Now he could see it; white froth atop a black turmoil of rushing water. In a second, it would be over them.
Then Wist stepped between them and the oncoming flood. He knelled down and pushed his staff, the staff that had been part of Nikka's hammer into the mud. Then the water was upon them.
As it touched the staff, the water was repelled. It shot over their heads and to their left and right, forming a bubble in which they stood. Nikka stared in dumb amazement as the water flowing above him, as if the world was turned on its head. He watched as the river darkened; a crimson aspect permeated the clear water. Then it fell on them. But it was the last of the floodwater that soaked them. Little force remained in it and when it was gone, the sky was revealed. In it sat the Ghria Duh, slipping a little closer to its burning counterpart.
The water that poured back down the hill was the colour of blood; tainted and spoiled like the aftermath of a battle. The smell made him gag.
Wist slumped to the sand and Nikka ran to him. He picked the bigger man up and threw him over his shoulder. Then he waded through the blood-red water and walked up to the gathered Giants, leaving Haumea and Tyla to bring the fallen Giant. Wist still gripped the staff tight in his fingers and the heat from it stung Nikka when it made contact with his skin.
The Giants made a space for them, so Nikka set Wist down beside the Giant that Haumea and Tyla had saved. The Giant continued his long, belaboured breaths, but showed no other signs of life. Haumea sat beside him, bedraggled and exhausted. Her efforts had taken every ounce of her strength. Nikka marvelled at the brave, young Giantess. In his youth, he would have gone out amongst the survivors of a battle, but his job had been to kill any of them that still drew breath; a reaper-boy.
And now he risked his life saving people he did not know. People who belonged to a race he cared nothing about. So, he laughed at the state of his life, sitting at the side of a flooded valley surrounded by an army of Giants. One of them mistook his humour as a sign of disdain of their suffering, but when Haumea joined in, the laughter spread through them; a grim and remorseful sound.
As it ended, Nikka stood and looked out over the valley. The hillside was now brown, barren and scarred. On the Intoli's side of the now swollen river, another chunk of land fell away and washed downstream. At least the red stain was gone from the river. And the Intoli were gone; retreated back into the forest or washed downstream. There would be no more fighting today. The Giant priests that remained were last to leave the river.
-*-
The Giant's set up their camp up on the hill. Those who had died were burned in fires outside of the camp where the cold wind carried away the fumes. Nikka sat with Haumea, Tyla, Wist and Oinoir at a separate fire. Brathoir lay on the bed near to Oinoir. He took regular draughts from a large flask that held a pungent spirit. He grimaced at times, but said nothing about his leg.
Nikka looked at the Ghria Duh as it sank toward the western horizon. It had gained on the Sun - the true sun – today. It seemed to move closer to it every day; though not in the startling way it had raced to its target the day that Wist had broken his hammer.
'Did you see her?' asked Wist of Tyla. It was the third time he had asked that question and the Lyrat answered with the same shake of the head. 'I can't believe that none of you saw her. You did …sense her though, didn't you?'
Again, Tyla nodded. 'She is moving north; east and north.'
'Therefore, we know their destination,' said Brathoir, his words sounding ill-defined. He was the first Giant to speak to them since the fires were lit. Oinoir nodded his head in agreement.
'They were crossing here to attack north,' said Oinoir.
'Dilsich,' said Brathoir. 'It all comes back to Dilsich does it not?'
Oinoir said nothing and moved around the fire to eat and rest.
'What's Dilsich?' asked Wist. The Giant's both looked at Wist, but neither objected; perhaps they welcomed the distraction.
'Not a what, but a where,' said Brathoir. 'It is, or was, a mine. Part of the mines that run from here, all the way up the Srath Mor.'
'Srath Mor?' asked Nikka preventing Wist from speaking. He knew that Wist overflowed with questions, but he decided that tact might be in order.
'Srath Mor,' repeated Brathoir. 'It is the valley that runs from here directly north, although it is more a series of deep crags and pits than a valley. Not impassable, not for us, but a grim passage it makes. I have travelled it twice, once recently, but it I shall never do so again. Not with this.' He pointed to his leg, which was still strapped to the tree branch. The Giant spat and then took another draught from his brew.
'I could always chop it off for you,' said Nikka, 'if it troubles you that much.'
Brathoir blinked and then erupted with laughter, spitting drink down himself. Oinoir lifted his head from his food for a second, but could not raise a smile.
'I could grow to like you Dwarf,' said Brathoir.
'He is a Cerni,' said Oinoir without looking. 'Not a Dwarf, a Cerni. Would you like me to call you a Gorgoth?'
Brathoir shrugged and took another drink. 'Cerni it is then,' he said. 'Thank you and your strange comrades for their efforts today.'
'It was Wist that saved us,' said Oinoir. Wist swore under his breath and began to refute the claim, but Oinoir spoke again. 'I felt the tremor when you struck the ground. We all did.' There were some murmurs of assent from some of the other Giants. Brathoir looked unconvinced.
'And after the water came, we saw you part the flood. Reachd-thabhairtear!' proclaimed Oinoir in his own tongue.
'As Prime Glaine,' began Oinoir, his voice catching as he accepted everything his words encompassed. 'As prime Glaine, I give you the title Dionach.'
'I don't want titles,' growled Wist as he stood. 'I didn't save us. That was Aviti.' Nikka expected Tyla to agree with Wist's statement, but he sat motionless.
'Dionach, I name you! Ionracas is lost. I must assume his mantle. Would you countermand my first order?' he yelled. Haumea jerked to a halt at his words. Then she dropped her head and avoided his eyes.
Nikka put a hand on Wist's shoulder and pushed him back to sit. Oinoir went back to his meal. The other Giant's around the fire muttered to each other.
'They will be moving north already,' said Brathoir.
'Do you think I do not know that?' said Oinoir. 'I saw the masses of them. Brathoir, how can we stand against them? If the water had not come, we would have been slaughtered. And then they would have been able to take Dilsich and the damned Dearg Fola.'
'That thing will bring us all down,' said Brathoir. 'We should leave this place. Leave it and flee to the hills.' Nikka thought that Oinoir would have erupted at this, but the new Prime Glaine's shoulders slumped.
'I know not what to do my friend. Perhaps I should stay here and drown my sorrows with you.'
Brathoir roared with pained laughter again, ' That should not take too long then. Haumea could drink you to standstill.' Haumea blinked at the mention of her name, but she said nothing.
'Should I go to Durach, our King, and seek his council? That will take too long, to be sure. I cannot go around Srath Mor with an army. That would be weeks lost in the mountains.'
'What is at Dilsich?' asked Wist.
'Dionach?' Oinoir asked.
Wist shook his head at the title but continued. 'This Dearg Fola, at Dilsich, what is it?'
Oinoir shifted on the ground. 'A stone.'
'Tell him the truth Glaine,' said Brathoir.
'Truth? What is truth, but a chord to bind you to your fate?' The bitterness in Oinoir's voice forced Brathoir to withhold his drunken scorn. Oinoir set his bowl aside and stood. He walked over to the fire and put his hands over the flames. They were so close to the blaze that Nikka was sure the Giant's hands would be burned, but the Glaine did not pull them away.
'Dilsich, that's where they found it; in an old ore mine south of the city. The humans have an insatiable the metal that only we can provide. Ah, the great forges of the no
rth, by the World, how I miss them.'
The Giant exhaled and then he continued. 'When the land split, at the time of the great upheaval, the mines were ruptured; the land around it was torn.' Wist flinched, but never looked away. 'When we re-entered the mines, it was as if the land had metamorphosed. The darkness of the mines took on an evil cast. No matter how much light we took down there, it was never enough.'
'But the movement of the ground had opened up new paths; new ways, unexplored ways. And it drew us, this stone, like iron to a lode stone.'
'Only a part of it was exposed. A small dark-red gem it appeared at first, but, unlike a normal gem which would be dull until worked and polished, it glowed with an inner radiance at times.'
'And from the moment he espied it, Durach knew he must have it,' interrupted Brathoir irreverently. Some of the other Giant's bristled at this, but Nikka saw that there were as many nodding agreement as were outraged by the implications of Brathoir's words.
'It is true that Durach commanded us in secret to extract the jewel,' said Oinoir. 'He even gave it the name Dearg Fola, after the burning red Sun. But as much as he desired it, he could not bear to look upon it, so he left and returned to Athadh'
The Dearg Fola, thought Wist. It was what Tilden was after. And he had said he would use Aviti to get it.
'We tried to remove it, but the stone resisted our efforts to free it. Despite our cunning with stone of every kind, we could not move it. Even when we had uncovered the extremities of the dark jewel, the deep would not relinquish its prize. So, we left it in the ground and it was guarded'
'And then this recent shift in the earth pulled down the celling. It exposed the damned jewel to the sun. But it was at night that we saw Dearg Fola in its full, terrible splendour. Only when the Sun had set and full night was upon it could you witness its terrible crimson beauty.'
'Durach returned there, but he could no longer bear to look upon it. I was only told that we were to guard it in the name of his people.'
'Then an Intoli went to Durach,' Brathoir said. 'It had a demand for him. He told him that we must cede the Dearg Fola - the 'Arkasona' as they called it – to them. They said that a great threat imperilled the land and that they needed the Dearg Fola to meet the land's need. But there was avarice in the Intoli's eyes, or so our King would have it, and greed in its heart. He would not accede to its demands.'
'And so, we are here,' concluded Brathoir his face contorted as he shifted his weight, so he took a deep swig from his tankard, grimacing once more as he swallowed it down.
'You must do what you feel is right Glaine. You command here.'
Oinoir paced back and forth beside the fire, Nikka saw his shoulders slump.
'Tonight, I have set the fires which sent Ionracas, and many other of our brothers and sisters, to beyond. Many more have been washed away. But such is life. When there is no other choice then the choosing is easy, is it not Brathoir?' asked Oinoir. 'Ah, if only Oinair was here.' The Giant massaged his forehead with the fingertips of his right hand, smearing the mud and blood that was there.
Silence fell over the camp as they waited for their leader to speak once more, but it was Haumea that spoke up first. 'Send me to Durach,' she said. Nikka started at her voice. He had forgotten that she was there. 'Show me where to go and I will take word to Durach, my Glaine.' Her voice faltered over the epithet. Her crooked face was contorted with grief.
'Haumea,' said Oinoir. 'I have misjudged you and for that I must ask that you forgive me. You may be small in stature, but your bravery shamed me today. You shall take my place as second Glaine.' Haumea began to protest, however Oinoir held up his hand to forestall her. 'Now is not the time for arguments,' he said.
'We must go through the mines,' said Oinoir. 'Although they have been little travelled since the latest upheaval, it is a risk that we must take if we are to reach Dilsich before this Intoli army. They will be forced to move east before they can go north. We must proceed with more haste than the safe road allows.’
A single Giant may make their way through the hills and mountains in this region, but a mass of Giants would take many times longer.'
'You may never make it out,' said Brathoir, his words slightly slurred.
'We will make it out,' said Oinoir, 'even if we have to break our way through the surface of the land. No Giant can be held beneath the surface of the land if they do not wish it. Where we emerge and how long it will take us is what concerns me.'
'Then we must go,' said Wist. 'This Dearg Fola - this bloodstone - that is what Tilden is after. He has infiltrated the Intoli. That is why they want it. We must get there. He will take Aviti there.'
'Then why was she here?' Tyla said. The desert man stared at Wist.
'Damn it Tyla, how should I know?' said Wist. 'Do you know? Everyone seems to think I have answers. We are wasting our time!' Tyla continued to look at Wist.
'Please Dionach, calm yourself,' said Oinoir. 'There is no need to remind me of the urgency of our plight.'
'Haumea, you are correct, word must be taken to Athadh. Durach must be told. He is our King. He must rouse our kin.'
'Then she shall not go alone,' said Nikka.
Wist looked at Nikka. 'We must go to Dilsich and find this Dearg Fola, this Arkasona. That is where he will be - in these mines at Dilsich. He has told me.' Wist's voice cracked as he spoke.
'No,' said Nikka. 'That is where you must go son. I cannot bring myself to go beneath the earth for such a time.' He felt no shame in his admission. Even making it before the Giants and Haumea did not bother him; it was a simple statement of fact. 'I can stay a night or two below ground. I can sleep every night with rock over my head, but I must see the sun each morning.'
'And what need have you of me? With Tyla beside you and an army of Giants, I would simply be a hindrance.'
Wist refuted the Cerni's words, but again Tyla stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. So, Nikka turned to Haumea, 'May I accompany you, if your Glaine permits?'
Oinoir shrugged his shoulders. 'You have proved your worth to me, Cerni. You do not need my permission to walk these lands as you see fit.' Haumea nodded, but then turned from the fire and walked off as the first of a fresh set of tears ran down her cheeks.
-*-
Nikka rose before the sun the next morning, but the rest of the camp was already up, packing and preparing to march. As the first touch of the sun fell upon the Cerni, Haumea joined him.
'There is no straight road from here to Athadh,' said Haumea, 'but we may follow the army until the mines.'
Once the sun was high enough for him to enjoy its slight warmth upon his face, he shouldered his pack and fell into step beside Haumea as she walked unevenly through the rock-strewn hills.
He did not say farewell to Wist or Tyla. Either their paths would cross again or they would not. Tyla could take care of Wist, but Wist would have to learn to control his temper on his own. He was no longer the lost boy that had stumbled up his mountain.
After an hour of walking, they came to the mouth of a cave. It was set into a hillside and it was big enough for the Giant's to enter without stooping. Nikka saw neither Wist nor Tyla amongst the Giants, but he shuddered as he thought of them entering the earth. Cursing himself for cowardice, Nikka strode along the path that led them north and west away from those tunnels.
12 - Venom and Tears
Then there were stars. A handful at first, swimming alone in the black night, but soon they were joined. Before long thousands of lights danced in the dark until it was dark no more. Iridescent blue and red motes of light punctuated the stream of pure white stars. But it was not just light that they bestowed upon her. Something else was there. Something more primal that she could feel penetrate her soul. It was hope.
Then the lights blinked out in the sky and they left behind nothing, not even an absence. It was as if they had never existed.
So, she floated in the void for a time. She thought that it might help, to lose herself, to lose her pain, to
lose it all, amongst the immeasurable nothingness. But no matter how she tried to drive the thoughts out, they returned like ravens to roost in her black heart. And she knew the reason; she knew why she would never be rid of them. They were pinned to her body like clothes sewn through her skin.
Light returned; faint, singular and ethereal. It glimmered alone, until, as before, its brethren joined it. This time they seemed diminished, as if they had passed through a crucible. She expected the lights to move, as they had when the voices had come to her, asking for her aid, but they lay motionless in the sky.
The pain was there, crackling through her nerves - the pain of holding so much magical power and then having to release it. Yes, the pain was there, and so was the need to hold the magic once more.
Then Aviti felt the pressure of the cold ground against her back. The dampness leached her body and into… into that damned bar inside her. And the moisture from the sodden ground triggered other memories; the Intoli, the bond with Tyla, the flood. What devastation had she bestowed upon the land? And all for what? To save the lives of those she did not know? Or was it in the hope that she too would be swept away?
Death. Was not that what she wanted to achieve? An end to her enslavement, an end to her pain. An end in suicide.
Before she could refute the charges laid against her, she was dragged to her feet and the world span ingloriously. Her stomach rebelled against her, but after a few enforced steps it settled.
The night swirled and enveloping her once more. But rather than comforting her or providing the relief that she sought, it brought a restored sense of loss. She tried to conjure up an image of her father, but nothing would come. Then she thought of her mother and her brother, but they too refused to console her. So she closed her eyes again and stumbled forward.
Then, unbidden, a face came to her; an uneven face; one beaten by the hard desert sun. Twin scars ran over his face, marking his own perceived failure. And with it Aviti could feel his presence. He was leagues and leagues away, but she could feel him nevertheless. And he was alive.
The Redemption of Wist Boxed Set: Books 1 - 3: The complete collection Page 43