and they challenged all that came near.
And as the last of the warriors left the Fortress the King remembered other battles and those that stood beside him.
Seeda, I wish I could see you now.
Arn was thinking of his lost sister and in his minds-eye he could see her proudly riding her strong Whiptail and eager to fight for her people.
You sit beside Isarie now and her Golden Hall rings with your laughter. Then his thoughts turned to his fallen brother.
Agart, you were my conscience and I long to hear your wise words, they were both gone now and without Andra at his side he felt very alone. He turn to look back at the Great Fortress as the forest consumed them and it took all his strength not to turn his Whiptail and return to his tent and the woman waiting for him there.
Ishea was also thinking of someone left behind for her son had broken the law,
It is my fault that he is not beside me she thought, I am his mother and he is a shadow of my heart.
The past cycles that she had watched him grow into a strong warrior came flooding back to her now, and with them she heard the angry words that she had spoken to him of his father and how he had betrayed their love.
If only I could turn back time? But she knew that such things could not be done and she was left without her son next to her and only a lost love to fight beside, but again she made a vow to Arm-Ra.
If I am to die let me die fighting beside him. She knew it was a prayer unworthy of her for she was the Queen of the Norgonie and should have only been thinking of victory, so she drove all thoughts of death from her mind and let the blood fire of war fill her instead.
Valen was also thinking of his past life and although he was an Outcast he did not regret his actions for he remained true to his heart and would do so till the end. Still it was a hard thing to be without a tribe.
I have made a vow to destroy the monster that destroyed my people, he told himself, he just hoped that he would live long enough to fulfill the pledge.
As the combined army moved through the portal the blind brother of the King and the woman he loved stood on the fortress wall. Anais understood that he might not see his brother again so he offered a prayer on his behalf.
“May the God watch over you and keep you from harm”. He said softly
For anyone who had known the Prince when he ruled so ruthlessly over his people it would have sounded like only empty words, but the blind man meant every word. Next to him stood Kela and she also said a prayer, but she did not speak it out loud and what she said we could not say. But her eyes followed the warriors like a Sundropper follows its prey.
When the great Fortress was far behind them the warriors ceased their singing and rode in silence for it was a wise man that did not let the enemy hear him coming. Even the Drogs of the Norgonie did not howl for they had been trained to hold their barking when commanded too. Now the only sounds were the wailing of forest birds and the creatures that called the green wood’s their home.
All the morning they traveled following ancient trails and stone landmarks that had been placed there by Norgonie long dead. The thick woods soon thinned and the canopy of leaves opened to a stormy sky and even a first cycle child could see that rain was coming and soon the sky would rumble with the sound of lightning and thunder. A short time later Arn with Ishea rode into an open land, it was without vegetation and only rock and the remains of forgotten war machines dotted the expanse. This was the Eye of Death, a place where only the spirits of the dead lived, now and then one could see a Shellback or Doffbird foraging for bits of food but there was little else in the way of animals.
The King had seen land like this before, barren, empty but he did not fear them. Deep within he could almost hear the battle cries of warriors long dead and there was a forgotten smell of blood on the air.
Many have died here he thought, and again he remembered the countless wars he had fought, the times when the fighting madness was upon him and he let himself be consumed by the blood lust, and knowing that he was once more heading into danger only made his heart beat faster.
Some distance ahead of the Nomads and on course to meet them the risen warship of the Trajion battle fleet destroyed everything in its path, ancient temples that once echoed to the prayers of forgotten people crumbled before the metal monster. Fortifications that had stood for ages were torn apart and there remains scattered to the winds, great trees who’s branches reached to the heavens now lay crushed upon the ground, and no living creature could stand before the oncoming death.
“On course and maintaining speed” reported the Taskrobot.
The seated God did not speak f
or he was thinking of his revenge and how sweet it would taste, then he stopped himself for he could no longer remember what food tasted like. He did faintly remember that he put it into his mouth but that seemed very odd to him now for why would he waste time on such a silly thing when he could have nourishment pumped directly into his absorbing bladder?
Why would I have done such a thing? He mused, and then he forgot that matter and concentrated on the conflict ahead. But as he did he suddenly found his mind was far away and he no longer sat on his throne but rode on the back of an Outlanders Whiptail.
Arn suddenly felt his body floating in the air then found himself sitting in a dim chamber and looking down at steel hands that were not his.
“Artock!” He cursed.
And again as quickly as it had taken him he found himself on the back of his Whiptail once more. For a moment or two his head was spinning like a leaf in a windstorm and he rocked in his saddle.
“Are you hurt?” called out Ishea as she saw her former mate holding his helmeted head.
“No, I am well” the King replied as the spinning left him, and in a moment more he was riding as well as before, but still the image haunted him.
A demon must be in my shadow but he did not know a spell that could banish such a thing so he let it go.
The Norgonie Queen had never seen weakness in the Nomad before but she saw that it was just a passing thing and concentrated on the task ahead.
Valen also saw the King sway in his saddle but it was not his place to question his leader so he kept his mouth shut and concerned himself on the battle ahead. He was given new armor but it did not bear the symbols of the Almadra for he was not of that tribe. He had lost his Tooth long ago but the Ironworkers had forged him a new one. And although there was no time to complete the ceremony that should have been done when a warrior is given his ax he still considered it his and would wield it with all the strength in his arm.
The Fallen God Page 66