death's knight 18

 

Chapter 18

 

 

As the afternoon wore on, a patrol of Darkling warriors with two greater toróg as part of their entourage, and a dozen or so trógling came down the valley. One of the trógling was armoured, and looked better fed; the rest were cowed and downtrodden, dressed in rags, and armed with simple spears. They did the work of setting up a camp on the broad mushroom meadow.

“Try not to kill the trógling who are not worshippers of Tor,” muttered Harkon.

“I picked up some torógian speech, both when I was a slave, and from Kaz,” murmured Kuros. “I’ll talk to them.”

Harkon nodded agreement; they did not want to talk too much to risk their voices carrying to the sharp-eared toróg.

Before the sun had done more than sink behind the mountains, a cave mouth appeared to open in the face of the cliff that rose above the meadow. Zog sighed a melancholy sigh as a beautiful, but pallid, woman with brown hair stepped out of the cave. She was accompanied by four undead greater toróg in more or less stages of rotting, and a dozen skeletons, mostly darklings, with the odd human and a couple of trógling. There was also an eidolon, a visible spirit, similar to spirits of retribution.

“The guard from below sleep between the two weeks each year, and wake at the command of Tor to accompany her when she leaves his halls,” murmured Zog. “The air is damp, and preserves the nekrosti as a kind of soap.”

Lelyn sniggered.

“Time to use Kaz’s favourite laundry cantrips then,” she said.

“Time to watch and wait,” said Harkon. “I’ll deal with the undead.” The others nodded; they knew that Harkon had powerful cult spells to do so. “Zog, go to Mycota, and lead her away from the fighting. Kuros, collect the trógling. The rest of you, deploy as seems appropriate, and I’ll join you when I can. The eidolon might take some killing.”

Nobody mentioned that a powerful cult spirit was the heaviest challenge of all.

The red moon rose, full, though that made little difference to the undead of Tor. Mycota danced intricate dances in the moonlight, her feet marking circles for the fungi to grow.

The night passed slowly for the watchers. As the sky to the east greyed at its rim, Harkon used prayer to contact Alethos.

“Any time from now on,” he prayed, laconically.

“Kaz would tease me for brevity if I said that,” his god laughed. “She thinks about two hours.”

 

 

oOoOo

 

“So, back the way we came?” said Thyella. “Not waiting or following to see what happens?”

“Thyella, do you want to personally go head to head with Tor here?” asked Kaz. “I expect Alethos got a volunteer to go in spirit form to watch.”

“Oh, right,” said Thyella. “My lightning is a bit weak down here.”

“Funny that, as we’re in the depths of the underworld, not in the sky,” said Kaz.

“You’re the most sarcastic being I’ve ever met,” said Thyella.

“Well, then, you should count yourself lucky not to have encountered anyone so sarcastic before,” said Kaz.

“She’s unsettled; imagine if you and Harkon had got ripped out of his tent right before you started raining on the rest of us?” snapped Rynn, with asperity. “Give her space; she and Alethos have to hold off until she’s officially been cursed.”

“I guess that would make me sarcastic too,” said Thyella. “Friend Hraazaz! You are very quiet. How do you like being in such disparate company as we?”

“It’s unsettling,” said Hraazaz. “I’m a priestess of my beloved mother the moon, but I’m also a trader, and I enjoy the cut and thrust of trading.  Everything was normal until I first met the Daykaz, who killed one of my bodyguard and took two of my trógling. One of whom is an accomplished warrior, and negating all I have ever believed about trógling, as is the Daykaz. I put my life back together, and then I was captured by the Selenites, who normally have no problem with toróg traders, and we hide our hatred of them, because we have to trade. Being tortured to find out about my mission, a mission I did not have, I find myself rescued by one I had thought an enemy, and aided in becoming what I have always dreamed of but never dared think of too hard; and suddenly we are working together. You will understand why I am quiet, whilst I try to get my thoughts and feelings in order.”

“Ah, but fate rewards those who follow her webs and patterns,” said Thyella, a trifle fatuously. “Now, you are greater, and you know that you can train your trógling further than you realised, and that by treating them well and encouraging them to learn, they will be even more loyal to you, and that will give you greater status and power in your clan and with other clans.”

“This is true,” said Hraazaz. “And having ventured to the underworld, I will have bragging rights over other would-be heroines. The strength potion...”

“There will be enough for all of us to have some,” said Kaz. “I never saw myself your enemy, or only in as far as you would have prevented Rynn and Zon from joining me.”

“You got him killed,” said Hraazaz.

“Yes,” said Kaz, with a bite to the end of the word. “He died in my service and gave his life to save mine, but he is assured a resting place with Alethos, and travels with me still, at his own request, as my familiar spirit. And he has been increasing his own kormajeia in helping me deal with undead. Surely your priestly eye can see how brightly he shines?”

“That is Zon? Then he has done well,” said Hraazaz.

“Never say again that Kaz got Zon killed,” said Rynn, marching up to the huge matriarch. “I’d fight you for it.”

“So loyal,” said Hraazaz. “I apologise. I meant to hurt you, Kaz of Alethos, because I feel out of my depth. It was dishonourable of me to do so, and not true blue of me.”

“You get used to it,” said Kaz. “I’ve been out of my depth since I heard the prophesy that I should live forever and desire death, but I’ve learned to live with it, and fumble through the deep passages of the unknown, with friends at my side, it matters little where I am so long as I am going in the right direction.”

“It’s a frightening prophecy, until one realises what it means... I am not accustomed to meeting gods and demigods as a seeming commonplace matter.”

“Alethos broke us into that gently by pretending to be an initiate, and let us supposedly outguess that he was questing for herodom, so it was less pressure; and when he explained it all, I was much relieved,” said Kaz. “I... I remembered a trógling who had displeased his master who was dismembered and healed daily, and thought it would mean something like that.”

“There is no need to practise such wanton cruelty,” said Hraazaz. “Even if trógling were scarcely more than animals as I have always believed.”

“You differ from my mother and her mother then,” said Kaz, with bitter tightness. “Skagarra is coarse of nature and enjoys punishing those trógling unfortunate enough to be born of her womb.”

“That is, unfortunately, true of many,” said Hraazaz. “One is not supposed to acknowledge them, and it is hard to feel any warmth, but to punish them for something they cannot help is wrong. Are you sure she was not just pushing you further as I tried to push Zon and Rynn further?”

“I was on the menu when I ran away, for being too clever,” said Kaz. “They are your get? Then your resentment at Zon’s death is more understandable.”

“I would acknowledge Rynn if she would acknowledge me,” said Hraazaz.

“I don’t know,” said Rynn. “I would have to think about that.”

“I understand,” said Hraazaz. “At least I know better than to serve a trógling to a human trader when the trógling had offended him, as I heard Skagarra did.”

“And I angered her by warning her that it would disgust him,” said Kaz. “Humans find cannibalism disgusting.”

“Cannibalism other than the ritual consumption of those who die by natural causes is disgusting,” said Hraazaz. “Oh. We do not think of eating semi-beasts as cannibalism.”

“And humans consider the eating of any sentient to be cannibalism,” said Kaz.

“Not for the weakest to serve rather than be a drain on society,” said Hraazaz.

“I can understand the reasons behind it,” said Kaz. “But it’s nervous when you’re the one who is going to be eaten.”

“Yes, and if trógling on the whole have the ability to comprehend that, then it is wrong,” said Hraazaz. “I have a lot to ponder.”

“Can’t we leave the subject and sing one of Svargia’s cheerful plains songs where everyone dies but to bright and lively tunes?” asked Rynn.

“Oh, like the one,

Who is the handsome man with the lovely horse?

He is off to the fight in the freedom wars

He will be taken by the red moon troops to serve

Broken in spirit and aged as a slave he will lose his verve,” said Kaz.

“That sort of thing,” said Rynn. “But it reminds them and us why we fight.”

Kaz laughed.

“I understand,” said Thyella. “I’m often over the plains. They call me Pieran, the flash, and I have to appear male. It’s a name considered lucky for their horses. They are a fatalistic people, proud, stoic, brave, and my brother and I love them.”

They tramped back the way they had come, singing. They were well on their way when Kaz was contacted.

“The rampaging geryones have reached Tor’s castle as dawn dances before Solos at the eastern edge of the world,” said Alethos. “Now it is up to Harkon.”

“We will pass back through the gate without tarrying, beloved,” said Kaz.

They continued to Alethos’s halls, and Kaz looked on the marble edifice and turned from it.

It was almost a physical wrench to leave her lover’s domain and to force herself to run through the strangeness that was the gate, and out of the tunnel, twisting over the lip to be standing on the ground in the small room where the pit was locked away from prying eyes.  A lay servant leaped up to open the door for them, bowing as they went through. Alcitha met them.

“Why, Kaz, what is wrong?” she asked, for tears flowed freely from Kaz’s eyes. Kaz shook her head.

“A room for the night, sword sister,” she whispered.  Alcitha put an arm around her, and led her away to guest quarters, Rynn firmly joining her.

Kaz cried herself to sleep whilst the others ate, and Rynn put together a cold meal with a bowl of soup on a charcoal-powered chafing dish for when she awoke.

 

“Rynn, bless you; you take such good care of me,” said Kaz.

“I know how hard it must be for you,” said Rynn. Kaz managed a wicked little chuckle.

“Like iron,” she said.

“Oh, well, if you can joke about it, you’ll survive the parting,” said Rynn.

“I could have sunk myself into his being,” said Kaz, honestly. “And that would be no good for him or for me, never mind the damned prophecy.”

Rynn hugged her friend.

“Phaedros can be a bit overwhelming at times, so I have some idea,” she said.

“And at least he has no idea of how powerful he is,” said Kaz.

 

 

oOoOo

 

“My watcher tells me that Tor himself is engaged on the sport of the hunt of the geryones,” Alethos told Harkon. “Move now.”

“Show time,” said Harkon. “We all know what to do.”

Harkon and his band approached the guards openly as Zog moved to one side to intercept Mycota. Kuros stepped away from the armed group  and moved towards the trógling.

Harkon smiled brightly.

“Hello!” he said.

He was already drawing on Alethos’s power for abjure undead, adding his own power to overwhelm the four big nekrosti and the skeletons.

The two High Toróg lifted their weapons; one favoured a maul, the other an axe. The half dozen darklings fell in with them, and the armoured trógling, whilst the other trógling hesitated, gripping their spears defensively.

“Get out while you can, human scum,” said one of the high toróg. “You don’t know what you’re tangling with.” He couldn’t see the undead behind him; didn’t realise that the skeletons had collapsed into piles of dust or that the soap-monster nekrosti would be unlikely to be needing any laundry cantrips as the dead flesh flowed off their bones before collapsing. That was a powerful spell!  Meanwhile, Harkon had the living to deal with, though some of the darklings were backing away in fear at what had happened to the undead.

“The Hell I don’t,” said Harkon. “You’re the Avalanche Twins, aren’t you?”

“Little human has heard of us but isn’t running away. Is little human stupid, or just rooted to the spot in terror?” asked the other.

“My god doesn’t like you. I don’t like you either,” said Harkon. He was going to die on this mission. But that was not a problem. He felt a pang of regret that he was not with Thyella, but at least she could visit his spirit.

“Alethos, into your hands,” he murmured, as they moved forward, purposefully.

“Remember what spells you know,” said Alethos, irritably. “Your brain is a weapon too.”

“Is it right to use spirit sword on the living not blood suckers?” asked Harkon.

“His spirit can fight back. You face two heroes of Tor; use my power,” said Alethos.

Harkon pointed his sword, and directed the glyph spell at the toróg with the axe; he considered it a deadlier weapon than a maul. His kormajiea slammed into that of the big warrior, shaped like a sword and aimed at the heart of the toróg, an invisible struggle to most. Harkon was aware of Protasion beside him, guarding against the one with the maul, Lelyn backing him up. Polia and Vulk were on his other side, Vulk in wolf form, going for the throat of one of the Darkling warriors. Evgon was aiding Polia with another, and Svargia on another. Kuros was talking to the trógling in their own tongue, taking advantage of them being cowed already by the undead, the toróg, and the daylight. The armoured trógling produced a whip, and threatened them.

“Kill him and come with me,” said Kuros.

At that moment, the high toróg with the axe slumped to the ground; it seemed to break something in the trógling, who turned on their fellow with the whip, and all drove their spears into him at once.  He died very surprised.

Terrified at what they had done, and possible retribution, the trógling huddled together, looking to Kuros for support.

“Move back behind the ridge and wait for me,” snapped Kuros. “There’s a green pack with food in it; help yourselves.”

Anyone who offered food so freely was to be obeyed, and they scuttled away, at least half of them abandoning their spears.

Kuros shook his head and went to back up Svargia.

 

As the big toróg fell to the spirit sword spell, his brother bellowed in rage and raised his maul over Harkon’s head whilst Harkon fell back a step, the spirit of the hero toróg attacking his in retribution.

Harkon could not give any attention to the other toróg and his maul; he could only fight the spirit of the dead hero, preventing it from ripping into his own spirit and reaching his kormajiea. Fortunately, the enraged toróg did not notice Protasion wait for the opportunity to come in with a beautifully timed blow into the toróg’s armpit.

It would have killed a lesser being, but it hurt and distracted the massive warrior, who dropped his maul, which caught Harkon on the shoulder, knocking him to the ground. Harkon tried to ignore the pain. He was aware that he was screaming, partly in anger. He turned his anger on the spirit he was fighting, using the wring cantrip with which Kaz had had such good results on spirits. It seemed to work, and cause the toróg much distress.

And then, the other hero twin was in trouble, as suddenly mushrooms sprouted from his nostrils, ears, mouth, and other parts of his anatomy. He was screaming in a rather muffled sort of way as fruiting bodies and strap-like roots appeared all over his body and he fell to the ground.

Protasion’s sword bloomed in flame to fight the spirit of the other twin and Harkon cursed himself for forgetting the spell. He drew a knife, which would do as well, since his right arm was pinned down under the maul, and activated the spell, hacking at the spirit which attacked him, as a spell could do direct damage. Toval’s spirit had been valiantly aiding him, but Harkon was afraid for his brother against such a vicious and powerful foe.  With Protasion fighting the other, and Mycota and Zog returning, the two notorious toróg heroes spirits fled.

 

death's knight 17

 

Chapter 17

 

“The way to the underworld is just a hole, we keep it in a locked room,” said Alcitha. “I can’t see the bottom; we have rope, but...”

“We just walked it, last time,” said Kaz. “Show me.”

Alcitha led her and her party to a room, just large enough to accommodate a hole in the ground, some eight feet in diameter.

“Just walk forward, dear one,” said Alethos, in Kaz’s thoughts. Kaz walked forward trustingly, heedless of the horrified cries of those behind her, convinced she was walking to certain and needless death.

“Trust our lord,” said Rynn.

 

“Now do you see why I am so happy to embrace Trógling?” said Alethos. “They accept without fear.”

“Truly, I can comprehend your embracing of such loyal followers,” said Solos, only able to see what was happening in another temple for Alethos showing him.

 

Kaz walked onto the thin air of the hole, and found herself rotated around the rim so that she was now standing upright in a long, dark tunnel.  She was joined in short order by Rynn, then Phaedros, Thyella, and Hraazaz.

Kaz sounded the walls; they appeared to be limestone with the odd quartz intrusion. Mostly safe, she assessed, then gave a deprecating wry smile. Wholly safe; they belonged to Alethos.

The small group walked silently along the tunnel, the three with darksense ahead, and Phaedros glowing faintly to help himself and Thyella.  Hraazaz stopped, suddenly.

“What is happening to the tunnel?” she asked. “It’s.... spongy. Like mould, I cannot find a way ahead.”

“You have a greater range than I do,” said Kaz. “Rynn, let us scout.”

“It’s not even spongy,” said Rynn, presently.

“It’s as if our darksense was being.... swallowed,” said Kaz.

“What are you talking about? The tunnel continues,” said Thyella.

“No, it doesn’t, it ends in something so strange that I don’t have words to describe it,” said Kaz. “Spongy is not enough, nor liquid, the closest I can get is like a mouldy rice pudding with a crust on top.”

“Well, I’m going on,” said Thyella.

“No, you aren’t,” said Kaz, seizing the goddess’s cloak. “Harkon will never forgive me if I let his wife plunge into trouble, like some idiot weather deity.”

“I am a weather deity,” said Thyella.

“Yes, but you’re also Harkon’s wife, and he expects better of you,” said Kaz. “Well, I shall put my trust in Alethos and if it is safe, I will come back.”

“Dearest, it is a portal,you can cross it safely,” said Alethos. Kaz blinked.

“Oh!” she said. “I am told it is a portal. Fine, stay in close order and we do this together.”

Kaz had to admit that nothing felt different to her body in walking through the portal, only that she felt she was walking blindly through something which sounded different to the way it felt, even though to her eyes there was no difference, something she found very disorienting, and was aware Rynn and Hraazaz felt as well.

And then the corridor opened into a huge cavern with crystals that rang musically to Kaz’s senses, and waiting before a gigantic pillared hall was Alethos.

Kaz ran to the arms of her beloved. He swung her round in his embrace, then set her down to kiss her.

Kaz surrendered herself to this salute gladly, and Alethos was enchanted; here, in his own territory, his love for Kaz was even more intense than on the outer world, as if their being was closer...

He winced in pain from tiny lightning bolts and a sore shin.

 

“Selen! Alethos is aroused!” Daze cried out in real horror. “What was that prophecy? ‘When Death seeks love, beware of the goddess who will grow from it.’ We may have to move fast... oh, it was but passing. I sense some discomfort.”

Selen sniggered.

“Doubtless the other side have their prophecies too, and he moved in on someone like the celestial virgin and got a knee to the cods,” she said.

“Truth,” said Daze. “That obscure prophecy that there would be the sign that the virgin was no more could have made him think Thyella was a possible bride, and that it was her virginity which was no more, not that she was dead.”

“What a lot she’s missing!” cooed Selen. “But it was a false alarm; make me feel good. Even if he finds someone, even a major god’s child will take a few years to be born, grow up, and become a threat, since it is surely his offspring, a daughter, who will be the goddess meant in the prophecy.”

 

As the whole air seemed suffused with the tensions between Alethos and Kaz, Rynn bit her lip, and went and kicked him on the shin.

“Stop them, it isn’t time!” she said. This prompted Thyella to use a few discharges of lightning to bring Alethos back to himself. He stepped back, still breathing heavily. Rynn knelt.

“You can’t!” she said, tears in her eyes. “I had to stop you!”

Alethos raised her.

“Aye, you did, our good, brave, and loyal friend,” he said. “Thank you; I appreciate it more from a worshipper that you had the courage.  I also thank you, Thyella.”

“I... I feel quite weak,” said Kaz.

“I had not accounted for how things would magnify on my own territory,” said Alethos.

Thyella’s eyes widened.

“I wonder if Harkon would like to ride a stormcloud?” she mused.

“I’m sorry, Kaz; I’ll leave you to travel,” said Alethos. “But someone wanted to greet you.” He moved aside, and a little girl ran into Kaz’s arms.

“Oh, Miss Kaz! I am glad to see you!” she said.

“Why, Iphianira, I am glad to see you too,” said Kaz, suddenly choked. “Where are your parents?”

“They went away,” said Iphianira. “Da didn’t want to worship Alethos, nor anyone, and Ma thought she should be in a sky afterlife, and... well, if you don’t worship Alethos, you can’t really stay. But he was so kind to give us somewhere, so I wanted to stay, and... and I fought to do so. And child souls can be born again, so when you have a baby, can I be yours?”

“Of course, darling; but you will probably forget all about who you were.”

“I want to be with you and Alethos. I never knew my parents very well, anyway,” said Iphianira. “We were well off so I only saw them for an hour a day. I had servants the rest of the time.”

“I see,” said Kaz. “Then if child souls can be reborn if they wish, when I am ready, I will be honoured.”

“I don’t want to remember the years of being a ghost,” whispered Iphianira. “We died so frightened, running away from the mountain chasing us, and I think it hurt, and then we were trapped, frightened for ever, until you came and led us somewhere we could be safe, and... and not trapped in eternal fear. Those who left are ungrateful.”

“Was it many?” asked Kaz.

Iphianira considered.

“No, I don’t think so,” she said. “I suppose some people are never satisfied.”

Kaz hid a smile, suspecting that the child quoted a nanny.

“I have to leave you, now; I have a job to do,” she said.

Iphianira nodded, gravely.

“Thank you for visiting. I will not keep you from duty,” she said. Kaz kissed her, and turned to her group of fellow travellers.

“Now let us look for Geryones,” she said. “I find I have a map in my head, a gift from Alethos.”

“Let us drink our fill here, where the water is good, and not start yet on our trail rations,” said Phaedros.

“A wise idea,” said Kaz. Indeed, they ate as well as drank, and rested, for though short, the journey had taken much energy as their heart’s power was used to make the portal work.  And Kaz reluctantly led them out, loath to be away from the sense of her love’s presence, where it infused the very stones.

 

 

The underworld was a strange place to those used to surface dwelling, some caves of rock, or crystal, and some beautiful caverns with spires and columns made of stalagmites and stalactites,  though there were places where crystal arching overhead held light refracting back and forth from fissures or from the sun’s passage past the gates of dusk and dawn, at utter west and utter east, and night’s rest between; but however it came, light was trapped long enough in the crystal to shine like a hazy sky, until the light was renewed daily. Under it, a kind of grass grew.

“My cousin, Lupeia, who was killed by the birth of the chaos monsters to the blue moon, is one of the grain goddesses, and presides over growing things like grass in the underworld,” said Thyella. “The Selenites call her Tristania.”

“Why they have to change names I do not know,” grumbled Kaz. “Is that a herd of geryones? They are huge!”

The three-headed cattle towered over the two trógling.

“Let me make some sweeter grass,” said Phaedros.  “When they come over, the three of us who are larger will hold one at a time for you to milk them, and then hold the bull to take some of his blood; one of us for each head.”

“The plainsfolk control their cattle by holding them by the nostrils,” said Thyella. “It is wise to do this before we must stampede them. They are noble beasts.”

Phaedros glowed brightly, and knelt to touch the sparse grass, tenderly speaking to it as it reached for his light. Rynn used her folding shovel to add and disperse dung left by the cattle, and Kaz fetched water from a pool, which showed signs of hoofs, suggesting it to be sweet water. The grass had stretched up but looked a little wan and spindly until the nutrients were washed into its roots, when it began to take on a lush, rich green.

“Oh, is that what it needs? I did not know,” said Phaedros.

“Nothing can grow without food and drink,” said Rynn.

“I can live on light for a while,” said Phaedros.

“Yes, dear one, but you are a demigod,” said Rynn. “The rest of us need more conventional sustenance.”

“Actually, after all that effort, I’m hungry,” said Phaedros, plaintively. Rynn silently passed him a spicy plainsman beef pasty, which they kept as trail rations, the pastry being water pastry so it lasted longer.

The geryones were wary, but not stupid; they came over towards the patch of sweet grass.

“Now all we have to do is milk them,” said Rynn. “I’ve milked goats.”

“I’ve never milked anything, but how hard can it be?” said Kaz.

She discovered the answer to this when hit in the eye by a spurt of milk.

“It isn’t as easy as it looks,” said Kaz, chagrined. “I’ll learn, though.”

They had brought bottles for milk and blood, with cantrips of unbreakability, and stasis spells on the stoppers.  The bull of the herd roared, steam coming out of all six nostrils.

“I don’t fancy grabbing that by the nostrils,” said Phaedros.

The bull roared again.

“Don’t be a big show-off,” said Kaz, marching up to the bull, which seemed uncertain what to do with this small creature. He pawed the ground, and put down his middle head, as if to charge, though the other heads were still warily looking out.

“Soap,” said Kaz, repeating it twice more. The bull reared, pawing the air, then came down, shaking all its heads to try to get rid of the taste. Kaz cast a numbing cantrip on its centre neck and a cutting cantrip, and tripped in to put her collecting jar underneath the flow of blood, skipping out sharply when it was full, before the soap dissipated, and healing the cut.

“Insane,” said Rynn.

“But it worked,” said Kaz.

“Dear one? I have word from Harkon. A diversion in the next hour or two would be desirable”

“How long are we from Tor’s stronghold?”

“The cattle are a little over an hour away. You’d take longer, but all you have to do is get them going.”

“Thyella? I have word to shift them in that direction about now,” said Kaz. “A bit of noise and lightning directly behind that direction and some zaps to the bull’s rump should do it.”

“On it,” said Thyella. A lightning bolt where Kaz indicated got the attention of the herd, and they started a lumbering run. A few more gathered them together, and a personal if small lightning bolt on the bull’s backside took the lumbering run into a stampede.

“Now what?” asked Phaedros.

“Now we go home,” said Kaz. “Nothing we can do with the herd now; if anything turns them, Harkon won’t get his diversion, but there you go.”

“Can’t we cheat, somehow?” said Rynn.

“I thought you Alethosi didn’t cheat?” said Thyella.

“We don’t – when it’s real cheating, which is to say, doing down someone else,” said Kaz. “In war, it’s just called increasing advantages. I suspect, sensing the terrain ahead, we already have one. Hraazaz, am I right in thinking they just funnelled into a valley?”

“Yes,” said Hraazaz. “It should take them exactly where they are going.”

 

oOoOo

 

Harkon and his party faced no trouble on their journey; a heavily armed band of Alethosi including a High Toróg and several members in iron was not the sort of group any outlaws would tangle with willingly; nor any normal patrol of toróg. 

The place where Mycota was wont to emerge was marked by the sacrifices left by largely female toróg, grateful for the gift of fungi in the open world, where their fruiting was stimulated by sunlight.

“Of course, the best fungi were sparked by the light of the blue moon; fungi like blue light,” said Zog. “Nowadays, in the fungus caverns, blue lamps are hung up, but the fungi never reach the size of those which grew beneath the Blue Moon.”

“Hopefully our endeavours will restore her,” said Harkon,

“My mother has understood now that her instinct at first to kill a trógling prophesied to bring change is not necessarily the correct response,” said Zog.

“Good,” said Harkon. “She’d come up against Alethos himself.”

“This, she understands, now,” said Zog.  “We all want to be rid of the curse, but I cannot see Tor willingly releasing Mycota to bring on the time of severing.”

“Which is why we are taking her by force,” said Harkon. “When is she due to arrive?”

“Just before sundown, to assist the beginning growth which will increase overnight and complete at dawn,” said Zog.

“Will we have time to gather some?” asked Protasion. “Kaz does wonderful things with mushrooms, even dried ones.”

“Maybe,” said Harkon. “Honestly! Haven’t you outgrown thinking with your belly, yet?”

“No,” said Protasion. “And Kaz does things with makarones and a white cheesy sauce with mushrooms and onions in that’s to die for, even without meat.”

“We did bring bags,” said Lelyn. “It’s as well to have extra provender when we can get it.”

“Why me?” asked Harkon. “Fine, we’ll see what happens; and we rest now. We need to let Mycota wake the fungi and rescue her after dawn has come.”

 

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.