Gods Above and Below

by Loren K. Jones

  The king shook his head and replied, “No, Prince Stavin. She must be caught and punished for what she tried, and what she did.”

  Stavin bowed again. “Then I offer my assistance as Arandar’s Blessed, as well as Senior Warmaster of the Evandian Royal Guard.”

  King Alred stared at him for a moment, then bowed his head. “The Blessed of Arandar is welcome in our search for the Blessed of Ravashanal, and Senior Warmaster Zel’Andral is welcome to assist in the search for the woman who tried to kill me and implicate him in my murder.” With that he turned away and led Queen Alantana from the dais.

  Karvik whispered, “That was stupid.”

  “It lets me go armed and wear my full armor all the time,” Stavin whispered back.

  Karvik looked down at him and whispered, “Maybe not so stupid after all.”

  Stavin returned to his suite to find a servant waiting at the door. “Prince Stavin,” the man said with a bow, “his Majesty invites you to join him in the Council Chamber.”

  Stavin nodded. “Very well. You may lead us there after I change.” The man looked nervous, but Stavin just brushed past him. It was a matter of moments later when Stavin came out of the suite in full armor, Dragon’s Tongue in his hand and his honors on his left biceps. The glow from his armor was bright enough to light up the dim passageway. The servant dropped to his knees like a spiked ox and placed his forehead against the floor.

  Stavin snapped, “Oh, would you get up? Lead us to the king.”

  He saw the man twitch, then he looked up and swallowed before answering, “Yes, Blessed One.” He got to his feet, bowed deeply, then led the way. His posture was hunched over as if he expected a blow at any moment.

  Karvik and Varik were behind Stavin, and both of them were fighting not to laugh. Karvik whispered, “Do you think people are going to bow or run away?”

  Varik answered, “Both.”

  Stavin looked around and brought a finger to his lips to silence them while the guardsmen who had heard the exchange chuckled.

  The Reynadian Royal Guards at the Council Chamber door saw them coming and almost panicked. Several of them drew their swords, but then they went to one knee with their swords at salute. Soon all of them were kneeling to the Blessed of Arandar.

  Stavin stopped three paces short of the door and said, “Rise, Guardsmen. King Alred has invited me to join his council.”

  The captain of the guard squad nodded and stood, then bowed before saying, “Yes, Blessed One, we were told. Your forgiveness, please, but even you may not take weapons into the king’s presence.”

  “There is nothing to forgive, Captain,” Stavin replied with a slight bow. “My weapons will remain out here with my guards.” He turned and handed his Dragon’s tongue and knives to Varik, then removed his gauntlets and helmet and handed them to Karvik.

  Turning back toward the captain, he nodded once. “Captain, I do not wish to keep the king waiting any longer.” The captain swallowed convulsively, then knocked on the door.

  A servant opened the door and asked, “Who desires admittance?”

  Karvik said, “Senior Warmaster Prince Stavin Zel’Andral, the Blessed of Arandar.”

  The servant had turned toward Karvik when he spoke, and fell to his knees as soon as he saw Stavin. He spoke without looking up. “Blessed One, you are expected.”

  Stavin said, “Stand, goodman, and lead me to King Alred.” The servant stood and backed into the chamber.

  Stavin’s entrance caused everyone in the Council Chamber to stand. King Alred rose to his feet as he whispered, “Gods Above.”

  “Told you so,” Lady Ava chuckled as she looked up at her brother’s face.

  Stavin stopped and bowed deeply to the king. “Your Majesty.”

  Queen Alantana asked, “Prince Stavin, why are you in armor?”

  Stavin bowed to the queen before replying, “Your Majesty, I am here in my capacity as the Senior Warmaster of the Evandian Royal Guard. As such, it is incumbent upon me to wear my armor and carry my weapons at all times. It is only my regard for your presence that caused me to leave my weapons with my guards in the passageway.”

  The king and queen exchanged a long look, but Lady Ava’s giggles distracted them. “I told you he was much more than he appears to be, King Alred.”

  “Indeed you did, and I see the glow you described as well. Very impressive. Warmaster Zel’Andral, please join us.” The king indicated the same chair Stavin had used the day before, then returned to his own chair.

  The queen spoke across the table to Stavin. “We are questioning Servallan’s close friends, digging into her associations, but we’ve hit a root: She doesn’t appear to have had any close friends.”

  The king continued, “Before a few moons ago, she doesn’t seem to have been in the kingdom at all.”

  Stavin nodded, turning it into a bow to the king. “She is a real person, Your Majesty, but she might not be a real lady.”

  “What do you mean, Stavin?” Lady Ava asked.

  Stavin sighed. “It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve run into a priest or priestess who had decided to elevate themselves to Chosen status. That fool priest of Lebawan down in Zel’Kassel was just the latest.”

  “Her credentials were impeccable,” one of the ministers said with a sigh.

  The queen made an exceptionally rude noise. “She’s tall, thin, and beautiful so no one wanted to question her credentials. Hells, I thought she was gorgeous. And I saw how she affected the men. Especially you,” she concluded, glaring at her husband.

  “That was undoubtedly by design, Your Majesty,” Stavin muttered, drawing both the king and queen’s gaze. “King Alred, did she look familiar? Like someone from your past?”

  The king looked startled for an instant, then said, “Yes. I wondered if she might be Seras’ daughter. She was--”

  The queen stopped him with a single finger to his lips. “Yes, she was beautiful, but she didn’t look like Seras. She looked more like Morilan.”

  “I thought she looked like Cahranas,” Lady Ava interjected.

  “And I thought she looked like Saralee Zel’Coy,” Stavin said in a hushed tone as he nodded slowly. “Based on this, and my trouble seeing her last night when I was wearing my under padding, she may not look like any of the people we thought she did.”

  “There are such spells, Your Majesty,” one of the ministers put in as he stood and bowed to the king, “that can make you think a face is familiar, or looks like someone from your memory.”

  “A spell to make you trust someone,” Queen Alantana muttered, “even if you don’t know them at all.”

  “That, Queen Alantana, is another reason for me to wear my armor: No human mage can match the strength of the dragon’s magic.”

  “What about Ravashanal?” another of the ministers asked, and everyone gasped when the glow around Stavin’s armor flared.

  Stavin looked the woman and said, “Arandar does not like it when the Gods Below are mentioned by name. Perhaps referring to Her as the Goddess of Terror would be a better idea. In answer to your question, the Gods work through intermediaries. Direct interference would invite direct conflict between the Gods Above and the Gods Below. I doubt any of us would survive that.”

  The king and queen shared a long look, then the king turned and nodded to Stavin. “What do you suggest, Warmaster?”

  Stavin bowed slightly before replying, “Your Majesty, I suggest we go to the source and summon the Goddess of Terror’s high priestess.”

  The king nodded, then motioned to the servant. “Have Helana Zel’Cordan summoned at once.”

  The man bowed deeply as he said, “At once, Your Majesty.” Then he turned away and went to the door.

  The king looked at Stavin and shook his head. “I hadn’t realized until just now that they are of the same clan.”

  The queen shook her head. “Helana I’m sure of. I knew her mother. But Servallan? I’ve never heard that name before.”

  “That was prob
ably another trick to make us lower our guard,” the king muttered. “Give her a familiar name.” Queen Alantana and Lady Ava were both nodding their agreement.

  “Your Majesty,” another of the ministers began as he stood, “if this person, whatever her true name might be, is the Blessed of the Goddess of Terror, what can we do against her?” The king and everyone else looked at Stavin for the answer.

  Stavin stood and bowed slightly. “She’s mortal, as am I. Her actions warrant a death sentence, not as Terror’s Avatar, but as a woman who attempted to kill King Alred, and who did kill two palace guardswomen.”

  Lady Ava stood and looked around. “If she is who and what we suspect, her fate has already been sealed by the deaths of the innocents throughout the city. Her latest crimes only add to the fate she has already set for herself.”

  The king nodded. “True. I wish we knew what else she’s planning.”

  * * *

  Servallan sat bent over a bowl of water with a thin skin of precious oil on it, scrying her enemies.

  “So, you think to find and bind me?” she asked the reflection. The idea that King Alred and his men might be a threat to her was laughable. Not so funny was the Blessed of the Bright One. Ravashanal, like the Bright One, didn’t like Her adversaries to be mentioned by name.

  The Blessed of the Bright One was a challenge to her mistress’s dominion over this hive of humanity. Worse was her own failure to realize the strength of his protections before she acted. She’d seen the protective magics around him, but thought it was nothing more than a protective amulet like the king wore. Now, in his full armor, she couldn’t even see or hear him. He was even hidden from her scrying. Such power was a nuisance to her, but was as nothing to her mistress.

  Servallan turned to the Altar of Ravashanal and went to the ground in complete obeisance. “Mistress, I beg your counsel,” she asked the screaming statue.

  There were no words in the answer. Pain coursed through Servallan’s body. Terror clenched her heart. Finally, a picture formed in her mind of the great temple complex filled with fighting humans. Servallan struggled to breathe as the terror expanded into an all-encompassing feeling of helpless panic, then faded.

  “Yes, Mistress,” Servallan managed to whisper. The feelings that were so close to stilling her heart vanished instantly.

  “War it is,” she whispered. “War between the followers of the Gods of Dracana.”

  Servallan levered herself up from the floor and limped to her bed. The Mistress of Terror’s messages were never pleasant to receive in the best of circumstances. And these, through her own arrogance, were not the best of circumstances.

  As she finally managed to master her reaction to her Mistress’ touch, she began to plot. “How can I bring him into the open?”

  Chapter 22

  HELANA ZEL’CORDAN STOOD TALL AND PROUD before her king. “Your Majesty has summoned me?”

  “We have, Helana,” Queen Alantana answered. “What do you know of the woman who calls herself Servallan Zel’Cordan?”

  Helana looked puzzled. “Servallan, Your Majesty? She is a cousin from the far south-west region of the kingdom. She arrived with a letter of introduction from my Uncle Barrow.”

  “Had you ever met her before that?” King Alred demanded.

  “No, Your Majesty.”

  Now the queen sat forward and asked, “Had you ever even heard her name before?”

  “No, Your Majesty. May I know the basis of these questions? Servallan is young and impulsive. Has she done something to incur your anger?”

  Now Stavin stepped forward. “Priestess, are you aware that Servallan Zel’Cordan is the Blessed of your Goddess?”

  “What?”

  Stavin nodded. “The woman you know as Servallan is the Blessed of Ravashanal.” His armor pulsed with Arandar’s light as he once again uttered that name.

  Helana’s hand came to her lips when Stavin’s armor pulsed. She shook her head and cleared her throat before replying, “You must be mistaken.”

  Now it was Stavin’s turn to shake his head. “Arandar is certain.”

  Helana’s eyes searched the faces around her, but found no sign of doubt. “Why wouldn’t she tell me?”

  Stavin’s mouth twisted into a bitter grimace. “Maybe she thought she’d be subjected to the same level of doubt that I have received from Arandar’s priests.”

  “Not Servallan, you fool! Ravashanal!”

  Queen Alantana shouted, “Watch your manners, Helana!” When the priestess looked up at her with a puzzled expression, she continued in a more moderate tone. “You will address Prince Stavin with all of the respect he is due or you’ll be begging forgiveness from the dungeon.”

  Helana looked startled for an instant, then turned and bowed to Stavin. “I beg your forgiveness for my lack of courtesy, Prince Stavin.”

  Stavin looked at her and nodded slightly. “I’ll let it go since you were apparently not informed that your goddesses’ avatar was here. That has to be very disconcerting.” Helana bowed, but it was obvious from her expression that she was feeling humiliated at being left out.

  “Prince Stavin,” she began tightly, “how is it that you know about Servallan and I don’t?”

  “Arandar.”

  Helana clenched her teeth, possibly to prevent herself from saying something she’d regret. After a moment, she bowed and asked, “Did your Bright One tell you directly?”

  Stavin bowed his head before replying, “He did. He also spoke through me to let your goddess know that Servallan had been identified.” Now Stavin’s lips twisted into a nasty grimace. “That is probably what precipitated the attack last night.”

  “Attack?” Helana demanded, looking around the chamber in confusion. “What attack?”

  “Last night an attempt was made on my life,” the king said in a deep rumble. “Lady Servallan was confined to her own quarters under guard, and this morning her guards were found slaughtered. Of Servallan there was no sign.”

  Helana drew herself up and looked at the king before saying, “Your Majesty, you have no proof that it was Servallan.” Then she asked in a less certain tone, “Do you?”

  The king shook his head. “At this time we do not. That is why she was under guard in her own quarters until she could be questioned. However, her actions testify quite loudly. If the attack last night hadn’t been sufficient to condemn her, her murder of two palace guardswomen certainly was.”

  Helana was stunned by the king’s pronouncement. “King Alred, she’s just a girl.”

  “And by your standards Prince Stavin is just a boy, but that didn’t stop Servallan from trying to implicate him in my murder. And it didn’t stop Warmaster Zel’Andral from stopping the assassin from killing me. Rest assured, we will take full advantage of Prince Stavin’s expertise.”

  Helana looked at Stavin through narrowed eyes before saying, “I will consult with my goddess, Prince Stavin, and determine if you are correct.” Turning to face the dais once again, she bowed deeply.

  “Your Majesties, if Servallan is in fact the Avatar of Ravashanal, I would be so bold as to remind you that she is immune to your judgment. Only Ravashanal or Eshokanal have authority over her.”

  King Alred sat forward to glare at the High Priestess of Ravashanal and growled, “And I will remind you that I, as King of Reynadia, have the power to outlaw the worship of your goddess and order Her temples razed to the ground.” His voice had risen to a roar by the time he was finished, and Helana Zel’Cordan suddenly saw the true depth of the trouble she was in.

  Helana bowed deeply and said, “Yes, Your Majesty.”

  Queen Alantana sat back and said, “You may go, Helana, but take with you the knowledge that we are watching your every move.” Helana bowed deeply to the king and queen, then again to Stavin before backing away three steps. She turned and walked away, and her stiff posture almost screamed her rage.

  Stavin looked at the king and grinned. “That, your Majesties, is one seriously angry pr
iestess.”

  The king nodded as he said, “Perhaps, Prince Stavin, but she finally got the message.”

  The queen agreed. “In the end, yes she did. It’s unfortunate that you had to rub her nose in it. She won’t forgive that.”

  Stavin sighed and shook his head. “I’m more worried about her mistress and the Blessed. Servallan is, at the least, a murderer. She may be responsible for the lost innocents as well.” He paused and shook his head. “And since none of us saw her the same way, we can’t post a picture of her with a reward. She could show up with her real face and we’d never know.”

  Lady Ava was nodding her agreement. “There is one person who can see her, Stavin.”

  Stavin’s head tilted to the side as he asked, “Who?”

  “You.”

  “Me? No, I thought about that. My armor will eliminate the magic disguise, but I don’t know what she looks like underneath it.”

  Lady Ava was shaking her head. “That’s not what I meant, Stavin. I meant the Blessed of Arandar. You, Blessed One, should be able to see the Blessed of Rava.”

  Stavin took a deep breath to argue, but blew it out in short bursts as he considered what she’d said. “You may be right, Lady Ava. You may be right. But I have too many demands on my time to allow me to go searching a city this size for one woman. Not when we don’t know what she really looks like.”

  “Then we don’t search,” the king murmured. “We draw her to us.”

  The queen turned toward her husband and asked, “What are you up to?”

  The king just chuckled in reply, and even Stavin was chilled by that sound.

  Chapter 23

  A PROCLAMATION FROM THE KING WAS posted throughout the city the next day.

  Let it be known to all our people that the second day from today shall be a day of festivities in honor of the presence of the Blessed of Arandar, His Royal Highness, Dragon Blessed Senior Warmaster Prince Stavin Markan Karvan Do’Kalin Ne’Aniston Zel’Andral, Minister of Trade for the Kingdom of Evandia.