Death's Knight 5

 

Chapter 5

 

“How many men did you leave securing the barracks, and what have you done with the prisoners?” asked Pythas of Xanthos and Erippion.

They stared at him.

“What do you mean, securing the barracks?” said Erippion.

“Well, judging by the way you were celebrating, you considered it a victory,” said Pythas. “Did you then kill all the Selenite soldiers, that you did not feel a need to leave a guard force in charge?”

“It was a raid; we went through looking for the hostages, and when we did not find them, we withdrew,” said Xanthos.

“And you call yourself a soldier?” said Pythas, in scorn. “Always secure your position when you withdraw! You have left the enemy behind you; how do you know they are not retaliating in your temple or on other townsfolk right now? I don’t expect a follower of Windybreeches to have much in the way of discipline, but I expect the followers of Pollonis to be actually capable of warfare, not tribal raiding.”

“Hey! You’re insulting my god!” said Erippion.

“Your god could prove me wrong by making people like you work with the rest of us against the Blood Moon, instead of getting windy about individual insults,” said Pythas. “We need to remember who the enemy is, and you Skyhealers need to get a grip on which chaos is evil, and which is curable. Remember, killing an enemy is one up; making an enemy into an ally is two up. We now have unparalleled night fighters in our Wolfen, and a highly-trained army of trógling wolf-riders, who have everything to fight for.”

“Trógling wolf-riders? Good to send out to be slaughtered and nothing…awp!” Erippion’s ear was pinned to the high back of his chair by Kaz’s knife.

“Trógling are fast, can operate in total darkness, and are fanatical in our worship of Alethos who promises us somewhere to go in death other than the eternal torture at the hands of the Trickster,” said Kaz. “Trógling lives matter, you big windbag, and your god also accepts my people and protects them, so try talking to him from time to time instead of wanking your own ego.”

“You are fined for drawing weapon in the council chamber, Glyph Lord Kaz,” said Chrysandion.

Kaz bowed.

“Of course. I apologise. I am sick of hearing my people denigrated by idiots,” she said. “We are a slave race and raised to cringe, but some of us can get over that. Moreover, though we are born of darkness, those of us who are free appreciate mighty Solos and his light, which gives life to all. We are creatures not of dark but of shadow.”

“Xanthos, I want to see you helping to train trógling spearmen,” said Chrysandion. “And go right now to secure the Selenite barracks. You have become complacent; but we are now on a war footing, and leading the free world.”

“Yes, my lord,” said Xanthos, who bowed to no man but the leader of his god’s father’s temple. He did not want to have Pythas placed over him as general, but had a sneaking suspicion that the old Alethosian had forgotten more about warcraft than he had ever learned, in a world where policing the streets was the main occupation of his cult, and keeping aloof from the Selenite occupation force. “How long have you been planning this moment, Pythas?” he asked.

“Since the Selenites moved in because we could not get a consensus between the cults to fight them,” said Pythas.

“Shit,” said Xanthos.

“Yes; and we’ve taken too much of it, and whatever our differences, we know who to blame.”

“Hell, yes!” said Erippion. “I forgive your knife, trógling, but will you please remove it?”

Kaz came and did so, absently healing his ear.

“The name is Kaz,” she said. “Or Daykaz if you go by prophecy.”

The sun-seer sat up straight.

“Death’s knight comes from the shadows to lead the oppressed to overwhelm the blood wolf and tear down the maze of the Riddler. Only by a quest through time can the curse which is a blessing be spoken, for the curse was made with the idea, and the idea was made flesh, and the flesh became ideal and the ideal will be blessed by the curse.”

The chime made everyone but Kaz and Pythas jump.

“I do wish seers could manage to say things straight,” said Kaz.

“Dear me, how very singular,” said Chrysandion. “What was that chime?”

“It’s Fate’s way of saying that I was a good little game-piece to say the right thing to set a seer off,” said Kaz, with a grimace. “Like it or not, we are beings of shadow and Pollonis is just going to have to accept that.”

“What is all this about curses and blessings?” demanded Chrysandion. “You don’t seem surprised.”

“I’ve been getting used to being the object of prophecy for nearly four years, my lord,” said Kaz. “The Daywalker brings in a new dawn, with joy for the cursed, and the ending of curses, the healing of the land and the moon. The Daywalker brings death, and truth, and life, andlove; and she shall be cursed to live forever and desire Death; but the curse shall become a blessing, indeed,”

“Most singular indeed,” said Chrysandion.  “Live forever and desire Death! Can this be like the constellation of the Old Man?”

“I know its meaning,” said Kaz. “I embrace my fate with acceptance and thank Alethos for being my god. Incidentally, we secured all those whom we did not kill at the execution ground.  And it is my advice to disarm the lot of them and throw them barefoot and with one cloak each only to make their way back to some other barracks. By the time they get there, most of them won’t be in fighting shape.”

“It’s a way to get rid of them,” said Pythas.

“I agree,” said Chrysandion. “Let it be done, and also to those taken at the barracks,” he added.

 

oOoOo

 

The long, sorry column of Selenites included the wounded; and there were carts for the immobile which were harnessed to the fitter members of their fellows. Some swore vengeance, some were just amazed that the rule of the Selenites was being rejected by the locals, who should be grateful for such enlightened rule and contact with civilisation. They were laughed at. Their horses were confiscated.

“We shoved them out of the East gate onto the road to Agorakome, but if I was them, I’d divert north to Kallos,” said Kaz. “It’s two thirds the distance and if they got to Kallos, they could warn the garrison there that they are now cut off from the Empire. And if I were the Kallosian governor, I’d pull everyone out of Kallos to try to re-take Mesolimnos, which is strategically more important, controlling trade from the plains and from the biggest iron mines in the world. Not to mention the controlling of the port on Lake Hudrogeminas and therefore all the trade from the Toróg mountains. Kallos may have the northern trade and a lot of fish, but it doesn’t go anywhere without going through Mesolimnos.”

“I’ll have the wolves watch them,” said Pythas. “It’s as well they don’t have a leader who thinks like you.”

“At the moment, nobody has asserted himself as leader, and they are too shocked to think,” said Kaz. “It’s a shame the Commandant  of Alethos in Kallos is an idiot; if they only followed our example it would be good.”

“I fancy Alethos is going to have a word with him; and Erppion has taken a ship to Kallos to speak to his counterpart there. The Selenite hold on Kallos is going to be disrupted if the Knights of the Clear Starlight get going, without being able to call on the garrison here.”

Kaz sniggered.

“And that might be their first intimation that we kicked them out.”

“And don’t forget, we only succeeded because of a lot of collaboration, and the anger of the townsfolk over the high-handed seizure of hostages. I believe a lot of Selenite soldiery billeted in the city were dragged in, well beaten once it became apparent that there were battles being won,” put in Harkon.

“I think I need to speak to LightfatherChrysandion,” said Kaz. “And something tells me I need Harkon with me; I want to petition Solos directly.”

“I’ll pass your request; the Solosians do like their protocols to be followed,” said Pythas.

 

It was a few days later that Kaz and Harkon walked into the temple of Solos, and Kaz reined in her temper at some of the most unpleasant comments about dirty creatures of darkness.

They were shown, unwillingly, to Chrysandion’s office.

“I agreed to see you as you are a creature of prophecy,” said Chrysandion. “What is it?”

“Good, I am glad you are willing to come to the point,” said Kaz. “I need to directly petition Mighty Solos and his son Pollonis, about my people since we don’t want to be considered as Toróg and object to being called creatures of darkness.”

“Out of the question!” snapped Chrysandion.

“So, you want the Selenites and Daze to win?” asked Kaz. “I thought you were pledged to oppose them?”

“We are. And we don’t need the dubious aid of ….”

“Of the Daykaz? Don’t you have any writings about the Dawning?” asked Kaz.

“Well, yes, we are awaiting the birth of the Daykaz….”

Kaz gave him an impatient look.

“Are you blinding your common sense more than your seers blind their mundane sight?” she asked. “I am Daykaz. And your prophecies surely mention that aid to me will see success and failure to aid will end in disaster?”

“I… but we were expecting a child of one of the Sunlings,” said Chrysandion. “But I sense truth in your speech….”

“Just get Harkon and me to the Godplane in front of Solos and then we’ll do your thinking for you,” said Kaz.

“Tact, Kaz,” said Harkon.

“I’ve had enough of insults from these self-righteous ego-shiners,” said Kaz. “I want to go right to the top, without the interference of fumbling intermediaries who let a little power go to their heads and displace thought with the dizzying power of being able to say ‘no’ to people. I’m tempted to say, let’s go home and ask Alethos to take us. It’s no point trying to be polite to those with closed minds and constipated thought processes.”

“Glyph-Lord, you are not going out of your way to make friends,” said Chrysandion.

“When I get the impression you don’t care to be friends, are you surprised?” said Kaz, bitterly. “I’ve had enough of prejudice just because I’m small, and because most trógling are weak and ineffectual. I’m not going to cringe and beg. I have as much right to exist as you do.”

Chrysandion gave a rueful smile.

“I like your pride, you stiff-necked Alethosian, you. I will pray to my god and prepare him for your petition, and then I will take you.”

Kaz bowed.

“Thank you, then; and I apologise for thinking that I could not reach you. I have had to listen to some very hurtful comments from your underlings, some of whom are definitely not as scrupulous of their cleanliness as I am, yet call me dirty.”

“I am sorry that this prejudice stands; I will be having words. I will have my brother brought to assist my prayers; Solos thinks much of his Sun-Seers, and will listen to him, too.”

 

 

 

 

Taught the proper forms of worship to participate in prayer to Solos, Harkon and Kaz performed the ritual which enabled their spirits to leave their bodies and stand in the Halls of Everlasting Light. Here, the god Solos sat on his golden throne, raised above those around him by several steps. Pollonis stood protectively at its base, and various lesser gods and goddesses made up the premier god’s court. Kaz dropped to one knee and bowed her head, before rising to make her petition.

“Mighty Solos, my petition is in two parts; and the first part is for your people and those of Pollonis to stop classifying trógling as creatures of the dark. We want our freedom from the Toróg, and for which I quest, to make us a separate race; we are neither as much creatures of darkness as the Toróg, nor are we fully creatures of light like humans, being weaker in our senses in either environment, but able to cope in both. More, we are creatures of shadow, and I will have to learn and make a new glyph for that…” she tailed off as the usual chime from Fate informed her that this was a good idea. She grimaced. “As you have heard, Lord Solos, Fate likes that idea, so I hope you will do so, too. It gives my people more places for refuge than my own god.”

“I do not comprehend this… Shadow,” said Solos.

“It sits between light and dark,” said Kaz.

“Let me,” said Harkon. “Mighty Solos, we forgot that a shadow is something you have never seen and will never see.  When rays of light strike an object, all that is behind that object is obscured from the light, but because there is always some light, reflecting into the part obscured, it is not dark, but shaded. Perhaps you will look into my mind and perceive shadows cast?”

“Canst thou take the weight of a god’s mind in thine?” asked Solos.

“I am sworn to support Kaz, the Daykaz; and if my mind is forfeit in showing you what she means, then it is a good trade. But I believe I can support it,” said Harkon.

“It were better that he should read my mind; I will not have you sacrifice yourself,” said Kaz.

“I stand with Harkon, to aid him,” said Alethos, coming forward. “I can visit here, and help out.” He brushed Kaz’s cheek with his hand.

“I like loyalty,” approved Solos.

His mind was indeed heavy in Harkon’s, but Harkon was used to feeling the press of his own god’s mind. He concentrated on the cast shadows of Kaz and those near to him.

“How extraordinary! Logical, of course, but we do not see what we do not comprehend. Thou hast given me knowledge this day,” said Solos. “I will consider access to my cult and that of my son for those Trógling who eschew the darkness.” There was much murmuring, not all of it friendly.

“You will receive many who will see it as a rebellion against the Toróg,” said Kaz, “And it will limit the power of the Trickster, who takes those souls who do not wish to worship Toróg gods. I thank you.”

“And the second part of the petition?” asked Solos. “I have not forgotten that thou hast enough impudence to ask more than one boon.”

“Mighty one, the second part will be to your benefit also,” said Kaz. “Your seer, Erytheon Sun-Toucher made a prophecy about me. It involves, as I understand it, travel or projection through time to a particular point. As the sun marks time for all, it seemed to me that your temples might contain rituals.”

“Such rituals were lost with the Cataclysm,” said Solos. “It is possible that some writings remain in temples in the  Ghostlands which may aid you. If thou wilt take a contingent of my people I grant thee leave to search my temples there, and bring back knowledge. Thy god has imparted that thou hast done so for thine own temple.”

“My thanks, mighty Solos,” said Kaz, bowing again. She wished that the female Sunlings, as the descendants of Solos were known, would not giggle together.

And then they were back in the temple.

“Thank you, Chrysandion,” said Kaz.

The chime sounded again.

“I believe you are welcome,” said Chrysandion, shaken.

 

Kazverse updated glossary

 

Glossary to Kaz’s world

 

Magic -  magic is common. Anyone can learn to perform magic, and many people do, even if only day-to-day cantrips.  The use of magic is dependent on the magical power of the caster, which can be exhausted, and requires rest to restore it. An average person might manage ten common spells a day before exhaustion; one or two deep spells is enough to bring most people to total exhaustion, which also expresses itself as physical exhaustion.

 

Types of Magic

Cantrips -  common, everyday magic such as is used for folding linen, or small cleansing spells, smell removal, banishment of small amounts of  rubbish, breath-freshening, digging out weeds.

Spells -harder to learn, but still anyone may learn them. Some are secret or unique to a particular cult, some forbidden by some cults, and if progressing within a cult to initiation, will be wiped from the memory by the god involved. [Athelos will not permit spells with a bludgening effect; he is death, the sword, and a piece of two-by-four is beneath his notice as a weapon.]

Glyph/God magic -  these spells may be at the use of anyone who has been initiated into a cult or of Glyph rank, but as one-use spells to anyone below glyph-rank since they are cast using godly power, and to do so is beyond the use of  ordinary mortals, though those high in their cult’s favour can channel them. Being tied to a god at this level also permits the use of magic with the wearing of iron, which normally interferes with any magic cast.

 

Glyph,– mystical symbols which may be used to form writing or to hold a singular meaning, used to scribe spells and magical effects. Only the most powerful can use Glyphs, which are god-magic. The use of magic through glyphs may be granted to the favoured of a god, those known as glyph-rank, whose training has ensured that they may channel such powerful spells. To possess, ie understand and be tied to, glyphs  is to possess real power, and is the beginning of the path to herodom or even to becoming a minor deity.  A glyph-lord holds personally the glyph of control, showing that he or she is at one with his or her body, and may meditate to perform above the level of  what is usually considered humanly possible [cf Miyamoto Musashi in our world whose body control was so great that he could balance a mat on rice straws, and then climb onto it without it collapsing.] A glyph-priest holds personally the rune of magic to facilitate channelling god magic. Holding both is the key to starting herodom.

 

Runes –  mystical symbols which may be used to form writing or to hold a singular meaning, used to scribe spells and magical effects.  May be used by anyone knowledgeable, though it is rare as even common writing is rare.

 

Sigils – A combination of mystical writings in a particular pattern to provide a particular effect. Can be learned by anyone like runes, but need someone of more than average magical power to activate.

 

Wards – sigils, runes, or glyphs of warding, to protect an area, which may send a warning, or release a guardian spirit to attack intruders, or merely prevent certain types of person from passing.

 

Races - the most common race is humanity. Easterlings have pointed ears and flatter faces, but are still human.  The other major pre-chaos races are:

 

Toróg.  They are the children of Luna/Rogaz, the blue moon, and Tor, god of darkness, death, and berserkers. Originally, every female was six-breasted and fertile, their silver hair shining like moonlight, and priestesses able to take a switch of hair to make into a light like the moon in the dark caverns, or weave it into ritual cloth, or lay into stone in patterns of glyphs. In those days, the glyph of the moon was a circle divided into two white curved drops of sacred water. Now, one is black to signify the coming of Entropy and Chaos into the world, when Luna was raped by the ravening wolf from Outside. Because it was not natural, she was diminished by the birth of her chaos-infested twins, Selen, the red moon, and Daze, the trickster, lord of illusions, mirages, and misdirection. With this weakness, lesser Toróg were born, the Darklings, who are now the most common, and whose females never have more than four breasts and their hair is usually dark blue, and whose males consider themselves equal to females. The ritual performed by the High Priestesses to try to rectify this was unsuccessful, bringing forth only the Greater Toróg, all male, all stupid, slate grey rather than blue, but very strong. And the ritual was to take power back from Selen, and she and Daze conspired to put a curse on the Toróg, so that three in five births are now the diminished form of Trógling.

The Toróg are essentially a matriarchal theocracy which is concentrated in loose tribal organisation, with a High Toróg priestly council which meets from time to time. The one political truth that the Toróg group agree on is that they only like outsiders if they are on the menu. Toróg predate humans, but are very resistant to change, ironic considering the many sub-races which have arisen.

 

Hamae are a race of shy and secretive forest folk. They have associations with the trees, and some, the dryads, live entirely within the trees. They tend to keep themselves to themselves, but occasional forest communities are found to hold Hama blood, being a way the Hamae find to protect themselves, by making the locals kindred rather than killing them outright, as there is interfertility. If encountered, they tend to the mischievous and are fond of playing jokes. They hate Daze and all his works as tainted mischief.

 

Chaos races – formed when the birth-blood of Luna fell to earth giving birth to her chaotic godly twins.  Lycoids, or werewolves were formed when a goat-herd defended his goats from a wolf, which also gave rise to the Tragosti, or goat-men, who are neither strongly chaotic nor free of taint, and have no protector. Lycoids carry diseases including lycanthropy and hydrophobia and distemper.  Other odd fusions are ‘ducks’ or Marsh-Creepers, a synthesis of man, lizard, and bird, barely sentient, and malevolent; Androsaurs, lizard-men, secretive and convinced that they are the spawn of mythical dragons and destined to become such; and Blood-suckers, or vampires, not strictly a race, but definitely chaotic.

Other chaotic beings may be encountered, often one of a kind, as well as chaos animals.

 

Political divisions

The story mainly covers the region of Limnestos, the region of city states, which is broken into greater and lesser city states of more or less power.  The Selenite empire is a large, bureaucratic empire which has overrun many smaller states, suppressing what they consider to be seditious gods or practices, as they hope to do in Limnestos. To the east is another ancient bureaucratic empire, which has little to do with outsiders. In the North, in the region of the Depression, petty kinglets fight, ally, make marriage settlements, break treaties, and occasionally band together for a war-ride to grab loot. The Selenites consider them to be barbarians, like the plainsfolk.

 

Religion – Religion permeates everyday life as there are gods and goddesses covering most aspects of life, as well as minor deities who protect families, religious places, markets, and so on; much akin to the Kami of Japan, and often tied to a particular place.  Their power is usually limited, but may provide enough for warding, for example.

The principle god is Solos, the sun, and his wife, Zea, fertility. They have a number of children, principal of whom is Pollonis, the face of Solos, keeper of Justice, guarding, and inspiration. He has a son, Polos, god of Knowledge. Other children of Solos and Zea are the grain goddesses, principal of whom is Nevra, the goddess of rain, who is married to Anemois, God of Winds. Their children, Zephyra, Boros, Notos, and Yuros are the four directional winds, Ombros is god of storms, and Thyella, the Celestial Virgin, is goddess of lightning and wildfire. Solos has also fathered a selection of stars, some of whom have once-mortal lovers placed in the sky as constellations to be with them. Also his daughters are Eaxis and Dysis, dawn and sunset. Their children are Polaros, the northern star, and Hespa, the star of evening, children of Eaxis, and Astros, the dusk before moonrise, son of Dysis. Zeandine is a goddess of spring and lust, and Secalia, a grain goddess. 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.”

 

Other deities include Alethos, who represents both truth and death, a stern warrior’s god, and his sister Latrika, the healer. Phrodine is the goddess of love, in all its forms, and maintains sacred prostitutes, whose establishments are marked with green lamps, and are guaranteed free of disease. Many believe that Alethos, Latrika, and Phrodine are as ancient as Solos, and as powerful, as they represent primal powers. Their mother is Moraia, Fate.  They represent the Healing Trio, who quested to bring healing to the weather gods during their time of insanity after the collapse of the blue moon wrought such damage to the earth that civilisations fell, and refugees fled across the desert to start again at the new lakes made by the craters of falling rocks.  The weather gods, wracked by chaotic forces, roamed the desert in panic and wild outburst until the Trio forced them into one area of roiling maelstrom and drew them out, and brought them comfort, one by one.

The weather gods are therefore particular enemies of the Blood Moon and are collectively known, as are their followers, as Knights of the Clear Starlight or Knights of the Clear Skies. Alethos is contemptuous of them, as they have no idea how much light the Blue Moon used to bring to the world at night, making the stars pale before her brilliance, and hiding those behind her disk at any one time as she progressed regally through the heavens from the ending of sunset to the beginning of dawn. There are those things which, in their madness, they have forgotten.

Knights of the Clear Skies, aka Skyhealers are required by cult dogma to address chaos with poetry before attacking, as their challenge.

“Cursed by chaos, shunned by light

Whimper now at my despite!

Turn and flee from my demand

Or I will kill you where you stand!”

 

Merkedes is the trader’s god, and some say that a hero of his, Kleptos, is god of those who like to trade goods without giving any returns, and who work at night without their trading partner’s permission. Kyrios is the smith of the gods, and is an associated god of Alethos, though also venerated by other warrior cults and farming cults alike.

 

Gods of the plainsfolk

Though the plainsfolk venerate Solos, they give their main veneration to Father Sky and Mother Land. Theologists argue that Father Sky is synonymous with Solos, and their worship of the sun is that of Pollonis, giver of light. Their other gods are Father Horse, or the Skyhorse, who also brings storms, and his son, Pieran, the Flash, which is Thyella. Also there are Father Bull, Mother Cow, and the Son of Rebirth, whose abilities and gifts change with the seasons. Sacrifices from the best of the season are made to him, and on the shortest day the prettiest girl in the village is led to a special hut to tempt him out of the underworld to bring back spring. She spends the night there, along with mead, cider, bread and salt. The girl is locked in the hut, and if she returns to the village pregnant it is considered the best of good luck, for the Son of Rebirth has visited her.

 

Toróg gods

Luna/Rogaz is the principal deity; Luna the spiritual and moon-face aspect, and Rogaz, the physical aspect and mother of the Toróg.  The two aspects were ripped apart by the rape of the Blue moon by the Wolf from Beyond, and they cannot now join to bless fertility as they used to.

However, Rogaz can bless the most powerful of her Darkling priestesses, if they will risk rebirth into High Toróg with a 24 hour magical ritual in a stone womb, at which they either emerge changed into a High Toróg, or have died. In practise, no more than one in five who attempt rebirth survive it, which is why it is not a ritual to be entered lightly. No Darkling with fewer than four breasts has ever survived it, and there appears to be a correlation between those with darker skin and lighter hair surviving, carrying more traits of the rare High Toróg.

Tor is god of death, darkness, and berserker power. He revels in death and gore, and is happy to use the bodies of the slain as zombies and skeletons to guard places, something anathema to Alethos, the principal human god of death.  The two are great enemies and have fought battles, including one in which Tor wounded Alethos in the thigh.

Kazynn is the child of Rogaz, father unclear, who is known as midwife; she is also goddess of healing, and euthenasia of those Trógling babies too weak to live, and who separates the souls of trógling killed for the table, so that souled beings are not killed for food. Any already dead don’t count.

Zog is the twin of Kazynn, and is god of rocks and soil. He works closely with his mother, disappointed by the loss of Mycota whom he had admired from afar.

Mycota is a daughter of Solos, and consort, unwillingly, of Tor. Kidnapped by him, she was tricked into trying a snack which bound her to his hospitality. Heroes quested to rescue her, but the best that could be achieved was that she might return to earth for the Autumnal months, to make sure that fungi are renewed in the earthly realms, as well as growing them underground for the feasting of Tor’s warriors. They have two daughters, Toxia, or Zhargul, goddess of poisons, and Fthysia, or Ekzynn, goddess of decay.

 

Hamae gods

The Hamae worship spirits of the forest, notably Phusia, goddess of primal nature, and her daughters Naphaea, Dendra, and Agria. [They are fathered by Rhe, god of rivers, who has many offspring, usually worshipped locally by whichever race they interact with.]

 

Chaos gods

The two principle chaos gods are Daze, and his twin, Selen, the Blood Moon, whose monthly phases have usurped the natural breeding cycle of human women, and whose flux may give her power. Selen is the face of the chaotic cults, and heroes of hers are the face of a mockery of the principal cults of pre-chaos. Thanus is her warrior champion, once named to celebrate an early name for Alethos, but apostate to his former god in his love for the red goddess. Selen herself covers love and fertility aspects of life, with Librax, her god of knowledge and learning, and Klerus, god of traders. Selen has no truck with weather magic, as most of the weather gods are her deadly enemies.

Daze is a god of illusion.  His followers try to draw others into traps by using riddles to make them look into the face of illusion. If too addicted to such enigmas, it would take a divine intervention to release anyone from his insidious use of their worship power, diverting it from their usual deity. He is also a god of thieves, though many thieves will not give him even lip service. What is unknown to most is that he also feeds on the agonies of enslaved Trógling, and snares their souls if they die without worship of any other god.

Daze and Selen are lovers as well as siblings, and have a son, Lycos, god of werewolves, and Aima, the Bleeding Daughter, who is goddess of the Blood-suckers or vampires. She seduces power-hungry humans into her worship with promise of eternal life, great strength, and much magical power. To be glyph-level in her cult, they must sacrifice their lives ritually and have their souls bound back into their bodies. 

 

Temple seniors

The senior member of a temple is typically both Glyph-Lord and Glyph-Priest, which one coming first tending to depend on which is considered more important for the cult. The leader of each cult’s temple usually has a special name to differentiate their leaders.

Solos – Lightfather

Pollonis – Ray

Polos – Librarian

Zea – Earthmother

Ombros – Thundermaster

Thyella – Fulminatrix

Alethos – Commandant.  Glyph-Lords may also be known as Hands of Alethos, Priests as Tongues of Alethos, and Initiates as Swords of Alethos, or informally, Swordbrothers/sisters.

Latrika – Healer-in-chief                       

Phrodine – Adoratrix

Merkedes – Guildmaster

 

 

Money

Different countries have different currencies but largely speaking the denominations are sufficiently similar to be honoured. I give the coinage of Limnesthos and some other coins to be found.

Solestos pl. Solesti – a golden coin. Vulgarly, Sol or Sols.  Five golden coins a year is about the usual pay of labourers and low class servants, who also either have some perquisites, or keep a small-holding, or have their keep paid; ten solesti is about the yearly living cost. A professional will garner some 30-90  solesti a year.

Pent, pl. Penti, five Hydri or ¼ Solestos.

Hemi-Pent, half a pent, two and a half Hydri, 25 chalcos                   

Hydra, pl. Hydri, a silver coin, 20 of which make up a solestos.

Hemi-hydra, half a hydra.

Chalco, a copper coin, ten to the hydra, or 200 to the solestos.

Hemo, half a chalco

Tetart, a quarter of a chalco

There are also two- and three- chalco pieces.

 

A Moon is the Selenite equivalent of a Solestos, minted from red-gold, and not accepted by many people. The Plainsfolk call the gold coin a Gilder.

An Imperial is a Selenite silver coin approximately equivalent to the Pent; the plainsfolk also have a similar coin they call the Calf, and the easterners have something similar called a ring, which has a hole through it, but is the same weight in silver. All easterner coins have holes in them, and are strung on strings to the value of higher amounts.

 

 

Toróg money - Torog count money in bars, and use bronze not copper. A bronze bar is worth about the same as a Pent, and is moulded in divisions to break apart into ten. Each piece of bar is worth about five chalcos. They tend to use barter for smaller quantities.

 

Hamae – Hamae have no money and consider the whole concept ridiculous. If they pay in coin, it will be found to be an illusion. They literally do not understand that losing money can be a matter of life or death to humans, and despise their dependency on stupid tokens.

 

 

Days of the week

There are ten days of the week and three weeks to the month.

Sunsday

Moonsday

Fatesday

Windyday

Loveday

Earthday

Rainday

Marketday

Lifeday

Deathday

 

 

Noble names in the city states

Chrysandos   Phaodorus   Xulon   Petrodios  

Agrosion, Xanthion, Zorb

 

Noble names in the Selenite empire.

Kron   Lex   Dren   Drex   Cass   Mils

Second tier families

Sorn   Doxus   Aren   Dax   Veren   Clodis   Helio   Titus   Lars   Arnth

 

death's knight 4

 

Chapter 4

 

Pythas stood, grimly, overlooking the place of execution. He was backed up by Harkon, his friend Zalmox, Pythas’s daughter, Lelyn, and Kaz. Kaz was along mostly for her personal connection to Alethos, which Pythas had no hesitation in exploiting.

Pythas frowned at Allenna Dren and Clodus Mils.

“I wish to make a formal protest about the travesty of the ‘Death’ glyph being used in this way,” he said. “It has long been used to display the bodies of bandits, but purely as part of a rite and prayer to prevent them from being used as undead. It is displeasing to my god that his glyph be used to execute criminals, but he is much angered  that you plan to so misuse it to murder hostages.”

“Grow up, Pythas; this is about politics, not the gods,” sneered Mils. “Besides, it is also a symbol of my god, Thanus, one of our Brothers Under the Moon.”

“The gods are about everything, Mils,” said Pythas. “Moreover, I do not recognise Thanus as a god, since he is only an upstart apostate of my god, whose tongue is so far up the backside of Selen that he eats her bogies with it.”

Mils went a shade of purple normally only seen in an embarrassed Darkling Toróg.

“You go too far, Pythas!” he tried to boom, but managed only to squawk.

“Do I?” said Pythas. “I would say I do not go far enough. Thanus interrupted his training as a hero to join your blood cults, and as such does not have a full understanding or use of the ‘Death’ glyph, which he fumbles around in his inept, ungodly way, and cannot give his misguided fools of worshippers true tools of protection against the undead, because he is feeble.”

Mils snarled.

Thanus did not grant as much protection against the undead as Alethos.

“We do not fear the undead as you do, but accept them as part of the blessed moon’s way,” said Mils.

“Care for a wager, old boy?” asked Pythas, offensively. “I wager that Alethos can destroy all these murderous poles and that Thanus cannot prevent him from doing so.”

Mils sneered.

“The gods will not intervene on such a matter, even if you have sacrificed to have divine intervention cast at your will,” he said.

“We shall see,” said Pythas. He raised his arms.

“Oh, Alethos, hear me, I beseech thee; destroy these travesties of thy purity as death who comes in love as a friend, something Thanus does not understand.”  He shot Mils a look, and added maliciously, “And never will.”

“Thanus prevent this foolery!” cried Mils, convinced that nothing would happen, and that he could then claim Thanus’s power in preventing a curse.

“How spectacular do you think Pythas wants?” asked Alethos’s voice in Kaz’s head. “With you as a focus I can do almost anything.”

“Enjoy yourself being showy,” thought back Kaz.

“Pythas has shaped up very nicely,” approved Alethos. “One day I must tell you some of the stories of his wild and reckless youth.”

Kaz chuckled.

“Do I want to know?” asked Pythas, quietly.

“Alethos is about to be showy,” said Kaz. “And he promised to tell me tales of your youth.”

“Ah, my geas for the gift of this piece of theatre,” said Pythas, ruefully.

 

“See? Nothing is happening,” said Mils.

“It is; you have not felt it yet,” said Pythas.

There was a low rumbling; and the ground began shaking. Kaz’s eyes burned amber as her god and beloved used her body to reach the ground in front of them. As they watched, the execution hill and surrounding area needed to accommodate so many execution poles sank down into the ground, carrying the imperfect glyphs with it. A perfectly circular hole started filling with clear crystalline water.

“You were saying?” said Pythas.

Mils was white.

“It’s not possible!” he cried.

“It is,” said Pythas. “Tell your adolescent fool of a god not to try to play with the grown-ups.”

“Well, that was interesting,” said Alethos, including all of his worshippers there. “I was able to use the connection of these places of murder to each other so that every Selenite execution hill is now a pool of water.”

 Pythas and his comrades knelt and made the signs of Death and Truth, sacrificing from their magical hearts in gratitude.

“Your god has declared himself an enemy of the Selenite Empire!” cried Mils, shrilly. “Your Excellency! What is to be done about them?”

The Inquisitor had been watching, keeping aloof; he was ashen-faced.

“We will find another shape to use and eschew the ‘Death’ glyph,” he said. “Let a straight pole be used, with a crossmember. Send your men to cut more wood.”

“It will take many days; we have used all the wood that can be reached conveniently,” said Mils, licking his lips nervously.

“Then they shall he hanged from the balconies of public buildings!” cried Lazar Kron.

Kaz made a sign to a trógling in the Alethosi retinue. The youth ran off.

Within an hour, there would be no rope to be had, unless the Selenites stripped it from ships. Those rope chandlers who did not support the Empire would happily have their rope hidden, and claim to have had a big order; those whose allegiance was unknown or was for the empire would just have their stores raided.

 

A messenger ran up to Nils.

“My lord! The barracks has been attacked by warriors of the Knights of the Clear Starlight, under the Blue Moon banner!” he cried.”

“We shall have a famous victory over them,” gloated Mils. “They will die in a trap.”

“M…my lord, they attacked from the rear, and used the lightning spells of the god of storms, Ombros, and his sister, Thyella, lady of lighting and wildfire, the Celestial Virgin. There’s a big hole in the back and the Knights of the Clear Starlight swarmed through it and went through the whole compound like locusts, driving those of our common soldiery who did not know about the pit into it!”

“Thanus’s balls!” said Mils. “How did they know?” He paled. “My lord inquisitor! Your slave – it must have been suborned by the partisans!”

“Take men to my palace and kill every slave!” screamed Lazar Kron.

 

He was to be too late with this, as Rynn had been tasked with removing them all whilst he was busy with supervising the raising of the crosses.

Protasion, Svargia, and Vulk lead the wolf-troops in emptying the arenas, and Polia left with the sketch Kaz had made of what she had imagined as sigils and runes of opening an imaginary gate, which had convinced Selenite road-builders that their slave task force had been removed by some strange Steppe magic.

 

Back at the former execution ground, Pythas smiled beatifically. “Your excellency, Lord Mils, Lady Dren. I have the honour to inform you that a state of war now exists between the city state of Mesolimnos and the Selenite Empire.”

“What?” barked Lazar Kron.

“It’s simple enough. You are our foes. Will you surrender peacefully into my custody?”

“The hell I will! Men! Kill the Alethosi!” cried Mils.

Pythas grinned.

“At last,” he said. “A bit of exercise, this chilly morning.”

The silent entourage drew weapons. It was almost like a drill; simultaneous removal of swords from scabbards filled the air with a metallic hiss.  It was plain that the fight was anticipated.

Nils suddenly realised how many cloaked figures watching the proceedings were actually Alethosi, in full armour, and ready to die on their lord’s command, for their god and for their city. He quailed.

He regained confidence when the lines of battle arranged themselves and he found himself facing a trógling. Well, that should be easy enough. Contemptuously, he went to batter away her sword, but found her parrying, and knocking his sword aside. Wait, that should not be possible unless…

Unless his opponent also had an iron sword.

A trógling with an iron sword?

And iron armour. 

A trógling glyph-lord of Alethos?

He was still wondering how this might have come about when the iron sword of his opponent sashayed around his, spun into the back stroke, and Nils died, somewhat surprised.

The loss of their commander seemed to demoralise the rest of the troops, and some of them broke and ran.

This was the first true battle in which Kaz had participated; and she was surprised how like a drill it could be, if one only ignored the stench of fear, blood, and body fluids. She was glad that she had increased her stamina over the last few years, so that she might fight on through a battle which continued not for a few minutes, but for well over an hour, by the time the pockets of resistance were wiped out.

“I need a bath,” said Kaz.

“You and the rest of us,” said Lelyn. “That was pretty… messy.”

“Full on battle usually is,” said Pythas, giving his daughter a swift embrace, and including Kaz in it. “You’re both very young.”

“Thank you, sir. I don’t know what it is to have a father, but if I had one, I’d wish him to be like you,” said Kaz.

“Well, now! My wife and I are always there for you,” said Pythas, gruffly. “Back to the temple, I suppose; and a war council with the other cult leaders to deal with an inevitable siege.”

 

In the town centre, Pollosi and Ombrosi warriors were carousing.

“Hey, Pythas!” yelled Erippion Windblown, Thundermaster of Ombros, the same rank as Pythas in his own cult. “We had a little scrap with those damned Selenites – thanks for the intelligence about the pit! Never found the hostages, though. What have you been up to this morning?”

“Oh, did a little praying, and some drill,” said Pythas. “Nothing exciting.  Oh, and as you’d decided to be noisy, I told that snotty faced inquisitor that Mesolimnos is now at war with the Selenite Empire. There seemed no point in hiding it anymore.”

“Ha! I’d have loved to have seen the little twerp’s face! What was it like?”

“Rather surprised until the light went out of his eyes. He was no great challenge.”

“Hang on, how did you stop the two hundred men he had with him?”

“I did tell you we did a little drill after our prayers,” said Pythas, moving on.

“Weren’t you going to tell him about what Alethos did, father?” asked Lelyn.

“Why should I? the blowhard will find out soon enough, even as he’ll find out that the city folk are home by now. We don’t have to blow our own trumpets. The facts will speak. And when he finds out about it when he is sober, he will appreciate it the more. I shall call a war council for the fifteenth hour.”

 

 

The war council included Erytheon Sun-Toucher, sun-seer of Solos, along with his brother, ChrysandionLightspear, Lightfather of Solos. The Lightfather also acted as chief judge in the city.

“That’s a coup, getting the Solosi to a meeting,” said Kaz.

“Yes, and Alethos has been sweating some sense into them and into Pollonis to accept you and your trógling corps,” said Pythas. “You’ve met Ray of Pollonis, Xanthos Brightspear, I believe?”

“Yes, got into an honour duel with him over me wearing iron,” said Kaz, making a face. “I made the point that I could use battlemagic and other magic despite wearing iron because I am tied to it by merit and the will of my god.”

“I heard you laundered him thoroughly with household cantrips,” said Pythas.

“Yes; I folded his cloak, soaped his mouth, wrung the sleeve ofhis spear hand, and finished up airhanging his clothes to blow in the breeze,” said Kaz, happily. “And what do you know, they work as well on Lightmakers as on Bloodsuckers.”

“So long as you cast on his clothes, not on him; how did you manage to soap his mouth?”

“Overpowered it,” said Kaz. “He rather got the point.”

Xanthos Brightspear was glaring at her, but said nothing, swallowing a snarl as she waved to him. He and Erippion Windblown were sober by now, and the latter burst out,

“You lied about what you did this morning, Pythas!  And you the Commandant of a Truth cult!”

“I did not lie,” said Pythas. “I passed on what we did in as complex a way as your drunken brain could handle it at the time. Prayed a little and did some drill. Defeating the men at the execution site was no more than a drill, really. And our prayers were moderately successful; Alethos informs me that he was able to use his anchor at one execution site to do much the same across the Empire. I wager there are a few worried Selenites; Lazar Kron almost shit himself.”

“How did you get the hostages out?” demanded Xanthos.

“It wasn’t actually me, but some of my people. And it’s a cult secret,” said Pythas. “But I will tell you that some cult heroes can open gates to Hell and back.”  The rescued hostages had all been subject to confusion spells, cast over an area, and basically believed what they had described to them. Protasion had described the glowing fungi and warned people not to touch them. Protasion’s father was on the council, and Pythas bowed to him. “Lord Aristides Chrysandos, your son led the contingent who rescued the hostages, with his friend, Evgon, whose parents had been taken.”

“My son isn’t a cult hero,” said Lord Aristides.

“Not yet, no,” said Pythas. “But he is on the quest path, and hangs around with others who also quest. He wants to make you proud of him, and to help lead the City States out of slavery in our war against the Blood Moon and her minions.”

“You Alethosi aren’t even Knights of the Clear Starlight,” said Xanthos.

“No, and we hope the Healing Trio won’t be needed this time, and that the gods of storm and wind will be more focused in their fury,” said Pythas, dryly. “But it is Alethos to whom Lycoids who hate their taint of chaos turn, and Alethos who changes the glyph ‘Taint’ to ‘Beast’ to permit them to be skinchangers without ties to the moon and to be free of disease. By compassion, we have allies, not dead foes.”

Xanthos flushed, but not as much as Erippion. The gods of wind and storm had gone insane when the fall of parts of the Blue Moon had disrupted the world, and Alethos and his sisters, Latrika and Phrodine, goddesses of healing and love respectively, had confined and healed them. It was something they wanted to forget.

“Let us come to order,” said ChrysandionLightspear. “It is unfortunate that the hot-headed actions of some of us has forced the issue, but as it is forced,  we need to decide what to do.  I understand that the governor, Ralthur Kron, has also vanished in suspicious circumstances. I beg your pardon, Pythas?”

“I snorted,” said Pythas. “Ralthur defected, something he has been planning for a long time.”

“Are you certain his defection is genuine?” asked Erippion.

“Are you certain you brought all your wits with you and did not leave it drowned in a cup of that rotgut the Plainsfolk drink?” said Pythas. “He defected from Thanus to Alethos, who confirmed him Glyph Lord with an additional gift and geas. You don’t get to glyph level in the cult of a god of Truth without being true to your word. He is under my command. And now, gentlemen, unless the sun-seer has anything to reveal, we need to plan; and that involves closing off our border.”