Death's Knight 19

 

Chapter 19

 

 

Protasion helped Harkon out from under the maul, and went to help mop up the last darkling warrior.

“Burn... burn the bodies so they cannot be used as undead...” Harkon began, but Mycota was touching each body, and as he watched, they sprouted with fungi and were consumed. Protasion went through breaking up every bone left intact, the others copying him.

“Now, let us grab the trógling and go!” said Harkon.

“I will open a way through the mountains,” said Zog. “We must go to the sky; you will come, friend Harkon, and your fellows lead the trógling.”

The earth opened smoothly, with steps down.

“You have command, Protasion,” said Harkon.

“It goes all the way to that city; when you are inside I will close this end,” said Zog.

 

The tróglings had been tearing into food as if they were starving; which they were.

“Eat on the march; or we may be pursued,” said Kuros. They did as they were bid, following him down the steps and not asking where they had come from. Protasion saw everyone else down before following, with a salute to Zog. They had to trust the Toróg god, and follow his underground passage, and trust to it being good. Vulk growled; but went. Polia rode on him, her leg hurt by a spear, but that could be seen to later.

Zog closed the pathway, and took Mycota’s hand, and Harkon’s; and Harkon muttered the prayer to Pollonis that he had learned for the purpose to transfer them to the court of the sun-god, Solos. They were rising up through the air as the cave through which Mycota had come  disgorged more toróg of all kinds, and the hulking brutish figure of Tor himself.

Harkon shuddered. Not a moment too soon, and whether they were out of the frying pan and into the fire was yet to be determined. He wished he might have Protasion for his smooth law-trained tongue, but hopefully he could recall all the arguments.

And then they were all but falling on the floor in the divine throne room, and Harkon’s bad shoulder touched down, and he lost consciousness.

 

oOoOo

 

Harkon came to, with warmth in his shoulder, which felt a lot better.

“You have made an abrupt arrival, my associate priest,” said Pollonis, in some amusement.

“Just ahead of Tor,” said Harkon. “Where am I? Did mighty Solos hear and accept the petition of Mycota and Zog?”

“Zog knelt, and petitioned to be a lord of the shadows, and to be the consort of Mycota, and Mycota cried and said that she needed her family. Zog pointed out that she was no longer bound by the law having given not one but two lives in the persons of her daughtes to Tor. Thyella and Phaedros came to add their petitions, and Thyella pointed out that as clouds cast shade, and shade comes in many degrees, she was a part of the shadow court herself, as lightning could cast the darkest of shadows.  There are new powers in the world.”

“Kaz is of the opinion that when chaos is driven out, those gods who can adapt to change will live, and those who cannot will die,” said Harkon. “Thank you for healing me. I was a bit, er, mauled.”

“Killing the twins of Tor will be much celebrated,” said Pollonis. “You are becoming famed; but beware of my sister Zeandine; she has taken a dislike to you for your fair justice over that foolish competition and she is spiteful and rather limited. I fear she will be one of those who does not survive change,” he added, unhappily.

“Thank you for the warning, divine one,” said Harkon, who always felt he had to be more formal with the god of light than with Alethos, who was... well, a friend.

“Sleep; when you awaken, you will be back in your own bed,” said Pollonis. And Harkon felt himself overwhelmed by healing sleep. He sensed the presence of Thyella beside him as he drifted off, and snuggled into her arms.

 

oOoOo

 

Thyella and Phaedros left Kaz, Rynn, and Hraazaz when they emerged from the temple.

“Harkon needs us to add advocacy,” said Thyella. “And he’s hurt so I want to go to him.”

“It’s a routine journey back to Mesolimnos,” said Kaz. “Though, I must say, heroic travel would be useful.”

“You need to concentrate on lifting your body with your kormajeia and carrying it,” said Thyella. “It’s a question of practice.”

“And I am relying on Thyella, because I haven’t mastered it yet,” said Phaedros.

Kaz did not say so, but she hoped she would be able to manage things a little more quietly than Thyella.

“Dear one, I suspect you should consider practising merging with shadows, and moving from shadow to shadow,” said Alethos.

“Good idea,” said Kaz.

 

oOoOo

 

“Harkon disrespected us both,” said Zeandine to Secalia. “We should have our vengeance on him.”

“Shall we ask Thyella to help?” said Secalia. “She was really upset over being called a cheat.”

“No, I don’t like her,” said Zeandine. “And she’s been weird lately. You’d almost think she’s found a lover.”

Secalia giggled unkindly.

“What, Madam Stuck-up Celestial Virgin? Hardly. Who’d have her? Her hair is an absolute fright, frizzing out like it does when she’s all full of lightning, and so skinny! And abrasive! No man could possibly stand her.”

“No, you’re right,” said Zeandine. “And what could she add to help us plot? She doesn’t understand men as we do.”

“What had you in mind?” asked Secalia.

“Harkon spurned all my suggestions of lovers,” said Zeandine. “I offered him the woman said to be the most beautiful mortal in the world, Vaudia Cass, the betrothed of Ralthur Kron, until he changed sides. She has sweetly rounded limbs and a full bosom, and a perfect pear shaped body, with long dark hair and skin of the palest. I will give him to someone much less palatable; Thea Drex, heroine of the Selenite pantheon, who is all muscles, and tanned by being outside much of the time. I will give her dreams of Harkon and offer him to her as her sex slave. Imagine, a warrior being tied to a woman warrior who can give him orders, and who has no softness to rest against! It will be torture to him.”

Secalia gave a screaming little laugh.

“Oh, how clever!” she said. “But isn’t this woman on the chaos side, and aren’t we supposed to support the Alethosi?”

Zeandine shrugged. The amount of movement this engendered would have horrified Harkon, but many men found such movement mesmerising.

“Oh, politics; I stay out of such boring things,” she said. “Besides, it’s only one man and one woman; how can that make much difference? And in a hundred years they’ll likely be dead, anyway; mortals never live long enough to be much fun to play with.”

“How is she going to get hold of him?”

“I will have him given a lust potion so that when he sees her he is overcome by lust. It can only be countered by someone who is truly in love, and Harkon is too cold to love anyone.”

 

 

Unaware of the depth of Zeandine’s spite and malice towards him, Harkon awoke in his own temple in the arms of his wife. It seemed a very satisfactory reward to him for being wounded sorely in the rescue of her aunt.

Harkon preferred not to dwell too deeply on the relationships of the solar pantheon; Solos was known to play away, and Zea had had at least one lover in the begetting of sundry grain goddesses, and Harkon did not approve of such behaviour from a cult which supposedly upheld law and family values.

He reported to Pythas when he got up; and it must be said that this was only when his wife had made sure that every part of him was in working order.

It seemed rather mundane to be back in a besieged state, as the Selenites had abandoned Lazar Kron to captivity rather than withdraw; it would go harder on the Selenites as winter drew in. Though the two great lakes mitigated the severity of winter to some extent, they also made winters wetter, with many feet of snow possible, and wet fogs common. There were plenty of supplies in the city for those living there, and any who felt the cold, or were infirm were to be welcomed into any temple, where they might do some work according to their abilities to pay for somewhere to stay, food, and warmth. This generally involved things like peeling vegetables for stews, or sharpening weapons, mending leatherwork or such occupations if they had the knowledge. At the moment, most women in the city were busy preserving for the winter, busy with brine and vinegar.  There might be a shortage of honey for preserving fruits, because of the siege, but the warm late summer had seen many fruits being dried on racks and laid away in dry cellars. There was meat being salted down from herds brought in by the plainsfolk and fish from both lakes, and the besiegers could not stop either. It was amusing in a way. But of course, the Selenites would not let it rest like that, which was why provisioning was so important; Harkon knew what he would do in their shoes. First, he would have the current besieging garrison replaced with fresh troops, prepared for winter conditions, and able to dig in with plenty of supplies; and then he would send a second army across the plains, skirting the lakes rather than risking the marshes between the great lake and lakes Ena and Olo. That way, the siege could be extended to the currently ‘safe’ side of Mesolimnos. Or they might sail as far as Rhinopolis and then march round; sailing the length of the great lake would leave them on the same side of Mesolimnos without the ability to get through the Akerusian swamps to surround the city. And the greatest danger was in crossing the great plains where they would be harried by plainsfolk; and who might also negotiate the Drylands to harry the Selenite army.

“Sometimes I wish I could fly, so I could see the disposition of the enemy,” said Harkon, frustrated.

“But, darling, you can fly; you can cloud walk with me,” said Thyella. “Shall we go?”

Harkon stared, open mouthed.

“Darling, you’re brilliant,” he said.

“You know what I love about you, Harkon?” said Thyella. “You love me, not what I can do for you. It never occurred to you to use my powers.”

“Of course I love you,” said Harkon. “Being a goddess is neither here nor there; but I confess, it would be useful to go and spy.”

“Then, spy we shall.”

“Thyella, how deep can you drive a lightning bolt?”

“I don’t know; what had you in mind? I thought we weren’t to actually start the gods war that is fortold too early?”

“I was wondering if you could open a shaft to water below the drylands, to establish safe ways of travel only known to a few,” said Harkon.

“There are seasonal rivers, which mostly run underground,” said Thyella. “I should think I could reach water, and if we made love there enough to call rain, and got some vegetation growing, it ought to be stable enough. Did you want to do that instead of spying?”

“No, but it was something which occurred to me in passing,” said Harkon.  “We can do that when we have some spare time.”

“Shall we go, then?” said Thyella.

“Not yet,” said Harkon. “I don’t think that the Selenites have taken us seriously enough before to have heroes involved; but even assuming they sent messages by spirits back to Selenopolis, there has to have been discussion and decision about what’s going on. I want to know when they move, but I don’t feel that they have yet.”

“I could go and see if there were people on the move, and collect you when they are, as part of my job taking storms,” said Thyella.

“Well, if you would, I’d be grateful,” said Harkon.

Thyella kissed him.

“I’m so glad I can help,” she said. “I’d ask Ombros as well but I can’t guarantee he wouldn’t boast about it, and he’s been talking about a new lover; some ice spirit from the north.”

“I have a bad feeling about this,” said Harkon. “Still, at least we can go and look; and if I was them, I’d sail as much of the way as I could.”

“You know about ships and shipping, don’t you?”

“I come from the Depression,” said Harkon. “There’s a large lake, and there’s the sea, and the depression is between them, where the earth was stretched as it bucked in agony after portions of the Blue Moon fell. My father was a fisherman.”

“What made you and your brother come south to the city states?” asked Thyella.

“Seeking revenge,” said Harkon. “Pirates raided, whilst my father, my brother, and I were out at sea. They seized our mother and sister; our mother’s body was left at the waterline, horribly cut about, and we found it when we returned. Of our sister, Sjurgi, there was no sign. We had to assume she had been sold into slavery, probably in the empire. We wept; and in spring, my brother, who had a spirit many times larger than his stunted body, declared that he was going to look for answers. He went off with a band of traders. He wrote twice, and then there was a kindly letter from Pythas, about how he died bravely. He wrote that there was money banked for me if I wanted it. I wanted it; but my father was old and sick. I stayed until he died, mostly of grief.  Torval was four years older than me, so I was sixteen when I came to the city states, green and ignorant. Our sister was almost eight when she was stolen away, four years my junior. My parents did the correct rituals to Freega Allmother, whom I know now as Zea, for the most fortuitous space between children. We had a younger brother, too, but he was sickly, and died. I have no more family, for I don’t suppose Sjurgi survived. She was a bright little spark and not given to being pushed around; with two older brothers, she always wanted to tag along, and show us she was as good as we were. That would not go down well in a slave.”

“You could ask Alethos,” said Thyella. “He would surely know who had passed through the halls of the dead.”

“I... I had not thought of it,” said Harkon. He thrust his sword into the ground, and knelt by it to pray.

“No, my hero, no Sjurgi, Gordsdottir, has passed through,” said Alethos. “Gord, Solvi, and Sjen rest in the halls of the dead, for those of no strong faith.”

“Then I must visit,” said Harkon, tears flowing down his face. “And I must look again for Sjurgi; though I doubt she would know me, now, any more than I would know her, if they have changed her name, as they are wont to do.”

“I would have carried you to your father’s home if he had still lived,” said Thyella. “But I will take you to the path of the dead any time.”

“Thank you,” said Harkon.

 “And if you get any clue, I will take you to where there might be news of Sjurgi,” said Thyella.

“I... I am almost afraid to hope,” said Harkon. “I used to ask every trading band for news, but as time passes, you lose hope.  I even visited Selenopolis once, but I found nothing of use.”

“I think we will find her,” said Thyella. “Though somehow, I doubt she will be the loving, spirited sister that you knew.”

Harkon considered grimly that a pretty, exotic northern girl would have learned fast how many ways a girl can be hurt, and was probably now someone’s scrub maid, or used to breed soldiers for the empire. 

“And do not berate yourself!” said Alethos. “You had to be where you had to be. My mother tells me that this is the way it had to be.”

Alethos did not say that his mother spoke sorrowfully of a heartbreaking reunion where many things would depend on choices made by Harkon and his sister.

 

 

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.”