death's knight 16

 

Chapter 16

 

“You winked,” said Kaz, to Erytheon, as the meeting broke up.

“Sometimes I see in broad without Fate’s words taking me over, and it gets the point across without argument,” said Erytheon. “I don’t see a trógling, or a toróg god; I hear a dedicated fighter against all that is wrong in the world, and a distraught young man whose beloved is kidnapped by another. Mycota is one of my own god’s pantheon, and if she cannot bring her beloved to meet her parents, there is something wrong with the world. And our god listens to his seers, so do  not worry.”

“Are many prophecies made up like that?” asked Kaz, disconcerted.

“No, most are visions reported without passing through the conscious mind of the seer,” said Erytheon. “But sometimes a few judiciously croaked words saves hours of interpretation of the true seeing of oneself and others.”

“You are a wise man, and I honour you for your honesty to me,” said Kaz.

“You are an incipient hero of a god of truth. I’d be a fool to try to lie,” said Erytheon. “I am grateful to be alive in such momentous times, and to have the privilege to meet gods and heroes and those who can bring about the downfall of chaos. I know your importance, and my first prophecy was, ‘Out of the shadow comes the dawning, to cure darkness and light.’ But it was not considered more than a subsidiary prophesy and the ‘out of the shadow’ part was taken as ‘from obscurity’ rather than literally.”

“A lesson to us all in reading prophecies,” said Kaz.

“Well, someone who will live forever and desire death knows that is very literal,” said Erytheon, dryly.

“Good point,” said Kaz.

 

There would be two parties to make up. Harkon would accompany Zog to deal with Mycota’s bodyguards, with most of their usual party, Svargia, Evgon, Kuros, Protasion, Lelyn, Polia and Vulk.

“The appeal to Solos is as follows,” said Protasion. “Though Mycota accepted hospitality by eating a meal, the provision of offspring pays off that acceptance, and Mycota has born Tor two children, Toxia and Fthysia, so she has more than paid off a simple meal.”

“What of other meals under his roof?” asked Harkon.

“His obligation to give, if he planned for her to stay,” said Protasion. “This is all according to the Great Book of Law, which Tor used to claim that he had the right to keep Mycota. The previous questing was before she had had any children, and hinged on a breach of promise case. According to Tor, he told Mycota, when she visited at his request to seed his halls with fungi, that if she ate with him, she signified her willingness to marry him. The meal provided was a traditional toróg marriage proposal meal, which Mycota did not know, but ignorance of the law is not usually considered a defence. She accepted the hunted meat prepared by Tor’s own hand, with the three ceremonial fungi, garnished with coriander and fennel.  However, she has provided a life for a life, so she has the right to leave him.”

“And she probably doesn’t know that, either,” said Harkon. “As Glyph lords of a martial god go, you’re a very good lawyer, Protasion.”

“The law is a weapon to wield as much as a sword,” said Protasion. “I can thrust and parry with law, which is a form of truth, even as I can with my sword.”

“You’re talking yourself into presenting the case to Solos,” said Harkon.

“Now what a case that would be!” said Protasion. “The pinnacle of the law career I never had. But he’s going to want loopholes; having to decide against his daughter must have been heartbreaking.”

“I’ll go with Kaz,” said Hraazaz. “A toróg’s senses might be useful.”

“I am going, too,” said Rynn. “Someone has to look after Phaedros.”

“Hey!” said Phaedros.

“It’s a stern duty, but we Alethosans are good at that,” said Rynn, winking.

“I am staying well out of it, to avoid the wrong sort of gods war,” said Alethos. “Other than being available to co-ordinate timing, of course.”

“Speaking of war, when we went off, the Selenites had been thrown out without boots or horses, yet here they are back and fully equipped,” said Kaz. “Were we gone long enough for a runner to be sent to Selenopolis?”

“Ah, no, and we have egg on our faces for what happened,” said Pythas. “It turned out that some of the city guard had been Bedazzled by deliberate attempts on the part of Trickster worshippers to use riddles to draw them into his cult, and they let the whole damn lot of them back in overnight. They collected their boots and other equipment and we woke up to find them back in place. Next thing that happens is that notices are passed out to all on the census as taxpayers to the effect that if we are taxpayers, and don’t worship one of their filthy cults, we are to be charged a surtax as compensation. And I will say this for Erippion Windblown, he has courage, and he used a cult spell of Thundervoice to go around the city, inviting all to a ceremonial burning of illegal tax documents, come prepared for trouble. And their attempts to control the crowd led to being thrown out again, but they managed to evacuate most of their supplies whilst we were fighting. We threw out the traitors, too, and replaced the city guard with ranking Pollosians and Alethosi. And the tróglings raided the records of Librax to see what prophesies the Selenites have which might be written there.”

“Sounds like you were all busier than we were,” said Kaz.

“And wiser now than we were then; and ready to be on our guard at all times,” said Pythas. “They suspect the sewers now, as well, but have no idea about other tunnels running from them.”

“I got word that every drainage culvert now has a guard and has been stopped with an extra grill,” said Rynn. “I directed mining trógling to find a way to add tunnels into thickets of oleander on the banks of the river, short of the outfall.”

“Well done,” said Kaz. “There’s enough tangle of vegetation to slide into, to keep the enemy confused.”

“I was thinking of building some living caves as well, so we could maintain forward positions,” said Rynn. “There’s a big old tree fallen as well, and if we can get someone who knows wood, as stone-carving cantrips won’t work, it seems to be hollow, and if we can clean it out inside and put some peep holes through, that would be a good base.”

“Requisition someone with forestry knowledge; there’s bound to be at least one,” said Kaz.

“I know just the lad,” said Pythas. “Told me he never wanted to see another tree in his life; but sometimes, duty is stern.”

Rynn sniggered.

“I said the same about caves, once,” she said.

“Won’t light shine out of spy holes and give the position away?” asked Phaedros.

“Manned by trógling; we use our darksense and have no lights,” said Rynn.

 

 

Setting up ways round those drain exits discovered and watched by Selenites kept Kaz occupied as they waited for the time of fruits to come round, at which point those going to the underworld would go upriver to the temple they had set up in the former Ghostlands. Watch points were set up and provisioned, and volunteers set to man them. It was sought after by newly-married trógling couples to have some privacy, in conditions so much better than former slavery that they declared it luxurious, even with two couples sharing a watchpost so someone could be on duty whilst the other pair enjoyed uxorial time together. It worked out well, used to hard work, the trógling were conscientious about performing their duties, so much less arduous than those they were used to.

 

oOoOo

 

“We’re getting to know this route rather well,” joked Kaz, as she set off with Hraazaz, Thyella, Phaedros, and Rynn, whilst Harkon, Zog, and the rest of their party sailed north over the great lake to the mighty fungus fields north of Melokome, in the foothills of the Toróg mountains.

“The timing will become more critical when we get to the temple and set off down the path to the underworld,” said Rynn. “That’s going to be scary.”

“You don’t have to come, if you’d rather not,” said Kaz, gently.

“I’m going,” said Rynn. “Someone has to babysit Phaedros.”

“He can take care of himself, if need be,” said Kaz.

“Debatable,” said Rynn.

“Oh!” said Kaz. “It’s like that, is it?”

“Yes,” said Rynn, not pretending to misunderstand. “He’s cute.”

Kaz nodded.

 

 

Zalmox and Alcitha welcomed Kaz and Rynn warmly, and their companions warily. Thyella was keeping her divine aura under control, and Phaedros only glowed when he got over-excited. “This is a major mission, then?” said Zalmox.

“A vital one,” said Kaz. “It may be a side mission for me, but it is vital to happen when it happens.”

“I was sorry for you when I first heard that prophecy and I still am,” said Alcitha. “It isn’t easy to have to live up to something like that, and it sounded pretty harsh.”

“Oh, I’m reconciled to it,” said Kaz. “But it does mean I have to count days to do things at the right time, rather than pursue personal development at my own pace.”

“Zalmox and I will do what we can, whilst being glad it isn’t us,” said Alcitha.

“Basically, it’s be here whilst we head down the path to the underworld,” said Kaz.

“I don’t mind going when it’s my time, but I can’t say I want a preview,” said Zalmox.

 

oOoOo

 

Harkon and his companions called in at Kallos. Here, he found Commandant Skerynos very willing to see him.

“Sword brother! I hear you are one of the close companions of the prophesied one...” said Skerynos.

“Aye, and she’s on a mission to the underworld, so no, I can’t introduce her,” said Harkon. “How are you getting on with Erippion?”

Skerynos made a face.

“Do you know Erippion?”

“I have that dubious felicity,” said Harkon, dryly. “His motives are good.”

“Yes, one cannot doubt that,” said Skerynos. “He was enthusiastic in evicting all Selenites.”

“I never figure out how the windy ones manage to get anything done when they are obliged to poetise before fighting.”

“He bought a trógling and freed it, as is required, renamed it ‘Erippion’s mouth’ or EE-em for short, and has the trógling do the poetising whilst he does the posturing... er, gets ready to fight.”

Harkon sniggered.

“I said I know him, not that he’s a friend of mine.  He does posture, but at least he treats trógling with more respect and circumspection since he irritated our Kaz, who is a pint-sized powerhouse.”

“Our lord did tell me to give respect to trógling,” whispered Skerynos. “Do you need anything?”

“No, our lord just told me to pop in and see how you were,” said Harkon. “I’m on a mission with some sun-fondlers... er, Solosians... to fulfil a prophecy one of their sun-seers came up with so long ago I’d ignore it if it didn’t tie in with our more recent ones.” Harkon suddenly recalled the original prophecy had been found in their own temple. “Actually, one of our seers came up with something similar, so I can’t really discount it. And the signs say that the time is right.”

“I don’t hold any truck with prophesies, myself,” said Skerynos.

“I didn’t, until a friend of mine became the object of one,” said Harkon, soberly. “It makes a difference.”

He neglected to mention his own part in prophecy as ‘the judge’ and his subsequent relationship with Thyella. It was too personal.

“Yes, I imagine so,” said Skerynos. “I’ve had a personal epiphany about how I’ve been neglecting my duties; I have more of an idea what I should be doing, now. Though if they send an army, I’m not about to stop Erippion from charging forth without thinking. He isn’t my responsibility.”

“It comes with the god,” shrugged Harkon. “Ombros is a trifle abrupt and reckless and he expects his followers to be the same. Sometimes sitting back and assessing is better.”

“Death is patient; so is Truth. The wind is just a force of nature without let or hindrance,” sighed Skerynos.

“I hate to say it, but the Clear Skies crowd will make good shock troops to soften up the Selenites in the coming war, that more disciplined troops can mop up in detail later when they have spent themselves,” said Harkon.

Skerynos shrugged.

“They raise warriors; we raise soldiers and generals.”

 

Harkon and his companions stayed overnight; a male High Toróg excited some curiosity but no animosity. Toróg occasionally joined Alethos’s cult if martially inclined, and not keen on the wild, berserker frenzy of Tor. It was generally assumed that the quiet Toróg was a battle brother and friend of the Glyph lord-priest, Harkon. Zog said nothing to dispel this impression, and they went on their way to the last stop on the lake without raising much comment. They must disembark at Melokome, and rely on Zog to lead them to where he had often watched Mycota when she was permitted above ground.

“For it is my fault that Tor took her captive,” he sighed.

“How so?” asked Harkon.

“I was courting Mycota, and she was not indifferent to me, despite her father’s disapproval,” said Zog. “But Tor asked me if I would ask her as a favour to bless the fungi in his realm as well as mine, for her divine writ is in the underworld as well, for the darkness aspect of fungi. Mycota is the daughter not only of Solos but of Eukaryota, a spirit of darkness and mother of Sakaromysea, who invented alcohol. Eukaryota seduced Solos at the gates of dusk, when he was tired, with her daughter’s wine, and made him drunk enough to succumb to her embraces. Mycota is first born of their night together, but also Zygomia and Ascomia, mothers of moulds, and Lichena, mother of mosses and lichens. Solos cursed alcohol thereafter to degrade a male’s performance under its influence, even though he could not destroy its ability to inflame the senses.”

“It is not a story I knew,” confessed Harkon.

Zog gave a short, ironic laugh.

“It is not a story which Solos is proud of; but Mycota and Lichena chose to live in the light, and Solos accepted them as his daughters.”

“Then, when you and Mycota are united, you will, like the Daykaz, be of shadow?” asked Harkon. “Rocks and soil are in the light as well as underground.”

“I will not object to that, if such a change means we can be together,” said Zog.

“Then talk very fast to Solos about being shadow-beings,” said Harkon.

 

“Your tool is very smooth,” said Solos to Alethos.

“And shrewd,” said Alethos. “He can see which way the world is going, that when chaos is defeated, or contained into the necessary remains of it as disorder or random chance, then the gods must change or die; and your change is to accept that shadow is not an enemy but the inevitable result of light.”

“Don’t push it,” said Solos. “That first ever cup of wine was rough by today’s standards, but heady! I am not proud of my antics under its effects.”

“Your curse upon it was, however, timely, before it became known to mortals,” said Alethos, dryly.

 

death's knight 15 cliffie bonus

 

Chapter 15

 

“You have Lazar Kron,” said Thorus Mils under a flag of truce.                   

“So we do,” said Lightfather Chrysandion, who had been brought up to speed by Pythas.

“We want to know what you want in order to give him back,” said Mils, sweating.

“We want you Selenites to go away and stay away,” said Chrysandion.

“Bravo! You can do succinct,” said Pythas, under his breath.

“Don’t start,” said Chrysandion, also in a low tone.

“You cannot mean that you expect us to withdraw for the life of one man?” said Mils

“But yes, that is exactly what we do expect,” said Chrysandion. “He was taken overseeing the torture of a harmless merchant and her entourage. My god may not like the Toróg but we acknowledge their right to exist, and to trade. And this is an outrage.”

Mils went red.

“Lazar Kron informed me that she is possibly the subject of a prophecy helpful to your side.”

“Then you will understand that we only give him up for any thing less than the absolute surrender of the Selenite Empire,” said Chrsandion.

“And I cannot possibly do that,” said Mils.

“We keep Lazar, then,” said Chrysandion. “Was there anything else?”

“....No...” said the deeply unhappy Mils.

 

“What happened about the Commandant in Kallos, or is it tactless to ask?” asked Chrysandion.

Pythas smiled grimly.

“Alethos went personally to inform him that our cult is opposing the Selenites, only he went in the guise of a messenger from me, to see for himself what it was like. Skerynos went off on a rant about me, and how I am too hasty and feckless. And then Alethos manifested fully in his office and gave him what I can only assume to be a right royal bollocking; obviously, he would not tell me, but Scrylos was moved to apologise to me the next Godday on the Godplane, and he seems to have got his finger out at last, and to look at things realistically, and truly embrace Alethos and realise that life is for living until we die, not accept things he thinks he cannot change.”

“Well, I hope he gets on with Erippion,” said Chrysandion.

Pythas sniggered.

“I’m sure life in Kallos will be interesting,” he said.

 

 

 

oOoOo

 

The heavy pulsing of the crystal womb flickered, and the light gradually died. And then Kaz was using stone cutting cantrips on its surface with delicacy and precision, cutting round the surface, weakening it and deepening the scored line she put upon it, working fast but trying not to go too fast, until a quick tap with the pommel of her sword was enough for the crystal to break, knocking away the shards so that life-bringing air could reach the High Toróg woman inside.

“Mistress!” cried Tan, sinking to the flat-footed squat, eyes averted, which was the trógling equivalent of kneeling.

“Hraazaz?” Kaz held out a hand to help her out, as Harkon lifted away the boat.

The eight-foot tall Toróg had glossy blue-black skin and shining silver hair, and six breasts. Harkon had done enough research to offer her a robe to put on.

“I believe I owe you a favour, Kaz of Alethos,” she said. “What, did only Tan survive?”

“The others are safe in the city where I sent them,” said Kaz. “No favour, we are equals and perhaps, against all my prejudices, friends.”

“That goes against all my prejudices too.”

“The sun will not fail to rise if we can manage to make a friendship work; we both want the same thing.”

“And what if you could help me with something I have secretly longed to do for many years if I only had the power and the chance?”

“And what is that?”

“To win Mycota from her unwilling marriage to Tor, and reunite her with Zog, son of Rogaz, lord of soil and rock, who loves her.”

“I will willingly help to rescue Mycota, but her choice shall be her own,” said Kaz.

The chime startled Hraazaz, but the Toróg noticed that neither Kaz nor Harkon seemed in the least surprised.

“Another step along the way,” said Harkon.

“So it would seem,” said Kaz.

“That chime,,,” said Hraazaz.

“Fate, letting us know that we are doing as we should,” said Kaz. “And time to plan for when Mycota is permitted out of the underworld to bless the fungi of the autumnal world.”

 

oOoOo

 

The meeting took place in a teaching hall in the temple to Alethos, and as well as Kaz’s usual team, Pythas and his wife were there, pretending not to notice Lelyn perched on Protasion’s knee. Thyella was perched on Harkon’s knee; and also there were Ralthur Kron; Chrysandion; Xanthos Brightspear, looking uncomfortable; and Hraazaz Rebirthed. Alethos joined them, and a rather uncomfortable looking male High Torog, who was Zog, Earthmoulder, who lurked behind Hraazaz. He and Thyella were in another temple by direct invitation from Alethos. Erytheon Sun-Toucher, the sun-seer had been brought in case any discussion set off a prophecy.

“Well, here we all are,” said Kaz. “All of us agreed that whatever other rivalries and dislikes we might have, we hate chaos and all its works. My Lord Zog, you are wondering what that has to do with Mycota, but according to ancient prophecies, the freeing of Mycota is one of the signs towards the start of the overthrow of the Interloper Gods.”

“I see. Thank you,” said Zog.  “I am informed that you quest to separate Trógling from Toróg and cure the curse?”

“Yes, and that begins this solstice,” said Kaz. “The timing works out nicely, which makes me suspect that Fate is cheating somewhat.  Lord Zog, are you in the habit of meeting with Mycota when she is permitted to the surface?”

“Yes, and I have confessed my love, which she professes to return,” said Zog.

“Well, that makes that part easier,” said Kaz. “What we need is to distract Tor whilst you spirit her off and hide... in someone else’s holy place.”

“My mother will not shield us against the wrath of Tor; they have to show a united face,” said Zog.

“That’s why Chrysandion is here,” said Kaz. “To intercede with Solos.”

Chrysandion spluttered.

“Are you insane?” he said.

“When the darkness stands with the light, then let chaos tremble,” intoned Erytheon.

“He doesn’t think so,” said Kaz.

“Well, at least I have a prophesy to give to my god,” said Chrysandion.

Erytheon slowly closed one eyelid over his filmy white, blind eye, turned towards Kaz. Kaz blinked. Was that a wink? That suggested that there was more depth to the sun-seer than she had realised!

“And as a misdirection to Tor, I have a couple of suggestions, neither of which anyone is going to like,” said Kaz.  “One is to occupy his time and mind, and the other is to turn his gaze away to what is happening around him.”

“Let’s run with the second first,” said Harkon.

“This relies on the fact that whilst humans and toróg have their different way of thinking, there are similarities which also stretch into animal kind,” said Kaz. “Whether you have a wolf menacing a fold of sheep, someone shouting ‘Fire!’ in a theatre, or the earthshift trembler sounding the gong in a tunnel, the instinct is to get away.  Very few people of any kind are sufficiently well disciplined to exit in an orderly manner. Sheep follow the bellwether, and if the gap of escape is small, there will be congestion and the exit will be jammed and likely enough there will be deaths. The same if you shout ‘Fire!’ in a theatre. Does anyone head for the stage, which is open, and at least a place from which to assess the danger? No. They head for the nearest exit, through the flammable wooden tiers of seating. When the gong is activated by the tremours of earth movement, be it an earthquake or avalanche, or fissure breaking open, most trógling and toróg flee. Trógling get trampled underfoot. Maybe a fight breaks out between two or three darklings trying to go through a choke-point only wide enough for one, as happens too in theatre doorways. The headlong flight to exit a danger-zone is an inbred instinct.”

“Kaz, stop lecturing, and get to the point,” said Lelyn. “You’re good at teaching neophytes but we got what you said and want to know where this is leading.”

“Sorry,” said Kaz. “And the next point needs Alethos to tell me whether the dead also panic and fear danger. Because as I understand it, Alethosi at least fight every day, and get up unhurt at the end of the day.”

“Ah, now here you come to the crux of the matter,” said Alethos. “My people fight, and their pseudobodies die, but reform; it’s only attacks on the spirit which cause real damage to the dead. Once the spiritual power is diminished to nothing, the spirit ceases to be, and there is no spark of being to revive. This is why there are long-held truces between Tor’s people and mine, as it could get ugly with raw spiritual combat.  His people are berserkers, and hone themselves as mine do, but they are also more easily provoked because the mind-set of any being does not significantly change for being dead, and the ability to fear and the tendency to react to fear remains.”

“And thank you for a fuller answer than just ‘yes,’” said Kaz. “Are there ever earthquakes in the underworld, dear?”

“Yes, occasionally,” said Alethos. “But religious enclaves are protected.”

“Oh, that stops that idea, then,” said Kaz.  “I don’t think I could engineer some spurious enemy for them to go off to and attack, and obviously a real enemy is out of the question. That means I shall have to distract him personally as an ambassador from you, to negotiate a treaty until the chaos gods are thrown down.”

Alethos choked.

“Have you any idea how risky that is, especially when he realises he has been distracted?” he managed.

“Yes, which is why it was plan B,” said Kaz. “But it’s what I have. If anyone else has any better idea, please suggest it.”

“They’d all be distracted by the hunt,” said Alethos.  “There are creatures in the underworld, you know; and hunting them for feasting is one of the ways we spend our time. There are Geryones, three-headed cattle, huge and fearsome, even the cows are more fearsome than earthly bulls.”

“How do they graze? Do they eat fungi?” asked Kaz.

“Oh, you are thinking that there is no light at all in the underworld; this is not so.  There are places where light comes through deep fissures, and as the sun passes overhead it can illuminate them, and also the light of the sun is seen at dawn and dusk. The size of the underworld is less than the world above, and every now and then, the Geryones herds go on a rampage to run from Dawn’s gates to Dusk’s, or the other way. Leading them near to the Lead Fortress of Tor and stampeding them will guarantee his interest,” said Alethos.

“How on earth am I supposed to do that?” said Kaz. “You may not have noticed, my dear, but I don’t reach five feet tall, and my voice is puny.”

“Thunderbolts!” said Thyella. “I can grant Harkon spells....”

“He’ll be needed to handle the undead guardians Tor will send watching over Mycota,” said Kaz.

“Oh, bother!  Well, then, I’ll come myself.”

“Would glowing make grass grow for them?” asked Phaedros. “Because if so, I might be able to herd them by providing some succulent grasses... I think I could make it work.”

“I hate having to rely on others,” said Kaz.

“You aren’t,” said Thyella. “You’re co-ordinating us all. And in touch with Alethos to poke Zog at the right moment.”

“Well, it sounds like a plan, as long as we can find the geryones,” said Kaz.

“You’ll find them,” said Alethos. “There are plenty of them.” He considered. “One thing you must remember is to take plenty of water. Geryones can store some water under their skins, and there is good water to be found in the underworld, but it is not as common as the world above, and you will want to make sure you have plenty.”

“Can one get water directly from under their skin?” asked Kaz.

“Yes, but beware, because drinking their blood can enhance your strength, one reason Tor’s berserkers value them, though they have less effect on pseudo bodies. But when enhanced,  for the living, it’s possible to rip muscles and tendons and also one feels very weak afterwards. A mix of their blood and milk makes a strength potion with fewer side effects.”

“How interesting,” said Kaz.

“You’re going to want me growing grass while you milk them, aren’t you?” said Phaedros.

“It struck me as useful,” said Kaz.

“I did mention it in expectation that you would want to bother to gather ingredients while you were there,” said Alethos, mildly. “You will, I assume, go via the road of the dead?”

“I thought so,” said Kaz. “I might get to see Iphianira....”

“I think that can be arranged,” said Alethos.

“Who is Iphianira?” asked Phaedros.

“She was one of the ghosts in the Ghostlands and I held her hand to help guide her onto the path Alethos opened up to draw her to his lands, as nobody else had actually gone amongst them to welcome them to their own afterlife.”

“You mean, you Alethosi dealt with the problem, not the sun monks?” burst out Chrysandion. “And it would have been that simple?”

“Well, it seemed simple to me,” said Kaz.

“Kaz sees past problems to solutions,” said Alethos. He was looking smug.

“Why did you let everyone think the sun monks had succeeded in their prayers?” asked Chrysandion.

“Oh, it seemed like a good idea at the time,” said Kaz. “Besides, staying out of the minds of certain people also seemed like a good idea at the time, to sneak around for a bit longer before it came time for the curse to fall upon me, and things start getting interesting.”

“I love her definition of ‘interesting,’” said Lelyn.

“Oh, come on! Life isn’t boring, is it?” said Kaz.

“By no means,” said Lelyn.

 

death's knight 14

 

Chapter 14

 

“We had an unexpected change of mission,” Rynn explained to Pythas. “The Darkling we need for Kaz’s mission had been captured and was being tortured. Kaz has her in a stone womb for rebirth into a High Toróg, and...”

“Powers!” cried Protasion. “That makes sense of another of those cryptic passages. ‘The daughter of darkness must be born again to aid with the dawning and the mother of shadow.’  Oh, there goes that dratted chime again.”

“We didn’t hear it in the tent,” said Rynn.

“We will when she emerges,” said Harkon. “We need to get help and food to Kaz and the other trógling, and help her hide a glowing crystal womb.”

“A couple of harmless fishermen on the river, and a big enough boat to pull out and put over it, and the trog... trógling,” suggested Ralthur Kron. “I want to question my cousin about why they seized the Darkling.”

“Walk him about the sewers for a few hours, then bring him into a light office,” suggested Polia.

“Organise it,” said Harkon. “Protasion, fancy going fishing?”

“Evgon’s better at making like a peasant,” said Protasion, regretfully.

“Fine, let’s go find some clothes, and arrange a boat,” said Harkon.

Evgon sniggered.

“The Selenites have no idea how easily we pass over and through their siege,” he said.

 

 

Kaz made her way cautiously along the river, and found a group of tróglings with a crystalline sphere, still glowing blue. They had made some attempt to cover it with vegetation to hide the glow, but as they were naked and had no tools had limited resources. Kaz cut some saplings and sharpened the points for the others to drive in with large stones to make a fence around the glowing rock, and showed them how to weave the side branches she had cut off in and out of the fence posts, whilst others brought river mud to daub onto the smaller branches. At the entrance, posts driven in front of the gap held short poles dropped behind these and the wall behind.

“Just in time,” muttered Kaz, hearing the light plash of oars from a small boat. “Drop flat!” she did so herself, and was copied by the other trógling.

 

“Is that a faint blue glow out of the top of that shack?” asked Evgon.

“It is,” said Harkon. “Make for the shore, and sing a good Alethosan hymn.”

“And look, it’s Kaz, waving,” said Evgon when they were a few bars into the hymn.

 

“These are friends,” said Kaz, to the other trógling, running to help Harkon and Evgon to bring the boat inshore.

“We brought food and clothes for the others,” said Harkon. “And you want to hide the blue glow from above.”

“It shows? Oh bother! The down side of being short,” said Kaz.

“That’s why we brought the boat,” said Harkon. “We were going to use it upside-down over the whole thing, but we can prop it up over the top and we have a heap of nets to hang off the side so you can lie low underneath the boat.  There are blankets in here too.”

“Can you leave me Tan, and take the other to safety when they’ve eaten?” said Kaz. “I’d feel happier.”

“Certainly,” said Harkon. “And Evgon will be mending nets if anyone asks.”

 

 

oOoOo

 

Lazar Kron was furious, frightened, and starting to become confused. He had been walked up and down a corridor in the pitch dark,  Pythas having decreed that a service tunnel in the temple should be used, not give away the secret of the sewers, and  Lazar was stumbling with tiredness. He had no idea that the hands turning him at each end and forcing him on were willing volunteers of trógling who did not like the way the Selenite Empire treated its slaves; as trógling were always available and were not considered much good as house servants, when a work gang had done their work, they were often used in what passed in the Empire as ‘comic turns’ in the arena, pitted against large gladiators, or a group of workmen with spades against wild animals. One trógling gladiator had made a name for himself, one Dróg, and one of the recently rescued trógling was in contact with him, being his brother, and the resistance group Dróg had set up in the Selenite capital, Selenopolis. Dróg was now a worshiper of Alethos and had been given contacts with the plainsfolk who were in revolt. Lazar did not know this, only that he had been up all night and was tired out, and it was something to do with one of his cousin’s slaves. He had recognised Kaz as the one who had brought wine to him when he was discussing the upcoming executions with Alenna Dren and Clodus Mils, if only because of her vibrant health.  He suspected his cousin of sleeping with that obviously feminine trógling, and despised his cousin for it.

At last, asleep on his feet, he was dragged to a room where the sun streamed blindingly in the window, and winced. Then he recognised his cousin behind the desk, despite the painful red mists from the glare of the sun. His jailors here were humans, who had taken him from the trógling.

“You!” he snapped. “You sent your slave to kidnap me!”

“Not a slave,” said Ralthur. “My colleague came to rescue Hraazaz Wealthbringer. Why on earth did you detain her? The Toróg merchants are usually considered neutral.”

Lazar was too furious at what he perceived as his cousin’s treachery, disoriented, and off guard in capture shock without expecting to be asked serious questions as there had been no suggestion of what he recognised as torture.

“She fulfils the prophecy,” he snapped. “‘The dark one with light hair must be stopped before she knows the Daykaz, when Shadow joins Dark and Light, let Chaos beware.’”

“Oh, that’s your version of it, is it? Thank you,” said Ralthur. “What do you know about the Daykaz?”

“No more than you do,” spat Lazar. “‘The New Dawn can bring down the Red Moon, and she must not become the beloved of Truth.’ Naturally, we have taken every opportunity to put down any female worshipper of any of the cults known as Knights of the Clear Skies, by marrying her forcibly to high ranking Selenites so she is spoiled goods, and we will put an end to the plainsfolk rite of putting their prettiest maiden in a hut for the winter solstice for their Son of Rebirth, who is surely synonymous with Pollonis, god of light and truth. We will raid every village and carry off these girls, and sell them as slaves.”

“Can you be sure that the Daykaz is not already the beloved of truth?” asked Ralthur.

“We know that Pollonis has one bastard but the prophesies around that one, is that he will aid in the revelation of the Daykaz, not that his mother is. She is a stupid and foolish woman, anyway, and Lord Daze has already taken steps to make sure that the sunspawn is ignorant and arrogant with no real skills.”

“I see,” said Ralthur.

“The Pollonis bastards would be gloating if Pollonis was ready to take a bride,” said Lazar.

“And you are certain it’s Pollonis who is named as Truth?” asked Ralthur.

“Who else could it be? His niece, Thyella stands for truth, but she is a female, and the Daykaz is named as female.”

“It might be a, ah, congruence of oysters,” said Ralthur.

Lazar looked panicked. Presumably he had not yet heard that the Celestial Virgin was no longer in that state.

“I... no,” he said. “That’s unlikely for some kind of rising fertility goddess, which is the other reason it can’t be Alethos.  It could be Polos, I suppose, or Librax but it doesn’t seem likely, any more than Thanos. Whoever heard of Death and Fertility combined outside of our own cult? Or are you apostate on the worship of Selen as well as a traitor?”

“I’m with Alethos now,” said Ralthur. “And yes, I dealt with the spirits of retribution from Thanos. He will need new ones. What, cousin, did you think me effete and feeble, or something?”

“Yes,” said Lazar, startled into honesty. “A governor’s position is luxurious, and you don’t have to do much, and I suppose you are degenerate enough to take the trogling to bed and that’s why you freed her so she is no slave, but is loyal to you.”

“Trógling, and no, she is no lover of mine, she has her own,” said Ralthur. “She’s a free trógling and nothing to do with my household.”

“But she served wine!”

“Well, yes, to be able to spy on you,” said Ralthur. “Really, do keep up, old boy. You were having talks with Clodus Mils and Alenna Dren. I thought she was too recognisable to pass, but all you noticed was that she has become shapely with many years good food.  I don’t think you have any more use to me, save as a hostage. Take him out.”

Lazar’s human jailors, grinning, dragged him to a cell usually used to sober up overly celebrant cultists.

 

oOoOo

 

Kaz and Tan sat in the hot, stuffy space under the boat, overheated even as summer turned to autumn,  as Evgon sat with netting tools and looking as if he knew how to use them. The boat was arranged so that Kaz could go and check on the crystal sphere.

“So, uh, if you needed something to do and wanted anyone to give you a good time...” said Tan.

“We have something to do. Wait quietly until Hraazaz needs us,” said Kaz. “You’re her most trusty slave, so she will be glad to see you.  And I have more ability to help her than many a High Toróg.  There’s not a lot we could do under here, anyway.”

“I was thinking we could get it on together,” said Tan.

“You surely don’t mean sex, do you?” said Kaz. “Why on earth do you think I’d lay with a virtual stranger when I already have a lover?”

“You excite me; you are powerful and shapely, and...”

“And unavailable,” said Kaz, firmly. “Keep your hands to yourself, Tan, and you won’t lose either of them.”

“You talk like a mistress,” said Tan, sulkily, snatching a questing hand back.

“Well, yes,” said Kaz. “You chose to remain a slave. I, and Rynn, chose to be free. Now, hush; and if you have the energy, you can stay awake while I catch up on my sleep.”

She rolled over and promptly went to sleep, being well trained.

Tan resented, but did not for one moment think that she was sufficiently deeply asleep to get away with any unauthorised fondling.

 

Kaz was alert at the sound of the first searchers. The other guards would have looked for their fellows at the changing of the guard if not before, and moreover, it would have gone quiet in the tent. Once the two guards and Quirinus Lex were freed, and the torturer found to be dead, and Lazar Kron vanished, someone would have thought to wake Thorus Mils, brother of the late Clodus, and ask for orders.  Mils would have come to look, doubtless made the sign of the crescent at the sight of the mysterious gate drawn on the ground. Then, a good soldier would send out searchers, because nobody knew how far the supposed gate could take people, and there had to have been gossip of previously rescued people having been seen not far away.

Hence, a patrol came upon the boat.

“Hey! Fisherman! Have you seen any trogs or troglings?” barked the officer involved.

“Recently, you mean, your honour?” said Evgon, scratching the back of his head.

“Since last night,” barked the officer.

“Oh! No,” said Evgon, who knew he had seen no trogs or troglings, only a cocooned Toróg and tróglings. “I seen a Darkling once,” he volunteered.

“When? Where?” barked the officer. Evgon scratched his head again.

“Happen that must of been the spring fair,” he said. “He looked mean. I don’t want to see him again.”

“This idiot knows nothing, sir,” said another.

“What’s your name, and where do you live?” barked the officer.

Evgon stared at him in slack jawed incomprehension.

“Why, everyone knows who I am,” he said. “Everyone who counts, that is, which is everyone in Smikropolis.”

“I don’t come from your stinking little fishing village, however, I come from the real world,” snapped the officer.

“Oh, I’m sorry, your honour, if I’d known you had a stick up your arse I’d have saluted it,” said Evgon. “You rely on my stinking little fishing village among others to feed your troops though, so if I was you, I’d not get too excitable. Everyone knows Plutan the Lucky.”

“Well, don’t cross our troops again, Plutan,” said the officer, who knew fine well what would happen to an officer who made the villagers stop selling their wares to their quartermasters. He was well enough aware that the prices had doubled since the siege, but without designating half the army to fish or farm, they had to accept ‘inflation due to war,’ and smile and pay.

Evgon settled back when the soldiers had gone, and broke out food for himself and the two trógling.

“You’re hilarious when you get going, Evgon,” said Kaz. “Is there a Plutan the Lucky?”

“Yes, and he’s a popular fellow. Nobody who was hiding something would be likely to be so rude,” said Evgon.  “It’s safe, I think, to pop out for food and air, and a stretch.”

 

Nothing more exciting happened, and darkness again fell whilst the Selenite army searched futilely for their missing prisoners.

Harkon rowed down river in another boat, to relieve Evgon, and as midnight approached, the crystal womb started pulsing, its blue light becoming achingly white in pulses between quieting to an almost darkened blue. And Kaz sang songs used for birthing as the pulses became faster.