Plane of the Godless

by Peter Hartz

  With a suddenness that was shocking to see, the gate appeared in front of Giltreas, wavered for an instant, then stabilized, right in front of the eyes of the seven people in the two trucks. The three dogs, however, missed it entirely. The somewhat oval-shaped gate touched the ground, and was wider and taller than either SUV, with room to spare for a person to walk along side through it if they wanted.

  Giltreas had a moment to wonder about why he was not drained from the calling, then dismissed the thought. His patron’s work again, he shrugged to himself. Then he stepped forward, and walked through the gate, disappearing from view.

  A moment later, he returned, and waved at Dave, who shifted into gear, and the big SUV moved forward and into the gate.

  Chapter 10

  Human cities in non-industrial societies throughout time and across every material plane shared some commonalities of design: high curtain walls of rock and stone, very wide areas cleared around a city so that an invading army could not find cover and resources to use in a siege, and so that the attackers could be seen well in advance and, if not completely prepare, at least close the gates and keep them out.

  Forest-dwelling elves tended to take a different approach to building large settlements and cities. Preferring locations deep inside vast forests, they adapted the trees and brush that normally grow there to help form perimeter markers, build living quarters and homes, and provide protection from the sun above, and the rains and snows of inclement weather as well. The great city of the Elvish Queen of the Forest was no exception.

  Built into a vast forested area in the heart of the Elvish kingdom in a bend on the shore of a huge river that meandered through the forest and a thousand leagues south to the sea, the city was home to nearly twenty thousand beings; mostly elves, but some humans and dwarves lived there full time, as well. And it covered an area some three to four leagues across, in roughly a circle.

  Elvish rangers and clerics had started the city some seven hundred years before, at the coronation of the new Queen in honor of her reign. Sturdy oak trees were planted closely in rows to form walls, and as they grew, they were carefully tended so that they could still flourish despite their proximity to one another. The in between spaces were filled with thorny hard bushes, which were then encouraged to grow thick and wild, providing a measure of security to the inhabitants of the vast city. The oaks anchoring the walls were close enough together that when the big trees had matured, a guard could walk through the trees above ground around the entire wall. And the whole of the trees and bushes making up the walls were magically enhanced to make them resistant to fire.

  The north side of the city was right against the big river that provided water to the inhabitants, as well as boats to move food and goods to and fro. The gates at the south, east, and west sides of the city were anchored to stone columns erected by Dwarvish craftsmen who leant their talents to the city as a gift to the young new Queen. The massive doors were from human craftsmen who built them out of the wood of ironwood trees, found in the far east of the realm across the great sea to the far west. Dwarvish skills enabled the massive doors to be moved by a single guardsman, despite being the weight of many men.

  Structures in the city were built of the wood of trees carefully selected in the vast nearby forest, so that the overall health of the forest was not damaged, but enhanced. Some trees were moved aside in the new city walls to make for better pathways and roads through the city, and to give some form to the layout of the buildings.

  The road to the city was paved with smooth, cut cobblestones, and was wide enough for two freight wagons to pass each other with much room to spare. The trees to either side of the road had been cleared back some ten paces, allowing traffic to pull off to the side of the road for whatever reason they might have.

  The city’s security was seen to by the small groups of guards that patrolled the forest surrounding the walls day and night, as far out as many as five leagues.

  Goltamas always liked guard tower duty. One stood on the upper branches in the tallest oak tree just to the side of the gate at your station, and looked out upon the road leading up to the gate below. The view was clear nearly four hundred paces. For the last several hundred years, the kingdom was at peace. Those who would harm travelers had been cleared from the neighboring forests nearly twenty leagues in all directions.

  The quiet duty of the west wall guard post was a welcome respite, especially on a day as special as this. The warm sun shown down out of the clear midday late summer sky, gently warming everything it touched as it filtered through the forest canopy above. A warm, gentle breeze flowed over the city and its inhabitants from the southwest. In a few more moons, that wind would come down from the north, bringing cold, snow, and ice as the days grew shorter and the nights colder and longer.

  But for today, it was pleasant. Almost nothing of interest ever happened. Goltamas had fought in border clashes with the neighboring races that were less than charitable towards his kingdom. He’d had enough violence in his long service to the crown and the Queen to wish to avoid any further contest.

  Unlike young Tarkhan standing next to him. Tarkhan was new to the guard group. He was a diligent student of arms and tactics, and showed much promise on the field. He was also a standout with a bow, particularly good with the weapon all elves learned to use since childhood. Unfortunately, he was also inflicted with what Goltamas’ instructor long ago had called “the disease of youth.” Young, and eager to prove himself, he required an older hand at his side until he was properly seasoned. He viewed gate guard duty with the importance it deserved, however, which kept him diligent and attentive to his duty. He would have been sent to guard the market, or something less desirable and less important, if he had not shown the proper attitude towards his role.

  Guard duty at every post was always in pairs. Guards on duty were not supposed to hold their position if a serious threat to the city presented itself. They were supposed to observe until the threat was known and understood, then one was to go and report to the lieutenant or captain on duty so that a proper response could be mustered. And if one was injured, the other had the duty to escape and report.

  Now, Tarkhan coughed quietly, a signal to Goltamas. Tarkhan’s attention was focused on some happening at least three hundred paces out from the city gate. Goltamas looked where Tarkhan was staring, and saw a Traveler’s Gate standing there.

  It was much wider and taller than such a gate would need to be if a single traveler was coming through, or even a line of men in single file, making Goltamas step over to Tarkhan’s side. Placing a hand on the young man’s shoulder, he waited to observe what was happening before dispatching the young guardsman to report.

  As the two watched, a single figure stepped through the gate, stopping to look around carefully. After a moment, the figure went back through the gate again. Goltamas took in a breath, waiting to see what would happen. And was totally unprepared for what he saw next.

  A large black, shiny metal… thing, on strange black wheels, emerged, rolling forward several paces, then stopped. It was as wide as a large freight wagon, and looked to be nearly as long. It had a long forward section, followed by what looked like a nearly upright, slightly curved piece of glass that one could almost see through. Goltamas and Tarkhan had never seen anything like it. Tarkhan was about to comment, when a second, slightly smaller shiny metal thing similar to the first rolled out of the gate. Then as they watched, the same person they had spotted first through the gate came back through. Neither guard could see who it was, as he immediately turned back towards the gate. He raised one hand, and the gate disappeared. Then he turned, walked past the two things towards the gate, and the two strange contraptions followed, and Goltamas finally got a clear look at the stranger on foot.

  “Well. This will get interesting. Tarkhan, go tell the captain of the guard that Giltreas has returned,” Goltamas said, with a slight smile.

  “Yes sir. Who is Giltreas? I have heard the name before, but
no one ever talked about him very much.” Tarkhan’s curiosity was evident on his face.

  “Go now. We can talk later, young one. You will probably hear about him later, anyways. Some voices will certainly not be silent.” The tone of voice was dismissive without being oppressive, and Tarkhan left, knowing not to press his question further. As he started on his way, he heard Goltamas behind him say, “Ask for someone to relieve me, and come back up when you are done. I will greet Giltreas when he gets here.”

  “Yes, Guardsman,” was the respectful reply.

  ◆◆◆

  Giltreas walked up the gently climbing road at an even pace, glancing over his shoulder from time to time to make sure the two carriages were following; they maintained their distance from him and each other, and a part of his mind thought briefly that the weather was much the same in both places. Then he put that thought aside. He knew he would have to approach the walls and the west gate carefully, so as to not cause alarm. It was for that same reason he walked in front, instead of riding inside, that those guarding the city might see him and hopefully recognize him, or at least his peaceful intent. He glanced around, taking in the warmth of the midday sun that shown down on the open roadway, and the open grasses growing beside it. Once he had thought that road to be a marvel. Now, having seen the perfectly smooth, painted roadways that the humans built for their carriages, he was saddened at this road’s replacement in his mind as an accomplishment to be lauded.

  But his mind was also in turmoil. Something strange had happened to him, and seemed to be continuing. He never would have guessed in all his years that he could revive four dead corpses in that manner in such a short time. The strength to attempt such a thing should have been beyond him, or any other mortal being. Yet he accomplished it without being taxed overmuch. Such an ill-advised feat might have killed him once before. His patron seemed to direct and support him to do things he would never have attempted before, and had never heard of being done by a mortal of any race. His eyes narrowed as his thoughts went to his patron. He thought he heard a distant, gently mocking laughter of an almost-familiar voice in his head, but it disappeared almost as fast, and he sighed internally. It would never do to accuse his patron of such things as wandered through his thoughts at the now. He had endured severe chastisement before for lesser transgressions.

  He walked up to within twenty paces of the gate, and called out. “A traveler seeks entrance. Might my companions and I enter?” The two carriages stopped another ten paces behind him, and he heard their strange rumbling cease as the drivers stopped their ‘motors’, whatever those were.

  A familiar voice answered him gruffly. “What business do you have here in the City?”

  He smiled. “I wish to visit family, and ensconce some brigands into the gentle hands of the Queen’s jailer. I also have some travelers with me that seek refuge. I wish to ask the Queen for her Royal protection for them. I must present myself to the Queen. And I wish to see my mother. I might also engage in drunken revelry with old friends, brawling with old enemies, and carousing with old lovers. If time permits, of course.”

  The gate swung open, and Goltamas, his first guard instructor, stepped out at the head of a group of guardsmen, some of whom he recognized, and others he did not.

  Goltamas stepped up to Giltreas, and held out his right arm. Giltreas grasped arms with him, then Goltamas swept him up in a hug. Stepping back, he spoke up. “What are these strange things that follow you? And where are these others you speak of?”

  Giltreas turned, and waved, beckoning.

  Dave opened his door, and stepped out. The Suburban was pointed slightly to the left, and he walked around to the front. With a slight head bow, he spoke to the guardsman at the head of the small group.

  “I am Dave. I would like to get the four miscreants out before they cause any troubles. Would some of your men assist me?”

  Goltamas waved, and four of the elvish guardsmen in his group stepped forward. Dave walked around to the right side of the machine, and pulled on the door handle, opening it. He then reached in, and pulled the first one out.

  The guardsmen laughed as they saw his hands bound behind him and the rope around his ankle leading to the next one that Dave was pulling out.

  All four were standing in a line looking at the strange beings in front of them. Jack’s heart sunk further as he realized that he had no idea where he was anymore. The gate they had traveled through had been like nothing he had ever seen. When the front of the Suburban had touched the gate, a light had flashed towards them in a slight burst of noise, and in a blink of an eye, they were all here, wherever they were. Everything seemed different, as if they were in a different forest, with an old cobblestone road that led up to a city walled in trees and thorn bushes. Now, these men in front of them, dressed in some strange leather armor with metal pieces sown on, were laughing at him and his team. And the worst of it was, they were definitely not human. He slumped, looking down. He had no clue how he would even get back home, if he would ever be free again. And he was definitely not among anyone he could befriend, if the greeting the guardsman in front gave the grey man was any indication. Then Giltreas did something, and all the guards seemed to glow white for a moment, and Giltreas spoke again in that same language.

  One by one the guards came and touched his bare skin; some on his hands, others on his face and neck. He didn’t dare resist; he had no idea what would happen if he did. He also didn’t speak, as he sunk further into a deep depression. One of the others, Aaron, however, didn’t seem to have the same restraint.

  “What are you doing, you freaks?” He snarled out, obviously not really concerned about his future. Then again, if he was the sort that was, Jack reflected, he probably wouldn’t be here in the first place.

  The lead guardsman who had touched Jack turned and spoke. “Giltreas cast a spell upon us so that we could learn your language. I would watch your tongue, human. We could keep it cut out of your foul mouth, and put it back only when we have questions for you. You are not amongst any friendly beings here, and we do not take kindly to brigands. You have no value to us. I suggest you find it inside yourself not to anger us.”

  Dave spoke up then. “These four attacked my sister. They are very dangerous, by the standards of my home. I would not trust them at all. That is why I have trussed them up like that. I would not remove their bindings until they are safely behind bars.”

  “Fuck you, asshole. You were next, you know,” Aaron spat out at Dave, and Jack winced.

  The Elvish guardsmen gasped. The translation of Aaron’s first statement the guardsmen could understand was not something to be said in the company of civilized beings. And the threat was clear enough, coming after Dave’s statement of what they did. It also confirmed their guilt, not that confirmation would be difficult to attain, once the Queen started asking the four some difficult questions under a compel-truth spell.

  Dave simply shook his head, otherwise ignoring the statement, and Goltamas looked at the human again with respect. He then turned to Giltreas.

  “Is there anyone else in your party? Let us meet them,” he invited.

  Giltreas waved once more, this time to the smaller grey carriage, and the doors on that one opened.

  Allison stepped out first, and her appearance was taken in, but then Michelle stepped out, closed her door, and walked calmly around to where Allison had stopped at the front of that carriage. Then they both walked up to Dave. As she passed the men standing in a line with their backs to her, Michelle took the opportunity to punch Aaron once in the kidney hard enough to knock him off his feet and leave him on his knees gasping for breath in pain. She smiled sweetly at him, but didn’t say a word. Allison stopped to stare at the man on the ground in front of her as Michelle moved on to Dave’s side.

  The guardsmen were taken aback that the slender, stunningly beautiful, regal human would do such a thing. Or that she even could with such ease and composure.

  The guards of the forest city sa
w many humans, including human women, as they passed through the gates on their way to their business. Many of the human women they had met in passing had struck them as rough, self-sufficient types who might be capable of such a thing, but this was quite a bit beyond their experience. She held herself with a grace and presence that seemed to command respect from everyone around them; obviously a noble woman of some kind. But her readiness to administer retribution, with a smile that appeared genuine but couldn’t have been, stunned them. Her actions were totally at odds with what they expected from her appearance.

  Allison only smiled grimly at the man Michelle had hit. He looked up in pain when she stopped in front of him, then tried to move back from the look on her face. She simply nodded to him, and walked on, wrestling with her internal turmoil. She looked up again at the men that Giltreas was talking to, and her turmoil got worse. They definitely weren’t human. The eyes were different, in a way that was hard to define. But they shared that same eye color as Giltreas; a deep, rich amber that seemed both totally alien and yet so intelligent.

  That they were of the same race as Giltreas was not in doubt, but there were differences. Where Giltreas’ skin color was a uniform grey, almost stone-like in tone and color, the guardsmen’s skin color was a pleasant greenish-grey color that somehow looked right on them, and made Allison think about the green of the woods and grasses of the forest around them. But they shared the same slender build. And where Giltreas moved with a certain feline grace, almost like a jaguar or mountain lion, these men had a certain movement that struck her as more deliberate. While their movements were less flowing than Giltreas, they still moved with an inhuman grace. They reminded her of a yoga instructor she once had, she suddenly realized.