The Fallen God

by Gary Mark Lee

  “Many Outlander and Norgonie have been lost” he spoke in words loud enough for all to hear, “and the Angel of Death still hovers over this place, will killing the Sandjar bring back your Queen or the speaker of the Gods?” And saying this he heard a great grumbling from the Forest-dwellers for they did not want their slaves freed. “You are not followers of Isarie but her words are still true, no one shall make a slave of another!” and hearing that they should listen to the demands of a false God made the Norgonie shout out in rage.

  “We will not bend our knees to Isarie”.

  “Arm-Ra is the only true God”.

  “You are not a speaker of truth”.

  More heated words were said and soon the Nomads and people of the forest were shouting insults to each other and holding weapons at the ready for they had forgotten that only a day before they had stood together as one. It was then that Anais called out to them.

  “My brother is a strong warrior and the Angel of Death knows his face. But when war is done and your children call out to you to hold them will you say that you cannot stand without the help of slaves?” he waited for a moment to let his words take hold. “Will you say that the Norgonie cannot live without the strength of the Sandjar, will you say that slaves can do a thing that you cannot?”

  There was still grumbling in the dome but the Forest-dwellers did not shout, and seeing that his words were taking hold he continued to speak. “Ishea is dead and you have lost a strong Queen, let it be remembered in the cycles ahead that the Norgonie were a strong people and that they freed the slaves to show that they could stand on their own!”

  A silence hung in the dome as the warriors talked amongst themselves; it was then that Endo began to speak.

  “Many of you would say that a creature like me cannot speak” and hearing the young Sandjar addressing them in their language made the Forest-dwellers and Nomads stop their talking and look at the green skinned boy. “My father told me that all creatures can learn and so he taught me many things, I was once a Scavenger but I changed, and now I have taught those that were once your slaves and I say this. If you try to make them slaves again they will die and your blood will mix with theirs”.

  There was a moment when the tide could have gone both way and knowing this the King made himself ready for a fight for although the Sandjar was not his kind he was still a member of the tribe and therefore he would protect him like he would anyone else.

  Now we cannot say for certain why they did not go to war then and there, perhaps they have had enough bloodshed for a while? Or maybe they did not want to mare the time of their Queens passing with more hatred? Or it just might be that the will of the King was strong enough to cool their anger for Arn heart was heavy with sadness for the loss of Ishea. But for whatever reason the Norgonie did not call out for war and the slaves were freed.

  As the events were unfolding in the Great Dome the tent of the Holy Mother was undergoing a ritual of its own. With the death of her son the veil of darkness lifted from Egmars mind and she remembered all that she had done, the blasphemies, degradations and depravities came flooding back into her mind and she wept and kneeled before the golden statue of Isarie and prayed for forgiveness. Around her the Handmaidens sang ancient songs of the Goddess and lifted sweet smelling incense as they were taught to do. But now they did it out of love for their mistress for they saw that their Holy Mother was once more herself and the demon that had possessed her was gone.

  They spent the day removing all remnants of the time before, the sacred statues were made clean with fire and water and the Holy Book of Isarie was placed once more upon its pedestal. They threw out the trappings of wealth and comfort and ate only stale Kasha bread and drank only bitter water and many of them beat themselves with “Anarish Noc-Ator”, the tail of the dragon as a punishment for being seduced by the comforts of the outside world.

  But all this could not bring contentment to the mind of Egmar for she could not drive out the horrible things that she had done.

  I am not worthy of the love of the goddess her thoughts cut her like a knife, I have broken to many laws to be forgiven, and I will not see the face of Isarie.

  And again she wept and prayed for mercy for her retched soul.

  Ral also prayed but it was not for himself, he prayed for his mother. The young warrior was alone in the tower chamber of the Queen for he did not want to show his grief to the tribe, he stood at the foot of bed bathed in the soft glow of torches and looked down on the woman who gave him life.

  Ishea’s body was washed and dressed in the trappings that she would wear in the Afterlife. She wore the fighting harness of a warrior made from the hide of a Sagar cat that she had killed. Her hair was braided with ivory and gold beads and from her ears hung silver rings, around her neck lay a necklace of the finest Sagar teeth and her arms were circled with bracelets of intricately woven gold and silver. Her limbs and body were colored with the green and brown markings that all Norgonie wore and her around her waist was a wide belt holding a long dagger. In her right hand she held a Kagar whose tip was made of the sharpest Itarian steel in case she had to fight her enemies in the world beyond.

  As the young Prince gazed at his mother a flood of images raced before his inner eye, his youth as a young warrior learning how to fight and how to survive the dangers of the forest, then standing beside his mother as they battled the Galu and other enemies that had come into their lands. The feasting with his tribe and his passage into manhood and through all this his mother had been at his side. And seeing this he smiled with contentment for that time had been the best and he would always remember who had loved him. And once more the hatred for his father began to grow within him and he longed to fight him again and drive his Kagar deep into his heart. It was true that the King spared his life when they fought outside the Fortress and again in the darkness of the Forbidden City. But he drove those images away from him and returned to the pain that had for so many years been his only comfort.

  He left me behind he raged in his mind; I was left with only my mother to raise me.

  But then a strange thing happened for he realized that although he was raised by only one he did not have half a life. I am a strong warrior he thought and I owe this to my mother for she was both father and mother to me.

  Killing the King would not bring back Ishea and knowing that she had forgiven his father for the injustices that was done to her and realizing that she would want him to do the same he finally let go of his rage. And moving next to his mother he reached out and touched her cheek and spoke in a soft voice.

  “Through all the days of my life you will be with me”.

  And saying this he bent down and put his head upon his mother’s breast and for the first time in his bitter life he wept tears of sorrow.

  When Endo was certain that his people would not be harmed he began his search for his father, at first he thought he was safe with the Elders and the Children deep in the forest but when they returned the old man was not among them. Then he thought that he had been hiding somewhere in the Fortress for he knew that the Callaxion was practiced at staying out of harm’s way but that also proved futile. His thoughts turned dark and perhaps he had been killed in the battle with the machine but his body was not with the dead.

  Now all seemed lost and with no other place to search he returned to his for they now gathered together near the entrance to the underground mines. The King commanded that they should be given food and drink and whatever else they needed and so it was done. Now as they huddled under the star speckled sky Endo sat near Rawna and they both looked up at the moons. The Sandjar had never seen the night sky and many of the young were freighted but the Elders held them tight and calmed them with soothing sounds and the touch of warm hands.

  Rawna was among those that feared the open sky and she drew near her mate and seeing that she was not content Endo put his arm around her.

  “There is nothing to fear now” he said softly, “you are free”.

>   The green skinned girl cocked her head to one side and smiled, “yes, freedom” she said, “freedom together”.

  Endo had fulfilled his promise and set his people free, but without the wisdom of his father he was not sure if freedom would prove a good thing or a curse.

  Andra had also searched for her old companion but she did it alone for Arn was called upon to lead both tribes and so he was in their tent very little. The Handmaidens cared for the child while the Kings mate looked for the old man but no matter how hard they tried they could not make the infant eat anything but Grana and drink only water. Still they did as they were commanded and the child was kept safe.

  Andra also found nothing of Osh; she did hear rumors that he had been taken to the temple of Arm-Ra. But now that it was destroyed and seeing that nothing could break the seals of the Overlord weapon that saved them all she reluctantly resigned herself to never seeing the kind face of the Old man.

  For three days and three nights the Nomads and the Norgonie labored together in a clearing near the Fortress to build a mound of wood as high as ten tall men. And as Sunbirth rose on the forth day the twin suns looked down upon a ritual that had not taken place in a great many cycles for this day the Queen of the Norgonie would rise up to the heavens.

  A great pyre of wood was built using the strongest of trees for only the oldest of the forest giants would be worthily of the last resting-place of Ishea. A wooden staircase was constructed on one side of the structure so that the body of the Queen could be carried up and placed upon the upper most level. There a platform was constructed with an ivory altar made from the tucks of Rowgors and inlayed with silver, it was surrounded by offerings of gold, silver, Rimar horn, Sagar teeth and jewels. There were also great bowls of fruit and many barrels of well-aged Po, weapons of the finest Itarian steel. Heaps of armor and fine cloth, richly made chests of ornately carved wood, inlayed goblets, rugs, brightly decorated pottery and all manors of precious things. A vast treasure worthy of any great ruler and it was all to be burned.

  At the base of the pyre stood the warriors of both tribes, once again they wore their best armor and held weapons in their right hand and although it was not dark they held burning torches in their left. And standing with them was the King and next to him was the woman called Moonbud. They both wore the ancient armor that had served them so well and they both carried their axes for this was a ritual of a warrior Queen.

  The Norgonie were not followers of Isarie so there would be no prayers spoken by the Holy Mother but out of respect she and her Handmaidens stood solemnly and with them were a contingent of Thungodra. The servants of the Goddess smeared their naked bodies with charcoal and holding smoking braziers of sweet smelling incense they lifted them up and down as they were trained to do. Egmar wore a red robe embroidered with the mystic symbols of Arm-Ra that had been made by the Norgonie and in her hand she held a staff that was topped with a large crystal set with Sagar teeth. And even though she knew that Ormandis was not the Holy Man he appeared to be she held her tongue and let the dead lie quite. And it was easy to see that she had done the right thing for when Vitranious stood upon the temple and screamed to the heavens in his madness to bring an ending the Forest-dwellers thought that he was calling down the wrath of Arm-Ra on their enemy. And when the Overlord machine destroyed the metal monster the warriors said that it was the power of the High Priest that had saved them, for how could they know that it was the work of the old Callaxion.

  Now the drums began to beat and there was a blaring of signal horns for moving out of the Fortress and towards them was a line of tall Norgonie warriors baring Ishea’s body. They carried their Queen on a litter made from the leg bones of Rowgors and leading them was her son. Ral had covered his naked body in the blood of a Sagar cat for it was their custom; he moved slowly and held his head high. In his hand he held his Kagar and at his waist was a strip of Rimar hide holding a long dagger. Behind the litter were a dozen or more warriors holding the mummified heads of the strongest enemies that Ishea had slain in battle, they would be placed at her feet and then burned with her so that the Gods could see that a mighty warrior was coming into their domain.

  The procession continued forward until it reached the tower of wood then as it passed by the King he moved to the side of his son and they both began the climb upwards. It the High Priest had not been killed he would have stood beside Ral but having no other it was left to the Outlander to take his place.

  As the drums continued to beat the Norgonie watched their Queen being laid upon the altar at the top of the pyre. Then they placed the severed heads at her feet and when all was made ready the warriors departed leaving only the King and the young Prince. They stood there for a moment not saying a word then Arn turned to look at the son he had abandoned.

  “I have made many mistakes in my life” he said softly, “but none as great as the one that parted me from you”.

  There were many feelings churning inside the heart of Ral, anger, remorse, sadness, but one seemed to have left him, hatred had vanished.

  “We both loved my mother” the young warrior replied, “perhaps someday I will feel the same for you”.

  And without saying anything more Ral took one more look at the fallen Queen and the mother that gave him live and then he turned and left her side. The King stood there for a moment then reached into his belt and took out something in his fist and moving to the altar he placed it into the left hand of his lost love.

  A large pink sea shell.

  Arn had returned to the pool of the Death Shadow flowers and dove into the crystal waters and when he came up he had the precious shell in his hand. Now he would return it to its rightful owner and when she looked at it in the Afterlife she would know that his love had been true.

  “I loved you once” he said softly, “and you will always have a place in my heart”. Those words were the ones that he was going to say before they were attacked by the ape monster in the forest. They were spoken to late but they were said just the same

  And with nothing more to be said the King turned and made the long trek down the stairs and away from the tower and stood once more beside his mate.

  If this had been the funeral of a high official or the Emperor of one of the Outer Rim planets there would have been an endless procession of articulate speakers to tell of the accomplishments and many great deeds that had been done by the deceased. They would have talked and talked and talked saying how much that person would be missed and how empty their lives were now. But it was not the case with the Norgonie for everyone knew what the Queen had done and how her strength and wisdom had kept them safe and for the rest of their lives they would never forget her. So there was no need for flowered words and with a nod from the head of the King the warriors began to move passed the great tower. And as they did they tossed their burning torches high into the air and they landed upon the wood and it began to burn. Soon a great pillar of fire and smoke began to rise into the heavens making a light that could be seen by any God that looked down upon the land of Gorn.

  And so passed Ishea, ruler of the Caltarine forests, feared warrior and slayer of her enemies, the mate to Arn the King of the Almadra. The mother of Ral the greatest of the Forest-dwellers, A fearless hunter of Sagar Cats and destroyer of demons, the woman who stood before the fallen God Atos and saw him vanquished, and most of all a strong Queen of the Norgonie.

  Chapter 49.

  The Vow.

  A vow cannot be broken for it is a pledge of the soul.

  A warrior can live without an arm or a leg.

  But they cannot live without a soul.

  Law of the Outlanders.

  The Sandjar did not include themselves in the ritual of the Norgonie Queen for although they were no longer slaves they did not hold any love in their hearts for their enslaves. Now they rested together near what was once the holy pyramid and had their fill of food and drink, and many said that it was indeed freedom and that their Coraw had led them well. And because
they had spent their lives in the dim world of the underground many of them turned away from the sun and hid themselves in the broken rock and under canopies that the Nomads had provided for them.

  Endo and Rawna sat together and to look at them you would have said they were content, but the young boy was not for he still thought about his lost father.

  “He taught me all that I know,” he said looking into the eyes of his mate, “the days ahead will be empty without him”.

  And then a strange feeling began to stir within him and thinking hard upon it he suddenly realized his acute sense of smell was calling to him again, and like before he was driven to stand up and follow the beckoning sent. Rawna did not understand but she did not wish to be alone so she walked by his side as they left the other Sandjars behind.

  They moved slowly around the huge base of the fallen structure avoiding loose stones and staying out of the sunlight when possible. And as sent became stronger in the keen nose of Endo he realized just what was pulling him.

  His father.

  In the past he had paid little attention to the odors that emanated from the Old man but now that he was gone it all came flooding back to him in a multitude of olfactory images. Parchment and ink, sweat and earth, well-aged Po and perfectly spiced Hagar soup, but most of all was love.

  It is a factor that cannot be measured or cataloged but it is there all the same. So now Endo was pulled around to an open space on the back side of the great weapon and then he stopped and found himself standing by a strangely marked section that seemed to be some sort of portal. It bore no lock or handle and would have been impossible to open because it was made of thick metal even harder than Itarian steel. But for all its perfection it could not hold back the tracking ability of a Sandjar.