The Bones of the Earth (The Dark Age)

by Scott Bury

  “Paulus, prince of Rome, son of the Emperor Maurice!” she cried proudly.

  “Yes, Great Mother! The seed of Rome, worshippers for centuries of the gods of the skies!” Kriemhild shrieked triumphantly. “In the body of my daughter I have united the faiths of Earth and Sky! I bring before you the seed of Rome itself, destroyer of your worshippers, despoiler of your fertile fields! Now, in this place of Earth and Sky united, I unite Man’s worship in this young mother’s body!” She raised the dagger high again and chanted in her weird, ancient language.

  She turned to her son and spoke in Greek again. “Mother Earth, take power from my sacrifice this night and defeat your enemies! Vanquish Sky and restore the rightful balance of this world! Mother Earth, I offer you my greatest sacrifice. I give you my son!”

  “No!” Ingolf screamed and sprang forward. He grabbed the boy in one hand and Kriemhild’s knife-arm in the other. She was surprisingly strong and stabbed her husband in the belly. Groaning, Ingolf pulled the boy behind him as he crumpled to the ground, still gripping Kriemhild by the wrist.

  “Father!” Ingund gasped, still on her rock.

  “Witch,” he whispered as blood ran down his wrist. Even as blood came out of his mouth he pried Kriemhild’s hand from the dagger.

  Kriemhild shrieked curses in a dozen languages. Ingolf whispered to his son, “Run!” and pushed him toward the stairs. He dropped face-first to the ground, embedding the blade deep in his body.

  Ingund cried out again as her father died at her feet. Kriemhild cursed him, looking up just in time to see Ana-kui disappear down the staircase. “Turn him over and get the dagger back!” she ordered Stuhach. She yelled something at the stone giant, who strode after the boy.

  The monster dropped Tiana and turned Ingolf’s body over, but before Kriemhild could retrieve her dagger, there was commotion on the staircase. The stone giant returned, walking backward. Its attention was held by small forms coming up the stairs.

  Goldemar, arrayed in full silver and gold armour, leaped up onto the rock platform. He swung a huge double-headed axe at the giant’s legs. Behind him a company of Kobolds poured onto the summit. The giant swung its arms, trying to sweep them off the mountain, but the little men were too fast. Three carrying ropes ran circles around the giant, binding its legs. Another hurled a hammer as big as himself at the giant’s head. It reeled back, windmilling its arms, then fell, silently, over the cliff just as the sun rose, red between blood-stained peaks.

  Stuhach attacked. Goldemar swung his axe and struck a blow that would have felled an oak tree. It only bounced off the fiend’s scales, but it staggered back and then it was attacked by three other kobolds. Their axe blows were also useless, but they kept the half-blind monster busy and away from Goldemar.

  “Kriemhild!” he shouted. “You know never to break faith with the People of Knowledge! Now give us back the Eye or we will kill you all!”

  Kriemhild laughed. She touched the amber ball on her forehead and looked at Goldemar, then all the other Kobolds. “Hold! You know the power of the Eye! I command you all to stop where you are!” The Kobolds froze in place. Even Stuhach held still.

  Kriemhild pulled the dagger out of her husband’s body, then raised it over her head and started to chant her spell again.

  Tiana grabbed Kriemhild’s upraised hands from behind. The Queen managed to turn around without letting go of the dagger’s handle and Tiana found herself dangling from Kriemhild’s grasp. She kicked at the Queen and Kriemhild went down on her butt.

  Then Javor slammed into Kriemhild, sending her sprawling to the ground.

  Unable to keep up with the Kobolds as they charged the short distance from their lift to the summit, he jumped up the last slope to see the Kobolds keeping Stuhach at bay while the Queen threatened Tiana.

  Kriemhild dropped the dagger and Javor grabbed it with a huge sense of relief.

  But the Queen was not dismayed. “Yes! The Third Companion is here! The pieces of the spell are now complete!” she cried.

  Javor looked up. I don’t believe it. On the other side of the ledge, Stuhach wrestled with a dragon. Javor knew it was Sarbox because of the great scars in its side—the results of its previous encounter with Stuhach on the Danuvius’ banks. It was able to follow us because the dagger was separated from the amulet.

  The dragon had surprised the monster and pinned it to the ground, but it could not hold Stuhach down. Its strength was terrifying. It pushed Sarbox off and slashed with its claws. The talons dug into the dragon’s hide, and Sarbox roared in pain. The dragon sank its long fangs into its opponent’s shoulder, but that did not even slow Stuhach down.

  Stuhach is stronger than Sarbox. It’s older. The monster grabbed one of Sarbox’s wings and pulled. There was a horrifying crack and the dragon’s wing drooped, the bone snapped. The monster gripped Sarbox’ jaws and pulled them open, and the dragon seemed helpless to do anything about it.

  The monster’s back was toward Javor. He jumped forward and plunged the dagger in. The tip of the blade bit into the scales, but did not sink deep. The monster let go of Sarbox and whirled on Javor. He didn’t hesitate and thrust as hard as he could with all the strength he could find. The dagger went deep into the monster’s belly and Javor felt a shock all the way up to his shoulder as the tip penetrated the scales. But the fiend did not even stagger.

  He wrenched the dagger out of the monster’s body. As it turned and slashed at him, Javor dodged, swinging the dagger wildly. The monster trapped him in front of the wall.

  Then Javor saw something that only Javor could have seen: the dagger had made a slit in the monster’s hide. He stabbed and the monster laughed at the futility. But the little cut was slightly larger.

  It can’t be just one thing. It’s never just one thing.

  Javor pulled the amulet off its chain and pushed it into the wound. The ogre screamed so loudly Javor’s ears hurt. It began to shake and smoke came from its scales, although Javor felt no heat. He pushed harder and the monster fell to its knees. Its arms hung limply against its body, and it slowly fell back.

  The amulet was burning a hole in the monster’s body and Javor pushed it deeper. Stuhach fell back onto the rock, the amulet firmly embedded in its belly and burning in deeper. Its screams turned to chokes and then smoke came out of its mouth.

  The sun rose fully over the mountains, changing from red to gold as cold green flames began to play along Stuhach’s shuddering body. Javor stood, panting and shaking.

  Ingund began screaming, a long, drawn-out wail.

  She hunched forward, holding her stomach. She vomited a thin stream. Blood flowed from between her legs. Instinctively, Tiana reached for her, but Kriemhild pushed her away.

  “Mother,” Ingund retched. She nearly collapsed but somehow stayed on the rock. “That potion …” She screamed and blood poured out of her. “No! No! My baby!”

  Kriemhild cupped her hands between Ingund’s legs. Blood flowed through her fingers, but she triumphantly held up something small and soft. Tiana gasped when she realized it was the foetal body of Ingund’s baby, dripping blood through Kriemhild’s hands. The Queen held the pathetic thing up to the moon and chanted some more.

  The Kobolds, Javor and Tiana were frozen by the horror of the sight. Ingund fell into Tiana’s arms, who lowered her gently to the rock. She was shivering from cold, shock and loss of blood and Tiana wished she had something to cover the poor girl with.

  Kriemhild held her blood-soaked hands toward Ingund. “Get up, my daughter. The solstice is upon us! Come complete the spell and you will live forever!”

  Ingund cried and tried to sit up. “Leave her alone,” Javor said, and Kriemhild looked into his eyes. Her fiery green eyes and the amber ball over them seemed to grow, to fill his entire field of vision. It was the same trick that the dragon had used on him.

  “Bring me the dagger,” said the Queen without moving her eyes from his.

  Javor could not make his mouth say “No.” He felt the da
gger in his hand, but he could not move his eyes from hers to see it. He felt a desire to bring the dagger to her and felt his feet moving.

  “Javor!” Tiana called. “You do not have to listen to her!”

  Tiana’s voice sounded distant. All he could see were Kriemhild’s eyes. It was like his conversation with Sarbox: her green eyes filled his vision and he knew what she wanted him to know, without hearing her voice. Her mind filled his and he could think of nothing else.

  He knew that she had directed Goths, Huns and Avars, manipulating their leaders into wars that wore Rome down and finally shattered it. She had directed Ghastog to search across mountains and plains for the dagger and the amulet and bring them to her. The monster had sensed them when Javor had separated the dagger from the amulet to chase Elli’s kidnappers. On its way to take the dagger, Ghastog had stumbled across a wandering group of raiders and killed them all, eating two in its mindless gluttony. When it got to the spot where it had sensed its goal, more little men had tried to oppose it. Ghastog had swept them away like grass, but found only the weaker of the items it sought: the amulet. Then it sensed the dagger coming closer. With horrifying calculation, it crushed the small woman who cowered in the amulet’s hiding place and loped through greying dawn back to its temporary home, knowing revenge would bring the dagger’s bearer to it.

  It was my fault. I killed my parents to save Elli, who never loved me. Javor was back on the mountain top, looking at a tall woman whose green eyes were no greener than her daughter’s, no larger than any woman’s. The morning sun shone full on Kriemhild’s face and Javor could easily see fine lines near her eyes, tiny wrinkles on her neck. The white robe had slipped and he could see tiny ripples along her naked white thigh.

  “With the Eye, my will cannot be resisted!” said Kriemhild. “Bring me the dagger!”

  Only Tiana moved. She walked up to the Queen and slapped her, hard across the face. “This is the secret of mankind: your mind cannot be dominated unless you consent to it.”

  Kriemhild snarled incoherently and smashed the heel of her hand into Tiana’s face. Then she kicked her, and as the Gnostic woman fell to the ground, Kriemhild pulled the great amber ball off her forehead and struck it as hard as she could against Tiana’s head. Tiana lay still on the rocks.

  Javor ran to Tiana and Kriemhild scrambled past her body to the smouldering remains of Stuhach, now reduced to little more than a large pile of ash. She thrust her hand into the middle and pulled out Javor’s amulet. “The Third Companion!” She held up the amulet in one hand and the amber globe in the other. “Yes! Now bring me the dagger!” she shrieked.

  But she was too late. Sarbox’s tail whipped at Javor’s hand and the dagger went skittering across the rock. The dragon limped forward, but it was still faster than any human and it had the dagger in its claw—the same one that Javor had cut off a year earlier, the one that had re-grown but still did not look quite like the rest of the beast. Kriemhild shrieked again, wordlessly, but Sarbox, despite his broken wing and reptilian face, appeared triumphant.

  “You liar!” Javor shouted. “I saved your life with that dagger! Give it back!”

  I have no obligation to speak truth to a mortal man, came the answer in Javor’s head. Sarbox turned and was looking for a way off the mountain top that did not involve flying when a loud crack echoed off the mountains around them. Rocks tumbled off the peak, and only then, looking up to dodge any that might fall on him, Javor noticed that the long rounded hump was shaped like a long snout with raised eye-ridges—

  “It looks like Sarbox. Like a dragon’s head,” he said out loud.

  The ground shook more violently. Javor picked up Tiana and pulled her toward the stairs, but the Kobolds were blocking the way as they scrambled down. Danisa, or Ingund or whoever she really was, was crawling toward the steps, too.

  Kriemhild jumped up. “Yes, yes, awake oh Great Mother!” She was laughing.

  A crack appeared in the hump of rock, then widened. The rocky platform they stood on shook; its edges crumbled. The staircase began disintegrating into a chaotic slope of razor-sharp rock. The young boy, Kriemhild’s son, was clinging to a boulder that was flaking away from the cliff. He hadn’t managed to run very far. A Kobold sprang down the rocks like a goat, took the boy under his arm and brought him back to join the others. Javor momentarily wondered if the Kobold and the boy would not have been better off if they had run down the mountain, away from the slide, but then he was distracted again by Kriemhild.

  “Great Mother, you are awake at last! I am Ildico! I am the avatar of Freya! I return to you your Eye, your Fang and your Scale to make you whole again! I bring you the sacrifices to restore your dominion over this world!” She cackled and danced.

  Javor felt as if he were looking down on the scene from a height even higher than the mountains. He saw Ingolf’s body, still bleeding; Tiana sprawled unconscious; the ash that was all that remained of Stuhach; the Kobolds terrified but determined to hold their ground and regain their property; the ridiculous Kriemhild or Ilidico waving her arms over her head. Her transparent white gown had slipped more and she danced almost completely naked in front of the new cave.

  Warm air like breath came out of it, and everyone on the rocky platform then knew, not as though someone had told them, but as if they had to acknowledge what they had always known deeply. They were in the presence of the Dragon, the earth itself, the consciousness of the Great Mother. Javor, Kriemhild, Danisa, the young boy Ana-kui, Goldemar and all the other Kobolds, and Sarbox knew that the dragon had seen and understood everything that had brought them to the mouth of one of the Four Hundred, the dragon that was the Alps. Even Tiana’s eyes flickered and fluttered open. Javor picked her up in his arms and held her close to his chest.

  They knew they could not hope to hide anything, could not hope to lie any longer. And they knew the enormity of the crime, the depth of the sin that Kriemhild was committing, that they had all played a part in. A formless wail ripped out of Kriemhild’s core and poured out her mouth. She dropped to her knees but she could not escape the dragon and she could not escape her own knowledge.

  Ingund felt guilt like a flood. Guilt for willingly aiding her mother’s plans, for pursuing pregnancy by a prince of Rome, for falling in love with a low-born boy and failing to even follow her mother’s simplest instruction. But mostly guilt for the trail of blood that led from her own thighs to her lost baby. She could not move, but sat on the ground, naked, bleeding and weeping.

  Sarbox dropped the dagger onto the ground. If a reptile could look ashamed, Sarbox appeared ashamed. It took a step back and disappeared over the edge. Javor looked down the cliff but could not see the small dragon—it had disappeared.

  Javor raised his hand. “Preyatel!” he called, and the amulet, as it had once before, sailed out of Kriemhild’s hand to Javor. “That’s mine, I said.” She gasped and whirled, nostrils flaring, but there was another enormous crack and a rumble. The rocky floor beneath her feet crumbled and she fell shrieking into the darkness. She was gone in an instant.

  Ingund held her breath but said nothing.

  The hole reached to Javor’s toes. He looked down into the darkness and felt the warm breath, sweet and rich coming up. I will keep them safe, he promised. He knew the dagger and the amulet were not his property, but his responsibility to protect. As was Tiana. I will keep them safe.

  Javor got up again and helped the now-conscious Tiana to her feet. He picked up Ana-kui in his arms; the boy appeared to be unscratched, but he would not speak.

  “The Eye has returned to the Earth whence it came,” said Goldemar. “Come, young man. We will help you all home.”

  Epilogue: Constantinople

  Javor watched bars close across Danisa’s face.

  The bars were plated with silver and decorated with ivory, and they enclosed the Convent of St. Mary in the Chalkoprateia. The sisters sang a hymn of welcoming another convert to the True Faith as the convent gates swung closed, protecting
the Sisters from the outside world.

  Danisa had not fought her induction into the convent. She was no longer the confident and commanding hetman’s daughter. A severe black robe now hid her supple body, and a pure white veil over her neck and forehead hid her long, shiny brown hair.

  I will always know her. Javor looked one more time at Danisa’s chin, her nose, and her bright green eyes. Then the new Mother Superior took her into the chapel, away from the eyes of men forever.

  He sighed and left the chapel. Constantinople was enjoying a warm, sunny fall day. The leaves were colourful again and Javor took his time, enjoying the breeze that brought the scent of the sea as he walked back to the Vlanga.

  Javor felt strangely at peace as he approached his new home. He pushed open a gate and nodded at a slave standing in the small courtyard paved with loose stones. In the exact centre was a small tree with long, yellow leaves. It did not cast much shade, but Javor liked it.

  At the door to the villa, he turned and looked to the western sky. No rain tomorrow. Inside, Barbara said “She’s in her rooms,” as she pushed through the connecting door to the tavern on the other side of the villa.

  “You can have my old quarters. They’re quite comfortable!” Malleus, now the Comes of the Order, had said. Javor could not get used to the Hammer of Rome’s respect for him. But there were too many painful memories at the Abbey, and he could not imagine how he would have fit in with the monks and novices. How would I explain the dragon, the monster, Kriemhild to my old friends?

  So he had gone back to the only other place in Constantinople that he knew: the Inn of the Four Winds. He smiled as he remembered how Rutius and Barbara had demanded to see some proof that he could pay for decent lodgings, and the looks on their faces when he spilled a handful of gold coins onto the bar. A gift of the Kobolds, from Ingolf’s hoard—“We need none of the wealth of men,” Goldemar had said. “Now the Earth has taken back the Eye of Knowledge, and we must be content with that.” Javor had taken what he could safely and secretly transport himself, with only a vague idea of its value. On the trip back to Constantinople, Malleus had explained the value of gold. “You have enough to live on very comfortably for several years, Javor. But you needn’t spend it. You will always be welcome in the Abbey.”