The Godlost Land

by Curtis, Greg

  But hers was modified further so that while her left arm was covered all the way to the wrist, the right was bare from the shoulder. On that arm instead she wore a gauntlet of steel rings bonded into leather that ran all the way to her shoulder. And as she was wearing a sword on her left hip he knew that could mean only one thing. She was a warrior of some sort. A swords-woman. Maybe a custodian, the dryad's idea of rangers.

  “Tree Mother.”

  He greeted her formally as he had been taught to as a student. Back in the days when dryads had been friends. People worthy of respect. Back when the Goddess too had been a friend. And when wizards of whatever stripe had been learned artisans of magic and not frightened refugees.

  “Wizard.”

  “Not so much.”

  Harl denied the charge without so much as a thought, and not simply because wizards were hunted. Arcane smiths did not call themselves wizards. They did not cast. But with that one word he was beginning to understand why she had come. She knew he had magic. How she knew that he didn't know, but it didn't matter. She thought he was a true wizard instead of a mere arcane smith. And there was some magical service she wanted.

  “I saw the ashes of the minotaur and knew them for a wizard's work. And then I followed the trail here. If you can kill a beast with fire than you must be a wizard of some sort.”

  “A spark, no more. And I did not kill the beast with fire. I only burnt its remains. There are no more wizards – or hadn't you heard. Your Goddess murdered them all.”

  Bitterness coloured his words. He knew so many of those who had fallen to the Goddess' beast army. He could only hope that some had survived. That they had made it to safety somewhere out beyond the five kingdoms. And maybe now that he had been found, he should head that way as well. But it was a faint hope.

  “We follow the Goddess Artemis it is true, but we are not allies of the current temple. We simply chose not to cross one another's paths. Until now.”

  Until now? Harl was caught by surprise by that. Pleased in a way as well as it implied that things were not well in the forest realms of the dryads. Had the Goddess sent her beasts beyond the five kingdoms? She might have if she considered her grip on the five kingdoms was tight enough that she could send her armies further. But even if that was so it was far too late to be of any use to anyone. Five years too late. And what did she mean “current temple”? How could the temple to Artemis not be the same one it had always been?

  “Then welcome to the world of dark dreams and death that our lives have become these last years.”

  It was a bitter thing to say, and he regretted it. But it was also the truth. If the Goddess had turned against the dryads it was best they understood how bad life was going to become.

  “You speak of darkness because you do not understand. You do not know the Goddess. The glory that she brings.”

  “The glory of cold-blooded slaughter! I understand her only too well.” He understood most of all that he hated her.

  “The Goddess has reason for all she does and it is noble. She did not do that. This is not her doing!”

  “She had no reason and of course it's her doing! The beasts come from her temples! Her priests control them! And her soldiers patrol the towns with them!”

  Could she really be defending the Huntress he wondered? Trying to pretend it wasn't her? That was insane! But more than that it was an offence and the bile poured from him.

  “There can be no reason for what she did! Cities in ruins! Towns and villages emptied of people! Half the people in the five kingdoms are dead! Women and children! Babies! All torn to pieces. And all by the chimera she unleashed on a land that had no qualm with her. Her temple was as welcome as those of the other deities. Her worshippers were accepted. None caused her the slightest harm. And look at how she rewarded that decency!”

  “There is much that you do not know. And you place the blame in the wrong place.”

  The dryad held her ground for some reason. She should have known better. It just angered him further.

  “Tree Mother, she is guilty and there is no cause sufficient to excuse her crime. Not then. Not ever. Artemis the Huntress as she was will now forever be known as Artemis the Murderess!”

  Or she would be in his heart. And likely in the hearts of all those who had survived her attack. It would even be in the hearts of those who had only heard of what she had done. Though he couldn't be certain, he suspected that would hurt her. Gods needed to be worshipped after all. And her worship had largely ended. In fact, everywhere that her armies had not yet travelled, her temples were being burnt, her priests thrown out. She might hold sway in the five kingdoms, but everywhere else she was gone. At least in the nearer realms of humans. A deity struck from the people's hearts. He understood that was an unwelcome thing for a god. He could only hope she felt the pain for her vile act.

  “That is a base thing to say! Especially when you do not know the truth. You do not know what actually happened.”

  It was unbelievable. The dryad was actually defending the Huntress! Still! And it made him yet more angry. Angry and bitter.

  “Tree Mother I was there at Lion's Crest when she descended to the world.”

  And that was where it had all begun. Where the Huntress' beast armies had first arrived. Where the Huntress herself had finally returned to the world, or so it was said. And it was where as far as he knew she still was. It was also where the devastation had been the worst. In the other cities of the five kingdoms the deaths had been less. More had been able to flee. But in Lion's Crest the destruction had been complete. If he had to guess only a couple of thousand people had survived. And that from a city that had once been called home by over a hundred thousand. There were no words to describe such a terrible loss. And no war ever fought had killed so many.

  “I saw the arrival of her beast armies as they rampaged through the city, slaughtering at will. I watched the death and destruction. I witnessed the death of the city. And I was there on the wall at the end with Rickarial. I stood with him. With a hundred others I stood between him and the beasts. With sword and spell I held the line until there was no line left to hold. And I watched him fall. So do not tell me what I do not know! What I have not seen with my own eyes! I know all that I need to know. I have seen all that I ever wished to see. I have witnessed my fill of Artemis' doing!”

  More than his fill. He also had memories no man should ever have to have. That was but one of them. There were many more from that terrible day. Blood flowing in the streets, turning the sandstone paving red as well as many of the delicate fluted columns that decorated the fronts of the important homes and shops. Bodies littering the ground like leaves in the fall. Women crying as they hunted for their loved ones. Beasts descending on helpless people in their thousands. Cerberi ripping them apart with teeth and claws, minotaurs smashing them with horns and hooves. Leonids tearing them apart with ferocious claws and thunderous roars. Even harpies descending on them from above.

  And then there were the manticores, monsters that should never have been seen in any land. And over and above all of that there were still a few more memories that he knew would never go away. The cloying stench of blood. The sound of women crying and children screaming in terror. And the disbelieving cries of the men as they kept shouting that the beasts were pouring out of Artemis' great temple. No one could believe that. Then.

  But when Rickarial had fallen, a divine arrow through his chest, his body slowly burning up from the inside, that had been the worst memory. It had been the end. For Rickarial had been their most powerful wizard and with his death, their hopes had also died. All their hopes.

  Harl's family had died with the wizard as well. Harl knew that. He had not seen them fall – they had been on the other side of the city and he could not get to them in time – but few if any had escaped the attack. Fewer still from the side of the city where his family home had sat. For it was there that the Great Temple of Artemis had sat. And it was from there that the unending ar
mies of beasts had poured forth, enveloping the city. Against them they'd had only one hope. One man. Rickarial. The mage of mages. The unofficial leader of the Circle of wizards. Master of sky and fire.

  While he'd stood the people of the city had had hope. His fireballs and lightning storms had covered the entire city. The beasts had fallen to his magic almost without number. But unfortunately it seemed that the beasts had actually been without number. And slowly but surely the beasts had driven them back in the frenzy of battle. The mages and soldiers had fallen one by one as they protected the great mage. Every one of them knowing he had to survive. But even as they had been pushed back they had had hope.

  Eventually they had been driven back all the way to the city walls. Standing there on the ramparts that were supposed to defend the city from outside attacks, but being driven back by an enemy who was already inside the city. Their failure was Harl's fault he knew. Or at least in part. Having been taken by surprise he had been unarmed, forced to pick up a sword from a fallen soldier in the heat of battle. Had he been wearing his armour and had his own weapons with him he could have fought better. Lasted longer. But that was only an excuse. As was the fact that he had been wounded.

  Then, even as things had been impossibly desperate, as the city streets had echoed to the sounds of women and children screaming, of steel slicing through flesh, of frightened men yelling and beasts roaring, the arrow had struck. An arrow streaking from the temple itself, covering at least a league in the blink of an eye, to strike the wizard through his heart. The Goddess had arrived in the city to lead her armies, and her first act had been to take away their last hope.

  He hated Artemis for that. For killing his hope. His family had probably already been dead by then. But while Rickarial had stood with them he had dared to hope. And though that hope might have been false, even false hope had been better than none. But she had taken that away from him.

  “You were there?” The dryad sounded surprised, almost shocked. He could understand that. There weren't many who had been there and still lived. In fact he knew of no others, and some days he feared he might actually be the last. “How did you survive?”

  “Misfortune. When Rickarial died he detonated. The explosion as his magic and that of the Goddess' arrow met tore half the wall apart. I was thrown clear along with at least fifty others. But most of the beasts were shredded. After that the horde came for us, bursting out from the hole in the wall and we could not stand against them. We fell back again and again. And finally we fled.”

  He wasn't proud of that. In fact it was something that shamed him to his very soul. But there had been nothing that they could do. The beasts that had burst from that hole in the city wall had been unstoppable. Minotaurs and leonids without end. Cerberi too. The City's most powerful defender had been killed. And the mages and soldiers had been outside the city walls. They could not force their way back against the flood of beasts. They could not even hold back the flood. They could only be driven before it. Kicking and screaming but still carried away in the flow of biting, clawing bodies. Taking injuries even as they tried to resist.

  It had been a terrible time. He had fallen back again and again, and had hated himself with every step. Chimera had fallen to his borrowed blade, and their blood had covered him, but still he and the others had been driven back. And they had taken injuries. Many injuries. He had been gored and scratched but somehow had remained on his feet. Too many others had not been so fortunate. Still, had it been possible he would have chosen to keep fighting. Until the end.

  “That would seem like fortune to me.”

  Harl didn't respond to that. He didn't think he needed to and he certainly didn't want to. She might regard it as a good thing to have survived. But for a long time he hadn't. It was his nature that had let him live. Some primitive impulse within him. His inability to stop defending himself as the creatures tried to kill him. His rage as it had forced him to kill the monsters that attacked him. But it hadn't been because of any desire to live. And when he had seen the city burning, the flames leaping high into the sky, the smoke lifting for the clouds, he truly had wanted to die. Knowing all that he had lost it had seemed the only thing left to do. Especially when he'd been wounded. But try as he might he simply could not stop defending himself. It seemed that some parts of the human spirit were simply too strong to be overcome by mere will. So, instead of dying an honourable death he had fallen back and back again, fighting until finally he had known there was no hope and he had limped away, bloodied and exhausted.

  “Why have you come?”

  He wasn't sure he'd get an answer, or if he did that it would be truthful. But it didn't matter. In the morning he would be gone. He would have to move on. Now that a dryad had found him he knew the Goddess' beasts could not be far behind. Best to be gone before they arrived.

  Unless she was telling the truth and they had become enemies. But surely that was impossible?

  “The current temple has finally turned on our people. They have pushed forth into our lands and now we have to act. The false priests long ago took my sister Erislee. They have held her for years in a cage in the southern wastes. But now they seek to carry her north to Lion's Crest in a cage like an animal, there I believe to be sacrificed. There is only one path they can take. They will pass by the track near your home early in the morning. And you are a wizard.”

  She laid it all out like a simple plan. But it wasn't simple. It wasn't really a plan at all. It was a prayer – one that could not be answered. Not by him at least.

  “And what? You think I could get her back for you? She will be protected by many. I am only an arcane smith and a man with a sword. One man against far too many. If Rickarial were here, maybe he could do it. But he is gone. The strongest of us have all gone. What remains behind are only the dregs. Those who can run and hide. And there are not so many of us. Besides, even if I could do something for her, why would I? You are no friend of mine dryad. You are a friend of she who has murdered my family and friends. Destroyed my home and driven me from my land. If she has turned on you it is no concern of mine.”

  It was harsh and ignoble. But it was also true. And she had to have known it would be his answer even before she had come. No one would help her.

  “You are the only wizard nearby. And I can pay.”

  “And what need would I have for coin? There is nowhere I could spend it. Nothing I could buy with it. No one who I could even give it to. And dead men have no need of coin!” That wasn't completely true. Coin still had some value in Whitebrook, but mostly he bartered for what he needed. Furs for food.

  “My sister is an innocent.”

  She tried again, seeking to play on his heart. To appeal perhaps to his honour. But he had neither heart nor honour left. And her claim was wrong. It had been wrong for five long years.

  “There are no innocents left. Not you and your people. Not your sister. When the Huntress came upon us and murdered our people, you did nothing to help us. You did not intervene with the Goddess. You did not protect the innocents as they fled. You did not offer them shelter or food. You did absolutely nothing when we were dying in our thousands and tens of thousands. Now, when those who still survive are either enslaved by her murderous temple or fleeing her armies you ask for help from us? From me?”

  “The innocent are gone. They perished while you stood by and watched, uncaring of their plight. All that are left are the guilty.”

  And Harl included himself in that. For he was guilty of failing. Of being unable to save his family, his friends, his home. Guilty of being unable to defend the great wizard. At the very least he should have thrown himself in front of that arrow. He should have at least seen it.

  The strange thing was that as he said it he wasn't angry. He wasn't even bitter. He should have been. He was sure of that. And he had every reason to be. But time had robbed him of those emotions. All he had left was fatigue. A malaise of the very soul. Five years of sleepless nights and bad dreams when he was foo
lish enough to close his eyes. Five years of grief and sorrow. Five years of constantly looking over his shoulder and jumping whenever he heard a noise. Five years of running and hiding. There was simply nothing left.

  “There are innocent everywhere. All you need do is open your eyes to see them. And if you can use your magic to free my sister she will tell you the same. And when she's free she may finally be able to do something to set things to rights. To restore the temple to how it was.”

  There it was again. This strange talk about the current temple being different to the old one. And maybe it was in some way. He didn't know. Nor did he know how she could claim the Goddess was not responsible for the beasts and everything else her temple had brought to the lands. Or for that matter what exactly her sister could do if she was free. But in some strange way it would explain why the Temple of Artemis the Huntress had suddenly turned against the people. An explanation made of the barely plausible lies that a bard might use to hold an audience as he spun a tale of fancy.