The Godlost Land

by Curtis, Greg

  But it seemed that he was that sort after all. He'd known that when he'd taken the cup of tea and returned to his seat to sip at it, and slowly let the bleakness settle over him once more. Something had changed within him. And that change had been caused by a certain dryad.

  Nyma wasn't coming back! That was the only part of the message that Harl had been able to read from her letter. The rest of it was sitting in his pocket, and he would read it when he was able to concentrate more carefully. But not yet. It seemed that the sages were right. You only really knew what mattered when it was gone.

  At least he knew that it wasn't forever. That she didn't intend to stay in Inel Ison for long. That she was coming back. It was simply that events had overtaken her and there was now a war raging between Inel Ison and the Regency and that she couldn't cross a battlefield to return to him. Still, the only words he could hear in his head were that she wasn't coming back.

  It had been like a body blow when he'd read them written on the tiny scrap of tissue paper that had been secured around a pigeon's leg and eventually brought to him by the soldier. The words had brought back so much pain from his past. Pain and fear. And deep in his soul he believed he was never going to see Nyma again. Just as he would never see his family again. His friends. His old home. The why didn't matter. None of them had intended to leave him, or to be taken from him. But still, they were gone. It was only the pain of the loss that mattered.

  Of course he could never show that. He had little left in his life, but he still had some pride. And men did not show their pain to others. So he'd helped the soldier who had brought the note to him to load up the saddle bags of his pack horse, and said nothing of what was in his heart. And he'd pretended to be his normal – if not happy then at least calm – self as he sent the man back on his way. But after he'd gone, Harl couldn't help but let a little of the pain show. Enough that even as he sat on the fallen log and sipped at his tea, even the cat knew better than to come near him. Cats weren't stupid.

  Maybe, he told himself, it was for the best. Or at least he tried to convince himself of it. This was a war. A conflict that had been going on for five long years. A civil war that had already taken everything from him. And even though there was suddenly some hope on the horizon, it had still been a gamble to let anything into his heart. Not hope. Not a home. And not a lover. Because sooner or later they would all be taken from him. It was best to end things before they became too painful to lose.

  There was only one problem with that of course. They already were.

  As he sat on his makeshift bench and the bark cut into his skin, and as he sipped at his already cold tea he knew that He was in love with Nyma. And he didn't know quite how it had become that way so quickly. In only a few short months. But he knew it was true. The birds chirping in the weak afternoon sun knew it. The orange blob of fur hiding out on the roof of his cottage as he waited for dinner knew it. Probably the griffins roaring away quietly somewhere in the distance knew it. The entire forest knew it. And they also knew like him, that there was nothing that could be done.

  Why? That was what he didn't understand. Why had this new war broken out just now? He knew it had to have something to do with the wizards who were apparently fleeing the realms. But why had the dryads chosen now to launch an all out invasion of the Enteria Regency? Couldn't they have waited just a week or two? Long enough for Nyma to return. No doubt there was some strategic reason for it. Something he naturally hadn't been told. After all, he was only a smith living out in the middle of nowhere. He made weapons. He didn't plan battles. Still, it seemed bitterly unfair.

  And no doubt Nyma would be placing herself in harm's way. He knew that, just as he knew her. She was a custodian. And she was proud of her position. Proud to ride the realms of her people and keep them safe from brigands and whatever else might be out there. This would undoubtedly just be an extension of that. He could see her out there in her armour, riding hard, sword raised high as she cut down the chimera. A glorious sight in the armour he had crafted for her.

  But he could also see her getting herself killed. She was too brave for her own good and war was dangerous. Even if the wizards were fleeing as the criers kept proclaiming, there were still plenty of chimera and false priests left to fight. And if she wasn't riding with her sister, then she wasn't being backed up by griffins and unicorns. The most powerful of Artemis's defenders.

  He also had no idea how effective the dryads were at battle. They were a peaceful people. He'd never heard of them going to war before. They could be completely incapable no matter how many soldiers they could field. And they might not have that many soldiers to start with. They simply weren't a warlike people.

  In the end though, there was nothing he could do. He couldn't reach her. He couldn't destroy an entire army – not even to be with her. He was once more helpless in the face of his enemies. His loved ones were in danger. And once more he was nowhere near them. He couldn't save her.

  That last would haunt him until the end of his days.

  Chapter Fifty One

  The throne room was nearly empty for once. Terellion had decided that he liked it that way. Ever since the bitter discovery of Xin's betrayal he had been feeling that there were too many people around. He wanted some peace. After the anger had subsided a little he wanted a lot of peace. And there wasn't a lot more he could do.

  After all, he was already punishing the demon king the only way he could – by starving him. He could do no more. And now he had to face the very real chance that he was not just going to die, but that it was going to be a terrible death. He would either be murdered by the High Priestess when she arrived, or one of the demon king's thralls would get him. He suspected there were still some about who had escaped his soldiers. Not in the city itself though.

  Of course there was still another possibility. That he would escape both those dooms and then suffer a long, lingering decline into decrepitude and senility. He wasn't sure which he feared more. But he knew that wizards were long lived. A hundred and twenty years wasn't uncommon. Which meant he could spend another forty years slowly rotting away. Turning little by little into a walking corpse. He did not want to do that.

  And then there was what came after death. When he'd set out upon this journey he'd known that to die would be to end up in Tartarus. The gods would be angry, and you did not make them angry without knowing there would be a price. But now he had another problem. Not only were the gods angry with him, but so too was Xin, the self styled prince of Tartarus. So his only hope when he had committed himself to this path had been to succeed. That hope was now gone and if he died he was doomed to eternal torment. Considering what the gods had done to their own for defying them, what they would do to him when he died was not something he wanted to dwell on.

  His future looked bleak and his only hope remained in defeating the High Priestess' and Xin's armies and then somehow finding a vial of living essence. The longer he lived, the further off he could put that terrible day, the better. So he had redoubled his efforts to find some. He had people out everywhere. He had rewards offered across the entire known world. And maybe there was hope. For a time while he had thought immortality had been close he had given up on trying to obtain any living essence. But now, since it was everything, he was putting absolutely everything he had into the hunt. And there were whispers coming back to him. Rumours rather than facts, but still something. Hints that didn't come from the lying mouths of demons. But which were still only hints.

  Still, when the soldier came hurrying in with his message he cheered up a little. It was bad news – he knew that. It was always bad news. But at least it was something to do instead of just sitting there, waiting to die. Less than half his wizards and soldiers had come back from the other kingdoms, and those that had, had reported being attacked by chimera. It seemed that Xin was angry, which could only mean that he was hungry. That was the only good thing to have come out of this entire nightmare. Let the demon king starve!

 
; It would have been nice to hear him suffering. Maybe even to hear Xin cursing his name. To open the gate a little and listen to him scream out his futile rage. But Terellion couldn't do that. He couldn't risk it. At the moment Xin was only able to speak with a few of his thralls. Those that had set up altars and cast the appropriate spells – none of whom were currently in Lion's Crest as far as he knew. Not when his soldiers were searching the city constantly, hunting them out. So that mainly meant thralls in the other towns and lands. If he opened up the gate the chances were that Xin would be able to speak with his five hundred or so thralls in the city. And if he did that then Xin might be able to wrest back control of them. That could not happen. The last thing he needed was a pitched battle in the city. Especially when all the remaining six Circle wizards were here. If any of them were killed it could be a disaster.

  In fact it could be worse. It could be the end. He was already beginning to suspect that the damage done to the binding by the first six deaths had been more than it could easily absorb. It did not feel as solid to him as it once had. Maybe that was just his imagination, but he knew it might be that the binding would not endure until the last of them died. Even if that last one was him as he planned. The next death might be the one to destroy them all. Or if not that one then the one after that. And most of the remaining Circle wizards were old. He didn't like to think about that.

  “What is it soldier?” Terellion snapped it at the man before he could even open his mouth. He was in no mood for pleasantries or formality. He just wanted the news so he could make sense of it, decide what to do, and then move on.

  “The traitorous priests have blocked the last pass between Vardania and Lion's Crest. Our soldiers are trapped on the other side.”

  Terellion wished it could have come as a shock. But it didn't. He'd been expecting them to do it soon. Xin was very angry and his thralls were determined to make his feelings known on the matter. They'd proven it time and again. They had attacked his people when it was madness for them both. The battles had been fierce and the dead numbered in the tens of thousands across the five kingdoms. That included thousands of wizards. His wizards! Now the demon king was going to try and completely exterminate one whole realm of his people? Trap them in Vardania while the High Priestess hunted them down? Even if it meant that the demon king lost everything as well?

  It was the very definition of insanity, but Terellion had unfortunately expected as much. Having spoken with Varrious, and having had his torturers speak with him at length, he had realised that the demon king was in fact mad. He would destroy his own people just to hurt him. But Terellion had expected this particular lunacy. There was of course only one possible response.

  “Send messages to all of our soldiers trapped on the other side. No more running! Tell them to join together into armies and attack the largest towns and cities. Destroy the chimera and any remaining thralls! Burn whatever altars they might have created. No survivors!”

  It was the only thing he could do now. Elsewhere he'd had his people returning home, fighting just to defend themselves as they retreated. But in Vardania that was no longer possible. The soldiers and more importantly his wizards would not be returning to him. They could not head north through the pass. They couldn't go east into the Rainbow Mountains and then try to make their way north through enemy lands. They couldn't even head west into Harvas Greens – the fauns had closed their borders. Which meant their only way back was to head south and then west, to go right around those realms, and hope that by the time they made it back there was still a realm remaining. That could be six months of marching if they even made it. It could be a year. The High Priestess would be on Lion's Crest long before that.

  “And send to my forces guarding this side of those passes to Vardania; make sure that nothing and no one comes through. No prisoners. No interrogations. No mercy.”

  The only thing he could do was kill as many of the demon king's thralls as he could.

  “Sir?”

  The soldier questioned his order, and for once Terellion didn't even care. He was simply so angry with the way things had turned out that a soldier questioning his orders simply didn't matter to him. Especially when he knew why the soldier was confused. It might have been smarter to tell his people to hide and let the High Priestess kill the traitors. That way the traitors would still be killed and the High Priestess' army would be weakened and slowed. But Xin's forces posed the greater and more immediate threat to him. And he was angry. If he was going to lose a large part of his army then Xin was going to pay for that loss in kind.

  Besides, he could withstand the High Priestess' forces here in the Kingdom of the Lion for a good long while. Maybe for many years. Long enough to find a way to win the war, settle for some sort of peace, or escape. The more forces he could bring back here, the longer he could hold out against her. Those from Vardania though, would be no use to him.

  But Terellion suspected this was a ploy by Xin to weaken him. Terellion's defensive forces were camped out on his side of the three passes while Xin's forces now held the passes themselves. And his forces in Vardania were trapped on the other side.

  No doubt the demon king was expecting that he'd use his forces in the Kingdom of the Lion to attack the passes from the north, and let his forces in the south then join with them and return to Lion's Crest together. Most men would do that – if they had any regard for their men. But Terellion didn't, and while the extra men could be useful, the price for bringing them home could be much too high. His forces in the Kingdom of the Lion could be badly weakened if they tried to take the passes. He could well lose more soldiers doing that than he would gain by bringing the soldiers from Vardania through.

  And there was another risk. Xin was surely hoping that in the battle for the passes with the High Priestess' army coming behind them all, that there would be so much confusion that he could get a few more of his thralls through. But there was absolutely no way Terellion was going to let a few of the demon king's thralls slip around the side as the battles raged toward Lion's Crest. He'd already spent months simply exterminating every one of Xin's thralls that he didn't control throughout the realm. Those that survived in the Kingdom of the Lion were well hidden and very quiet. They didn't pose him much of a threat – as long as they couldn't get into Lion's Crest. And they were still being hunted down. But if they received some reinforcements – especially any who could get into the city – then they would become a very serious threat to him.

  All the thralls knew how to set up the altars to Xin after all. That was how they'd first become his thralls. And the altars were how Xin commanded them. Every thrall and every altar was a chance for Xin to use them to free the others from his hold. Xin would cheerfully sacrifice an army to do that. He already had. After all, he'd been trying to do it for months now – and Terellion's patrols had been killing his thralls as quickly as they came across them. The miserable worms were determined as they marched across the kingdom rushing for Lion's Crest. But luckily enough, most were not that skilled in remaining hidden. But whoever the demon king tried to send through from his side was unlikely to be so unskilled in such things.

  It was the thralls who were his most immediate threat. How could they not be? The High Priestess would kill him if she could. But it would take her some time to bring her army to his realm and then to his city where she would have to overcome his forces. Especially when she would want to coordinate her attacks with those of the dryads, and their progress through Northland and the Regency was slowed. He had six months at least. Six months to think of something.

  Xin unfortunately didn't need an army. And he didn't need six months. He probably didn't even need six days if he could get his thralls into the city. He already had an army waiting for him in Lion's Crest. If Xin could get a few of his thralls into the city to set up an altar, he could start reclaiming his thralls. If that happened Lion's Crest would be overrun from the inside. The High Priestess wouldn't even need to attack them.

&nbs
p; And Terellion wanted the demon king to suffer for what he had done. He didn't explain that to the soldier though. The man was a nobody. So he used his gift and commanded the man to obey him as he repeated his commands.

  “Tell them to take no prisoners. No mercy shall be shown; no quarter given. Kill every single one of those traitors. Butcher them. Burn the temples. Hunt down those who flee. Make sure none of them survive. And make sure that the demon following bastards know who it is that's killing them.”

  That mattered. Because just maybe that message would get back to Xin while he sat in his miserable black castle in Tartarus, slowly starving and cursing him with everything he had. Maybe that message would cause him pain. It was something to hope for.

  It was what Terellion had left now. Anger and vengeance. And if it was all he had, he would use it. By all the pox ridden gods he would use it!

  Chapter Fifty Two

  Hard Flats was free! Nyma celebrated that victory even as she tried to ignore the pain of her injured arm. It wasn't that she knew the town, or even particularly cared about it. In fact she'd never even visited it before and she knew no one who lived in it. But it was the first of the towns in the Regency that they'd freed. It was the first time in two thousand and more years of recorded history that her people had ever invaded another land. Until then she hadn't even been certain they could. But they had, and they'd won, and that mattered.