by J. Thorn
The old man shook his head. He pulled himself into a ball and pushed away from the fire and the Serpent King, his eyes darting from the fire to the tent flap.
“It means she figured you out,” the Serpent King said. “That whiny bitch gave Machek the power to remove your tendrils of influence. She showed him the origins of his obligation, and the way to freedom.”
“It doesn’t mean he can break free.”
“True, it does not. But it will not take much determination for the lord major of the Jaguar Knights to gather the strength to do so.”
“I can go back to him. I can convince him to stay the course.” The Soothsayer’s voice quickened, and his enunciation faltered.
“You’ll do nothing of the sort. You cost me more than I am willing to lose at this stage of the war.”
“But I can help you. I have tools of persuasion I can use on Machek. He will come back to us, I promise.”
The Serpent King did not respond. He sat across from the Soothsayer, smoking his pipe and listening to the old man weep. The suffering of others aroused him, and he intended to spend time with Ri and Gishwan as soon as he finished with the old man.
He took a leather pouch from under his robe, opening it and pouring its contents out. The red powder pulsed in his hand. The Soothsayer sat and stared across the fire, still massaging his burnt arm. The Serpent King raised the powder in the air until his hand was in front of his mouth.
“May the blood of the eagle turn your heart to stone, and may you succumb to Nede, the Sign of the Serpent.”
He blew the red dust from his hand into the fire. A cloud blossomed in the tent and raced for the round opening at the top. When the air inside cleared, the Serpent King sat alone.
The Reckoning
By J. Thorn
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About the Author
Other Works
The Reckoning, Burden of Conquest Book II
Second Edition
Copyright © 2009 by J. Thorn
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
Cover Illustration by Kate Sterling
Edited by Talia Leduc
For more information:
http://www.jthorn.net
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For those that dream.
The Reckoning
Table of Contents
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
Chapter 61
Chapter 62
Chapter 63
Chapter 64
Chapter 65
Chapter 66
Chapter 67
Chapter 68
Chapter 69
Chapter 70
Chapter 71
Chapter 72
Chapter 73
Chapter 74
Chapter 75
Chapter 76
About the Author
Other Works
Chapter 44
The old man’s hut smelled of urine, feces, and death. His fire licked the edges of the stones surrounding the pit. Bones, teeth, and animal skulls spun in lazy circles from the sinew tying them to the support poles.
He brought a mug of warm liquid to the Serpent King from a dark corner. The Serpent King looked into the mug, took a sip, and spit out the tip of a human finger.
He removed his pipe from a satchel tied to his robe. Carved from ivory tusk, it sent a pungent aroma into the air when filled with burning leaf. He took a pouch of herb from the Soothsayer’s crippled hands and packed it into the pipe, and the old man motioned for him to light it, which he did.
“You cannot buy my mercy with hallucinogens.”
“Can’t an old man welcome a guest into his home?” said the Soothsayer. He hobbled to another dark corner to gather a piece of dried meat to offer to the Serpent King. Green mold crawled across the surface, and it smelled of sickness.
“Get that spoiled trash out of my face. We have business to address, and time is short.”
The Soothsayer sat down on his mat, facing the Serpent King through the struggling fire. “She has gotten an audience with Machek.”
“Who?” The Serpent King grabbed the old man by the wrist, holding his arm over the fire. The Soothsayer struggled to free himself while the hairs on his arm shriveled and smoked. The herb in the Serpent King’s pipe could not mask the smell of burning hair. Dry gasps escaped the old man as the Serpent King kept his grip, and the skin on his arm bubbled and turned many colors.
“Enough! Enough!” the old man cried.
The Serpent King released his grip, sending the Soothsayer reeling and clutching his burnt arm.
“The worthless cunt cannot derail our plans,” said the old man through a wall of pain.
“My scouts reported that she sat with the lord major and performed a vision reading. Do you know what that means?”
The old man shook his head. He pulled himself into a ball and pushed away from the fire and the Serpent King, his eyes darting from the fire to the tent flap.
“It means she figured you out,” the Serpent King said. “That whiny bitch gave Machek the power to remove your tendrils of influence. She showed him the origins of his obligation, and the way to freedom.”
“It doesn’t mean he can break free.”
“True, it does not. But it will not take much determination for the lord major of the Jaguar Knights to gather the strength to do so.”
“I can go back to him. I can convince him to stay the course.” The Soothsayer’s voice quickened, and his enunciation faltered.
“You’ll do nothing of the sort. You cost me more than I am willing to lose at this stage of the war.”
“But I can help you. I have tools of persuasion I can use on Machek. He will come back to us, I promise.”
The Serpent King did not respond. He sat across from the Soothsayer, smoking his pipe and listening to the old man weep. The suffering of others aroused him, and he intended to spend time with Ri and Gishwan as soon as he finished with the old man.
He took a leather pouch from under his robe, opening it and pouring its contents out. The red powder pulsed in his hand. The Soothsayer sat and stared across the fire, still massaging his burnt arm. The Serpent King raised the powder in the air until his hand was in front of his mouth.
“May the blood of the eagle turn your heart to stone, and may you succumb to Nede, the Sign of the Serpent.”
He blew the red dust from his hand into the fire. A cloud blossomed in the tent and raced for the round opening at the top. When the air inside cleared, the Serpent King sat alone.
Chapter 45
The inner council sat before Machek. The chief elder had given up his customary seat in order to provide the lord major with complete control of the session. In addition to Trojen, Desi, and Fasha, other generals appointed by Machek sat around the table. Nobody questioned the absence of the Soothsayer.
“Tonatu,” said Machek.
“Tonatu,” the council replied.
“I know you may have thought that your service on this council came to an end with the first outbreak of hostilities. You assumed that I would take control of the military and make necessary decisions for the capital and the Empire. I thought my decision to march out and meet the enemy would provide us with the advantage of first strike, while preserving the people of the capital. However, the source of this advice has proven to be less than trustworthy.”
The members of the council glanced around the room, know
ing the source of Machek’s counsel.
He continued, “I am reversing this decision. We will pull back the Jaguar Knights and all regiments into a defensive position around the capital. It is well defended on all sides, and our wall has protected us from invasion in the past.”
Machek stopped and looked at the faces of the men before him. Desi spoke first.
“Lord Major—”
“Machek,” he said, interrupting Desi.
“Machek, I am concerned about our citizens. Before the first hostilities, some prepared for a siege, some armed themselves, and others protested. All of these seemed to be appropriate responses to the conflict. Now, your victory against the Dog People has lulled them back into a life of fantasy. People believe we’ve eliminated the threat and that life will continue here as it has for generations. Despite signs from the Book of Horoscopes, the arrival of the omens, and the obvious breakdown of the Earth Goddess underneath us, they ignore the warnings. I have no doubt that you and your superior force of the Jaguar Knights can claim victory. But what then? Our people refuse to see their destiny before them.”
“Desi, trusted friend, I hear your concerns and I do not have an answer. It is true that people sleepwalk through the capital as if the gods will continue to smile on the People of the Sun, even though the entire One World marches to ensure our total annihilation. All we can do is prepare to defend our lives and the lives of our children.”
The chief elder listened to the inner council share their fears and concerns. He looked again at the empty seat vacated by the Soothsayer and exhaled.
“Members of the inner council, you hold genuine and valid concerns for our people. I do not question our decision to appoint Machek as our lord major, and I do not question his change of strategy. It takes a man of virtue to understand a situation and to adapt to it. It is our charge to bring a sense of urgency and seriousness to our populace. I do not think we need to frighten them into hysterics, but they need to understand the desperate situation we face. I know that the Jaguar Knights can defend us, but a siege is not easy to endure, even under the best circumstances.”
The chief elder let his last words linger amongst the men before giving the sign of closure. The inner council’s session ended as members broke into banal conversation.
“Lord Major, may I have a word?” the chief elder asked Machek.
“Yes, sir.”
The chief elder ushered him to a secluded corner and spoke in hushed tones. “The Soothsayer?”
“I do not know, and I do not care.”
“Does that mean you no longer take his council?”
Machek laughed at the question and put his arm on the shoulder of the chief elder. “Sir, the old man led me astray. He clouded my true vision with his own agenda, one that is not in the best interest of the People of the Sun. I am not concerned about his absence here today.”
“There is no shame in taking the council of an elder,” said the chief elder with a wry smile. “You did nothing wrong.”
“Thank you, sir. I value your continued support. I will not fail you.”
“Cipa would be proud,” said the chief elder. “You were a good husband and now you have become a good judge of character.”
Machek felt a hitch in his chest and a longing to hold his wife again, although that would not happen. He bowed to the chief elder. Machek left the meeting of the inner council and walked to the Soothsayer’s tent. He saw the smoke long before he pushed through the trees, and the smells of burning wood and skin greeted him. Although fires in the capital drew immediate attention, Machek was the lone spectator. He stood in front of a round, black, smoking mound, gazing into the dying flames, pondering the old man’s fate.
Chapter 46
“It is time.”
“What do you want me to do?”
“Gather the lord majors of the coalition and prepare for war.”
“You shall lead them?”
“If you so desire. I could also stand down, and you could organize the forces.”
“As I have said, you will pull the strings.”
“If that is how you see it.” Tepan leaned over the table and poured more ale into the Serpent King’s mug. Servants scuttled across the quarters like crustaceans running from the tide. “I will post the order. When do we leave?”
“The next moon.”
“How many regiments?”
“All of them.”
Tepan looked hard at the Serpent King. “And what of our defenses?”
“Defenses from what? All of your One World marches on the People of the Sun.”
“If more of your people arrive from the Eastern Kingdoms, we sit here unprotected.”
The Serpent King laughed and hissed as he spoke. “It amuses me that you think Risenachen is protected because you sit in charge of the military. I can bring this place down whenever I choose, from the inside out.”
Tepan shivered as if a cold wind chilled his veins.
***
The Serpent King walked next to the lord major through the streets of Risenachen. An electric current thrummed through the crowd on the eve of war, an odd mix of patriotism, fear, desire, and skepticism reverberating in the streets. Men stepped to the side as the two warriors passed, women lowered their eyes to the ground, and children hid behind each other.
The men stopped in front of a tavern. The Serpent King stood facing the doors, his pose reminiscent of one of the stone war heroes standing throughout the city. Shane of Gisanti and Lellan came out, each tossing an empty mug into the street and flanking the Serpent King behind Tepan. The lord major led them through narrow cobblestone streets until they reached a grand coliseum.
The coliseum stood six stories high, towering over even the tallest of buildings. The rest of the neighborhood grew up around it. From the perspective of a crow, the structure would appear as an oval. Eight levels arched up at an angle from the floor, allowing all spectators a clear view of the action far below. Faded flags around the top danced in the stiff wind, flirting with the heavens and wooing suitors with winks and flashes of exotic fabric.
Soldiers crawled from every crevice of the old stone city. The order of the Eagle Knights made itself known by wearing ornate headdresses, while other soldiers of lesser importance spilled from inns, taverns, and whorehouses. Tepan stood before the iron portcullis at the entrance to the coliseum. When two guards gave the signal, the iron whined and protested, not wanting to open but submitting to the command. The lord major led the Serpent King and his two commanders to the floor, where they stopped and turned in a circle. The coliseum sat fifty thousand spectators, more bodies than any of the men had seen outside of a battlefield.
“She has outlived most of the structures in Risenachen. Her stones have witnessed performances, great speeches, sport, and blood. Although banned for generations, prisoners sentenced for serious crimes were sent here. Outfitted with weapons, they took the floor to battle to the death. The possibility of dying with honor instead of rotting away in a cell appealed to the convicts.” As Tepan spoke, the men looked down at the ancient limestone bricks, stained with the blood of lost hope.
An opening stood at one end of the structure, a heavy iron gate guarding its entrance. The platform opposite the opening rose three stories into the air. Flags of wealthy houses and those of dignitaries flew above finely crafted alabaster thrones. The Serpent King scanned the floor of the coliseum. According to his quick calculations, at least twenty regiments could stand at attention there. He could not remember seeing twenty regiments in one place, ever. The Serpent King turned to share his profound revelation with Shane and Lellan, but when he faced them, both men giggled and squinted through bloodshot eyes as the smell of warm ale filled the air.
The Serpent King laughed aloud. “Your passion for drink rivals your passion for bloodshed. Sit over there and wait for me.”
Shane and Lellan stumbled to an area covered by the afternoon shade and began to snore within moments of lying on the dusty stone.
“Will they be ready?” asked Tepan.
“Do not doubt my men.”
The Serpent King walked behind Tepan towards the raised platform at the far end of the floor. Every so often, he would stop and look around. The coliseum mocked the Serpent King and his power, calling to him across generations, laughing at the insignificant lifetimes of man compared to that of an eternal stone monster.
“I will bring you down, too. Your ancient stone will not protect you.”
“Did you say something?” asked Tepan.
The Serpent King shook his head and motioned Tepan to continue walking. “Not to you.”
Tepan led the Serpent King under the platform and up a winding staircase. They emerged from the top into deep blue sky, the Sun God above them. The view provided the Serpent King with a new perspective. Gaping archways in the top levels sat in the opposite wall of the coliseum, displaying a unique view of Risenachen. The Serpent King saw layers of structures fading back towards the horizon, where a thin blue line separated the city from the sky. The Serpent King deduced this to be the coast of the Great Sea.
“At dusk the Sun God drops to a perfect angle. Its rays reflect off the buildings, giving the appearance that they burn,” said Tepan, as if in anticipation of the Serpent King’s questions.
“I’m not here to gush over your city’s history or architecture. Can we do what needs to be done?”
The two entered a back door on the platform, descending deep within the structure through the bottom of a chiseled stone staircase. Torches lit the way and moisture clung to the walls, a sure sign that they climbed into the belly of the Earth Goddess. Tepan pushed on a wooden door, which opened into a distant corridor. On each side stood iron bars. The cells used to hold the worst criminals of the city, and now they held nothing but dead dreams and dried tears.
Their heels clicked off the cold, damp floor, reverberating throughout the chamber. The Serpent King could feel the remnants of the men’s souls inhabiting the cells. Apparitions materialized behind bars, leering and growling at the men as they passed. Tepan walked, oblivious to the taunts.