The Godlost Land

by Curtis, Greg

  Erislee's first thought when she saw Maynard up close was to wonder at how pathetic he seemed. This was supposed to be a Circle wizard! One of the most powerful of them all. He had helped destroy the five kingdoms. The number of people who had died because of him was beyond counting. And yet what she saw in front of her was a badly dressed old man, mumbling incoherently to himself and crying. It had to be a jest of some sort. A very cruel jest.

  “Dina, are you sure?”

  Erislee had to ask. No one would have believed that this pathetic creature was a Circle wizard. Or even a threat of any sort. But Dina nodded and Erislee accepted it.

  “The tea!”

  Dina gave the order and suddenly there were soldiers in front of them with mugs of the brew in their hands. There was plenty around since they were prepared to face any number of wizards. Two of them immediately lifted the old wizard up and tilted his head back while he screamed in pain. A third poured the tea down his throat and forced him to swallow it by pinching his nose shut. It was cruel, but it was probably the least cruel thing they were going to do to him.

  It was time to end this. Erislee knew it. Whatever else happened she didn't want this to linger. Because the longer they tarried the more shame she would feel for what they were about to do. Especially when the wizard spluttered, blinked and a small orange cat suddenly appeared in his arms. It took the tea a few moments to work. But if this was his last ever summoning it struck her as a truly strange one. Truly sad. In the last minutes of his life he had summoned a cat to pet. To hold on to and bring him comfort. She had no words that could adequately describe how pathetic that was. Or how horrible it was that she would have to kill someone so pathetic.

  “Bring him.”

  Erislee gestured to the soldiers and they quickly hoisted the old man and his cat up and carried them over the wagon. And then while she watched they chained him into the demon trap. First the collar as they had been told. Then the fastenings around his wrists and ankles. By that time she knew he was helpless. He surely knew it too. But more than that he was just a frightened old man sobbing quietly and mumbling to himself and clinging to a cat for comfort. And she suddenly knew she had to take the cat from him.

  He objected of course when she did, trying to cling desperately to the cat and cried when she pulled it away from him. Cried like a frightened child. She didn't want to take the animal away from him but she had to do it. There was no way she was going to send an innocent animal to where he was going. So she pulled the cat from his arms and set it free, watching it run down the terrace.

  After that the soldiers pushed him inside the cage and slammed the door shut, and she knew he could do them no more harm. Ever. But when she looked into his eyes all she could see in him was fear and confusion. He was too old and senile to be dangerous. Too weak. But she also knew what had to be done. Even so she turned to Dina one last time, hoping for some sign that this didn't have to be. But she saw the truth in Dina's grim face. In the whiteness of her cheeks. It had to be. And if it had to be done it was best that it be done quickly.

  “Artemis let this man be gone from the world.”

  The prayer was short at least. Artemis was not one for lots of words and complicated rituals. She was not the trickster god Prometheus. But it still seemed to take all her breath to get the words out.

  Moments later there was a glow inside the cage and then it was empty. And for that she was grateful. It was a mercy that she did not have to see what the demons would do to Maynard. But even that mercy was tempered.

  A few heartbeats later, just as she was turning to the others thinking that this was all finally over, there was a scream. A terrible scream of anguish and suffering such as she had never known before. And she knew that the demons had found Maynard, wherever he was. They had torn the helpless old man apart. Shredding both his flesh and his life. Devouring it all. Senile old men should never have to scream like that. No one should. And the sound chilled her to the bone as she knew she was responsible for it. She had just sent a helpless old man to a horrific death.

  In the end the only mercy there was, was that it ended quickly.

  Worse though was the understanding that she would have to do this ten more times. She prayed that those next ten when their time came would at least be able to fight. To show some defiance. To at least be something other than pathetic and frightened. But she feared they wouldn't be. She feared that she would be putting more pathetic people like the senile old wizard into the cage.

  “Onwards! To the next terrace!”

  Erislee gave the order and hoped for someone to fight back. For some arrows to come her way, or a chimera to rush them. Something – anything – to take her mind off what she had just done. This was a war after all, and surely there should be some fighting?

  But instead of a battle to ease her troubled conscience, all she had was a small orange cat standing on a nearby roof staring at her. A cat who looked at her as though she had committed some unforgivable crime. It was probably right.

  It did strike her as odd though that she'd watched the cat run away in fear and now for some reason it was back, standing on a roof looking down at her. Why had it doubled back? Unless of course it really was there to judge her for killing its summoner.

  Chapter Twenty Six

  Maynard was gone. But it wasn't the same as when Alenda had been killed.

  There had been some similarities. There had been the same terrible damage done to the binding. It had screamed and bled magic just as it had the first time. More in fact, and once again Terellion had wondered if it was going to break and kill them all as the blood had once more flowed down his face. And then the binding had solidified again and he had known a moment of relief. Still, there had been something very different about it.

  Maybe it wasn't the binding that was different? Maybe it was the connection he had with Maynard that was different? When that had broken he had not felt it. He had not known anything about it at all. It was as though one moment Maynard had been there, a man crazed but still within his grasp, and the next he had simply vanished. Terellion had not heard his death scream. He had not witnessed his death. He had known nothing at all of the wizard's demise until the binding had been torn apart once again.

  Terellion didn't understand that. And as he sat at his desk in the library while his attendants tended to his bloody nose, it troubled him. How could the man have died, his bond and the binding both having been broken, and yet Terellion could have known nothing of it until after? The fact that he didn't understand it worried him. He didn't like things he didn't understand. He had spent a life time making sure he knew everything. That he controlled everyone.

  “Hold still if you please Sir and keep your head back.”

  The attendant was only trying to help he knew as she used expensive handkerchiefs to blot up the blood, but still he wanted to throttle her. No one gave him orders! He could have had her flogged he supposed. Or better yet he could have simply ordered her to walk off the balcony. He did that from time to time when people annoyed him. But he restrained himself. There were more important things to worry about. And strangely his bloodied nose was one of them.

  That hadn't happened the first time. But he knew it was connected to the binding being broken. As was the pain inside his skull. Something within the terrible release of so much magical vitality had back lashed on him. It had probably struck back at all of the remaining ten Circle wizards as well, and maybe if he was lucky on Xin himself. And though the damage was minor, it was a warning. He could not lose any more of their number. Because with each one that died, he understood that the injuries he would suffer would grow worse. The first death a headache. The second a bloody nose to add to it. It was simply the nature of a binding magic.

  For the first time Terellion could feel his life coming to an end, and he hated it. He could not abide the thought that he would not exist. It was more than just terrifying, it was wrong. He was too important to die! Actually he was the only important thi
ng in the world! Within all the worlds! There could never be a time when he did not exist. But try as he might to deny it, he knew that that time was approaching. And it was approaching quickly. Even if the rebels all died as they shortly would, sooner or later more of the Circle would perish. They would die of old age if nothing else. And each death would endanger him. It just wasn't fair!

  And of course it was worse for him than for others. He had angered the gods, and everyone knew they were petty and vindictive. If he died he would be going to Tartarus. There was no god he could pray to who would save him. Not even Prometheus. And once in that hell within hell Xin would torment him as no other.

  But that had always been the case. He had known that from the moment he had signed the deal. There could be no turning back. No stopping. The instant he had agreed to the bargain with the demon king, his only hope had been to succeed. To find at least the answer to one of the six great questions. Immortality. He had simply wagered his skills and the skills of the others that he would succeed. Now though, he was beginning to realise that he might not have enough time left to get those answers. He could fall short.

  At least for the moment he had something he could do to push that dark day away. And it would begin with the captain who had finally entered the room. Someone had finally managed to find him and bring him in.

  “Captain!”

  Terellion didn't use his name for the simple reason that he couldn't remember it. There were so many mercenaries and they changed captains all the time; too often for him to pay attention to and he simply didn't care enough about them to try and remember their names anyway. For all he knew the man might not even be a captain. He paid even less attention to ranks than he did names. The only thing that mattered was that the man did what he demanded. “Is it done?”

  “Yes Sir. We received a pigeon this morning. Our army marches south and will enter the Rainbow Mountains within the day. If the High Priestess lingers in Midland Heights for even a few more days we will have her. And it will take her several days to completely quell the fighting. Midland Heights is no small city so her soldiers will have to go terrace to terrace, house to house to destroy the last of the resistance. Naturally she has no idea we're coming.”

  The man was proud of that. Terellion could see the small smirk on his face. And maybe he thought, the man had the right to take a little pride in his counter attack. It had been a clever strategy. Or maybe it had simply been a stupid one on behalf of the High Priestess that they had taken advantage of. After all she had allowed herself to be boxed in in the same trap she had just used to box in his army.

  On the other hand Terellion thought, the man was being arrogant. He had no love of people who thought too highly of themselves.

  “And it would have been a better plan if you had got Maynard out first! If you had marched our forces a little faster to catch the accursed High Priestess before she attacked the city! Or had you forgotten about that!”

  The captain's smirk vanished as quickly as it had appeared. But at least he knew better than to argue, and instead he just stood there with his hands folded respectfully in front of him and his head very slightly bowed. He might be little more than a cut-throat for hire, but he had a trace of wisdom. Especially when his weapons had been taken from him the instant he'd entered the castle. Terellion allowed no one save those who were completely under his control to carry weapons or even be near him. There were too many people who wanted him dead. It was simply the price of greatness.

  Besides, ever since his fury executions the soldiers had been treating him with more respect than normal. Or perhaps that was terror? It did seem that they were quicker to obey when he gave them an order, and that they bowed lower than before. They also tried to stay further away from him if they could. The guards stationed on the doors to his various chambers had once stood inside the door ways to keep an eye on his visitors. Now they stood on the other side with a wall between them. That made Terellion laugh every so often. He had heard it said that standing guard in his castle had become a punishment for wayward soldiers. But he could live with that. If they feared him then he counted that as a success. At least one good thing had come from the forced matings.

  He only wished he could see other signs of success in the bellies of his three new pets, caged in the dungeons beneath the castle. Maybe it was too soon, but still he was disappointed every day that he went to check on them. He had hoped. After all, according to the priests the sire of the minotaurs had been the product of mating between a bull and a queen. Of course Poseidon had overseen things. Maybe it was something that required the touch of a god? That would be disappointing, and the last thing he wanted to think about just then. So he changed the subject.

  “And the other matter? The killer?” His nose appearing to have run out of blood for the moment, Terellion risked straightening his head and staring at the walls from a more normal angle. The woman with the cloth tried to stop him for an instant, but quickly realised that that was not her place and settled for simply trying to stop any more blood dripping.

  There had been a lot of it. His front was covered in blood. It ran all the way down his robes and into his lap. More had spilled onto the velvet cushions of the seat. Some was on the desk itself, staining the dark mahogany. A few drops had even made it to the floor and the thick carpet. One thing was certain; the servants were going to be busy cleaning the library for some time.

  “No new word Sir. Our spies have found out that Alenda Goldeneyes died in a tiny little town called Whitebrook, and now they're trying to find out who killed her. But there seems to be a lot of confusion about it. Some are saying it was an outcast who killed her, which would concur with your description of the man. Others are saying that it was a soldier from the fort. And still more are saying that it was one of the Huntress' own priests. To make things more difficult it seems that when she died there was some sort of explosion that destroyed half the nearby fort, and then the sky turned black and started hailing. The bards are still making up songs about it.”

  The captain's words did not fill Terellion with confidence. He didn't know who the man was that had killed Alenda Goldeneyes. He didn't even care that she was dead. But he wanted that man killed. Because he had been the first to hurt him through her death and the broken binding. He had been the first to show him he was vulnerable. No one else had ever done that. No one else could.

  “When Midland Heights is mine once again and the High Priestess properly dead I want a detachment sent to that town. I want every man, woman and child interrogated and killed. And I want that man caught and brought to me! I want to see his face as he dies! Is that completely clear Captain?”

  It wasn't just anger that made him give the order – though he could still see the wild eyed barbarian with his huge sword when he closed his eyes. Still feel that terrible blade slicing through his arms and his neck. And he was angry about that. Very angry. But there was value in doing it too. People had to know that there was a price for killing one of the Circle. They had to learn. And he would make certain that lesson was taught.

  “Yes Sir!”

  The man was quick to answer him, and quicker still to show his respect with a stamp of his foot and a nod of his head. Maybe he did have some limited intelligence. And because of that and because there was no point in doing anything else Terellion dismissed him with a brusque wave of his hand.

  He had a more important target in mind than a pathetic soldier. Right now he had to start negotiating with the demon king again.

  Killing the High Priestess was one thing, but if he had learned anything from Maynard's passing it was that he was vulnerable. And so too was Xin – he hoped. It was in both their interests to make sure no more of the Circle died. Not only would each successive death endanger the deal, but it would endanger all their lives. Even Xin might be in danger. They needed more beasts.

  The war was poised on a knife edge. Even though they were going to kill the High Priestess shortly, it could still tip in either si
de's favour. Towns and cities throughout the five kingdoms had barely enough soldiers and chimera to hold them. They could provide no more forces to the fight against the High Priestess without potentially falling to the outcasts and rebels. Likewise his two armies pushing into the dryad realms had been stripped back to nothing. They couldn't advance, only hold their ground and hope that reinforcements would arrive. And then the Rainbow Mountains would have to be retaken.

  Everywhere he looked it was the same. He needed more. More gold to pay his soldiers. More soldiers and more chimera to vanquish his enemies. More lands to provide him with gold and lives to feed to the demon king. It was always more.

  And in the end this disaster was entirely Xin's fault. If he hadn't demanded the High Priestess be sent to him, she wouldn't have escaped and none of this would have happened.

  Of course the demon king wouldn't see it the same way he knew. The miserable worm was far more powerful than any wizard. He would assume he would be all right even if the rest of the Circle wizards died. And so he would want something for his help. Always, it was his way. He gave nothing for free. Not his chimera. Not the six great answers. Not any of the translations or rare ingredients they needed to begin to recite those answers. Nothing. Xin always wanted payment.