Death's knight 11

 

Chapter 11

 

“Well, we’re on the roof,” said Kaz. “We have to assume undead below us, because they would consider the temple of Solos to be the best place to defile. And I don’t know about you, but waiting about until it’s dark seems an incredibly bad idea to me; but it’ll take us until then to get this roof off.”

“If you can get enough tiles off for me to see in, I have the ability to flood the whole area with sunlight,” said Phaedros.

“Well, what are we waiting for?” said Rynn. “Let’s shift some tiles and let Phaedros make like a glow-worm.”

“It’s not...” said Phaedros, and shut up. “You’re teasing me.”

“Of course I am,” said Rynn. “And I didn’t even get as far as your bottom glowing.”

“Leave it, Rynn,” said Kaz.

“I don’t really mind,” said Phaedros. “It isn’t meant maliciously.”

“Oh, well, if you can tell that, you are coming on very well,” said Kaz.

“Make it big enough for us to get a ladder down,” said Hakon.

“Rope,” said Kaz. “It’s quicker to go down a rope.”

There was a sudden flash and crack of thunder, and with a smell of Ozone, Thyella was back.

“You haven’t got much further,” she said, critically.

“For one thing, we’re only mortal, for another, you scared away most of our workers, and for another, you stole one of our spades,” said Harkon. “You’re a nuisance; go away and stay away.”

Thyella started sobbing, and thunder rolled around the sky.

“I... I only wanted to make amends for ch-cheating and behaving badly, by h... h... helping you, Harkon!” she cried. “I could make short work of this to help by putting a thunderbolt right through it...”

“No!” barked Harkon, as she raised her hand. “Are you insane? I have people on that roof, and you’ll kill them if it all caves in, which with the weight of the earth on it, it might well do, if you make a hole violently. Honestly, you have no more sense than a kitten!”

“You people aren’t very impressed by gods, are you?” said Thyella.

“We’re planning to kill several; it doesn’t exactly improve our ability to believe we can do it to get impressed,” said Kaz. “What do you really want, Thyella? You aren’t trying to help really because all you do is cause trouble.”

“But I don’t want to cause trouble! I want to help! I... I want Harkon to realise that I’m not a cheater, that I wouldn’t have tried to offer him something if I hadn’t realised the other two were going to do so, and... and I didn’t want them to steal a march on me, because they’re the pretty ones, and I want Harkon to notice me as a woman!”

“Oh!” said Kaz.

“‘Those of the gods who are able will gain power when the judge of the three fools brings wisdom, and she who embraces his wisdom will gain in many ways.’” quoted Protasion. “But you can’t have it both ways, Thyella; to want him to notice you and then carp when he touches you, even if it was a rough touch to stop you doing something foolish.”

“I... I am the Celestial Virgin,” said Thyella, rather uncertainly.

“Well, that’s your choice,” said Kaz.  “But if you want a man to notice you, and then not follow through to fulfil the desire you arouse in him, do you think that’s fair? Harkon has already sworn that he will find it impossible to find another woman to whom he is as attracted as to you, so you have already disrupted his life, and taken away his chance of a happy marriage, fatherhood, and so on. Playing with his affections and then getting bored, especially if you let him touch you at all, is about the most dishonourable thing there is, especially if you decide you don’t like it and go and whine to your celestial grandfather about it.”

“Whine?” whined Thyella.

“Whine,” said Kaz.  “If you want him to court you, then expect the consequences between a man and a woman if you enjoy his courtship, and if you do not want that, do not play games and tease him.”

“I... Zeandine and Secalia say I am the Celestial Virgin as no man would want me,” said Thyella.

“Yes, well, we saw what they were like,” said Harkon, who had been trying to stay out of things.

“I want you to court me!” said Thyella, the lightning-bolt tears crackling down her face. “I am a woman and I want love!”

“You can’t get love by demanding it,” said Kaz, with patience heavy in her voice. “You are very good at ‘I want,’ Thyella, but you will only be loved if you are loveable, and that means more giving than demanding, it means being a friend as well as someone desirable, and about learning what your man likes more than demanding what you like from him. And if you have any sense you will both discuss what you like and what you don’t but in private. Now, by all means do your best to show Harkon that you want to know him better, but do it on your own time, not when we are racing the sun to get into that temple and kill undead.”

“You are the beloved of Alethos, who’s stern and stuffy and doesn’t seem very lovable, so I suppose you know what you are talking about,” said Thyella.

“If you don’t find Alethos lovable, you’ll find it hard with Harkon, who is a reflection of his god,” said Kaz, dryly. “And I think Alethos is adorable.”

“Harkon has a sense of humour,” said Thyella.

“So does Alethos,” said Kaz. “He just hides it.”

“Thyella, you are beautiful; but duty first,” said Harkon.

“I... yes, of course,” said Thyella. She joined in helping to dig to reveal roof tiles.

“Right,” said Harkon, as they revealed an area of roof. “Time to get those off as fast as possible.”

“I could punch a fairly limited hole through,” said Thyella.

Harkon considered.

“Do you see how the tiles go up and down a bit?” he asked.

“Yes,” said Thyella.

“Where they have sagged slightly, that’s between the great beams that hold up the dome,” said Hakon. “If you can aim between beams, it means the structure of the roof is not damaged, so it can be more easily repaired.”

“You know a lot, Harkon,” said Thyella. “I thought roofs held up with prayer.”

“No,” said Harkon. “Roofs hold up with someone designing how to hold them up.”

“I’ve learned something then,” said Thyella, hopefully. “Does that show me ready to change and adapt?”

“It’s a start,” said Harkon.

“Stand back,” said Thyella.

They stood back, and with a crackle and a loud CRACK! A thunderbolt pierced the roof, leaving a hole plenty big enough to get through, but not large enough to cause damage.

“Nice!” said Kaz. “Your turn, Phaedros; glow for us.”

Phaedros moved towards the hole and was diverted by Rynn to walk on a beam, and lay down, holding his hands into the hole. His hands started to glow, and there were cries and shrieks from within the temple. Two ropes snaked down, thrown by Harkon and Kaz,and secured to the central spike,  and they both took a leather strap to wrap around the rope, using their boots to control their descent using the strap to slide down.  The others followed similarly.

A number of skeletons and zombies had turned to dust in the pure sunlight glow from the demigod’s hands, but the living initiates were unharmed, and the cloaked figure dodging through a doorway also seemed to have avoided damage. Kaz swiftly cast a folding cantrip at the bloodsucker’s cloak; it should delay him. There was a cry of confusion, and Harkon advanced with his flaming sword. Kaz went in search of the spirit bound to be the heart of the temple, knowing that it would be a Selenite spirit, because the bloodsucker and his minions would scarcely be able to remain if a spirit dedicated to Solos was still there. Protasion took up guard of her back, as Lelyn, Evgon, Kuros, Svargia, Rynn, Vulk, and Polia swarmed down the ropes. The two lay trógling remained at the top, guarding the ropes.

A door into the temple crashed open, with reinforcements, and the blinding flash that was Phaedros swooped down to snatch Rynn from the sudden onslaught of newcomers.

“I owe you,” said Rynn, shaken, but quickly taking up her spear which she favoured over sword, standing at the side of the glowing demigod.

“I am glad I was there,” said Phaedros.

There were a number of zombies which appeared to be armed with farm implements. They smelled of earth more than of decay, but crumbled in the sunlight emanating from Phaedros. Thyella came down.

“Let me,” she said, tossing a thunderbolt into the passage from which the reinforcements had come. There were screams.

Harkon, meanwhile, had been wrestling directly with the bloodsucker, casting the glyph magic to directly cut its spirit from where it had been bound back into its body. It was the first time he had used the spell, but he knew this was what Alethos meant him to use it for. Kaz and Protasion had found a skull, which was black with sacrificial blood. Kaz activated her sword of light, and the spirit began shrieking before she even clove the skull in half. The spirit attacked Protasion, rather than the warrior with the terrible sword of light, and Kaz willed the blade to be short, to stab at it, without hurting her friend. Protasion had learned the cantrip wring and cast it on the spirit. The spirit Toval helped out and the guardian was rapidly subdued. Kaz turned the Undeath glyph inside out and absorbed it. The battle seemed to go faster than their previous experience with undead.

“We’re starting to learn how to deal with them, I suppose,” said Kaz, as they all reconvened below the hole in the roof.

“Others came through a tunnel,” said Rynn. “Phaedros saved me; they came right in behind us.”

“We have several hours of daylight; we should follow the tunnel,” said Harkon. “We don’t want surprises.”

“Some of us should follow the tunnel,” said Kaz. “Phaedros is looking ill. You aren’t used to glowing so long, are you?”

“No,” admitted Phaedros.

“I’ll stay with him,” said Rynn. “Someone ought to.”

“Agreed,” said Harkon. “Another volunteer?”

“I’ll stay,” said Evgon.

 

The tunnel had been shored up and driven through the ruins, in a mostly straight line, and into the mountain; where it rapidly opened into a large cave, whose roof had fallen in at some point to reveal a hidden area of cultivation, with some rude huts built of stone.

“The zombies tended the crops overnight,” said Kaz. “That’s why they had farm implements.  Look, a crescent shaped building, a temple to Selen. But this is a community, there are children; we can hardly fall on them and kill them.”

“This is not our problem,” said Harkon. “They have crops and animals. They can survive, and we will have to send others to teach them better ways, Removing them by force will not answer, and whilst I want to tear down their temple, it will make them fight and I don’t think we can fight without harming them.”

“I will bring some of my battle maidens,” said Thyella.

“Fine; but we will withdraw before we are noticed, and  bring down some of the tunnel, to block them in for now,” said Harkon. “We are here specifically to find books and scrolls about the overarching mission of getting Kaz to the right place and time.”

 

They withdrew successfully.

“My job, now,” said Kaz. “Keep going; I’m going to turn the ceiling rock into sand. If I release it slowly and then step round this rock, it should gently fill the tunnel. If you hear a roar, run.”

“That isn’t helpful,” said Lelyn.

“Yes it is,” said Kaz. “You’ll know to get out so you can live to see if I survived it. Trust me!”

“I hate it when she says that,” said Protasion.

 

Kaz knew it was a ticklish business, but she had been learning about channelling power, and she connected to the rock with a Toróg rune of sand, and moved backwards as she activated it, very slowly. Then she turned round and ran, as the sand started pouring down, chasing her up the tunnel. She got out of the part which was the side of the valley and relaxed, as that was a different region.

Harkon raised an interrogative eyebrow.

“Assuming the zombies had all the spades, picks, and mattocks, it’ll take them about three years to dig through,” she said.

Lelyn brushed sand out of her friend’s hair, scolding. Kaz grinned, but was glad to sit down with Phaedros and rest.

Protasion headed for the library, and was soon rummaging through texts. Kaz, propped up against a pillar, dozed, and was startled awake by a yell of triumph.

“This is it!” Protasion said, triumphantly. “I had to read through a heap of stupid sounding prophesies from the Sun Seer Scrolls, but I think this is this the one. ‘The dawn will need to pass through time and planes to trick the trickster and close the circle and activate the curse that is not.’”

“Well, that sounds like the usual maunderings a seer manages,” said Kaz.  “Any suggestions on how to do it?”

“Pages of ritual notes, some of which peter out as the seer woke up,” said Protasion. “Fortunately, there are two or three backup prophesies, and someone managed to gather them all together, so I suspect that between them all, they’ll get the whole ritual.”

“If not, I suspect Fate will cheat,” said Kaz. “I have every faith in my future mother-in-law.”

“I found another scroll,” said Thyella.  “It’s from the library of Polos and has some gathered prophesies of storm and wind as well as sun.  I think I might be playing a part in sending the Daykaz through time with the power of lightning to add to light, and I get the impression we need opposed forces – my grandmother as fertility and Alethos for death, Phaedros for light, and a priestess of the Toróg for darkness.”

“That’ll be a challenge,” said Kaz. “At least you think it’s Phaedros, who is reasonable, I can’t see Pollonis or Solos working with one of the Toróg.”

“Alethos’s sister, the goddess of love, represents fertility as part of her aspect, in maternal love,” said Harkon. “We don’t need to trouble the celestial deities.”

“And love and death between them should have enough power for it,” said Kaz. “I think we have what we came for.”

“And now all we need is a Toróg priestess. Not hard at all,” said Protasion, with heavy irony.

“We left one in courtesy, when we stole Rynn,” said Kaz. “The Darkling merchant, Hraazaz Wealthbringer. I will write to her and ask if she will be an instrument of the destruction of the Trógling Curse.”

“She’ll probably tell you to go fish up a tree,” said Lelyn.

“Then we shall have to find another who will be more helpful,” said Kaz.

 

death's knight 10

 right, we are waiting for the gas engineer to come today, and hopefully end this saga.  Simon had stress dreams all night and I tossed and turned and we confessed to each other we were wondering what was going to go wrong. Not IF something was going to go wrong, but what. so, we shall see what happens, and either I will be a much happier person by midday or completely freaked out. 

 

Chapter 10

 

The way was fairly well established now; the Alethosi supported the community of rescued trógling, and there were a mix of temple staff, an ageing Glyph-priest having been sent to run the temple and help the community, as well as there having been a quiet drive to find younger sons of farmers who wanted to branch out on their own. Adventurers still sought loot and thrills – in that order – in the buried city, but so long as they did not disrupt the settlers, they were treated with courtesy and were welcome to spend their money in the inn run by a pair of enterprising trógling, which they had named ‘Shadow’s Edge.’ Shops were opening, though many goods locally exchanged hands by barter, and manufactured goods were exported.  Kaz smiled, and nodded at the busy settlement; it was now growing spontaneously.

“Tragosti!” hissed Phaedros, reaching for his weapon, on seeing some goat-headed beings.

“What of them? They are peaceful herders,” said Harkon. “We encountered a tribe when we were establishing the trógling here, and Kaz barged in and told them that if they worshipped Alethos, he could rid them of any chaos taint they had, and help them.  They took the choice of having their children be born with more human features; a few have slight horn buds, but the Tragosti see no advantage in retaining the goat-like features wished on their ancestors, and the descent into madness each eventually suffers. They made agreement to retain their own appearance to give their descendants freedom from the curse.”

“I see,” said Phaedros. “I will ask my father to offer the same. It is not as if they are dangerous, like Lycoids, and the horrific diseases they carry, of lycanthropy, hydrophobia, and distemper.”

“Which can be removed by godly intervention,” said Kaz. “The wolf-men of the north joined us; the evening howling spread the word, and the Lycoids came in their hundreds to worship and be freed from the stigma and the diseases. Some chose to be shifters, others preferred to be wolves all the time – like Konisia and Lycaura. Vulk, first and dearest, is a shifter. He is working towards being a cult hero to represent the wolves. Chaos is a horrible wrong which was inflicted on those people and beings who were in the way of the fall of parts of the moon, and some cannot be reasoned with – like the marsh creepers. Others can.”

“I see,” said Phaedros. “I am glad. What of those who will not listen?”

“They must be killed,” said Kaz, with a sigh.

“I see,” said Phaedros. “It will be a long time before the world is cleansed.”

“Yes,” said Kaz. “We may as well eat and settle in for the night; there are wards up for those who occupy this end of the city, but there are dangers in the rest of it, including undead. Another day to allow the blood moon to wane a little more won’t hurt.”

“And we don’t even know where to look for a temple of Solos, Pollonis, or Polos, which would be the most likely temples to hold the knowledge we seek,” said Phaedros.

“Whatever gives you the idea that we don’t know where they are?” said Kaz. “We know exactly where they are – and approximately how much digging will be needed.”

“Digging?”

“Why, yes; the mountains shook and the former city is buried,” said Kaz.

“I knew there would be a catch,” said Phaedros, mournfully.

 

oOoOo

 

Installed in the temple, Kaz got out the maps which had been added to since the first mission.

“The temple of Solos has the least rubble on it, having been built on a hill,” she said. “If we start there, we should be able to get readily to the temples of Pollonis and Polos through internal doors.”

“There should be underground passages, if nothing else,” agreed Phaedros. “Surely no bloodsucker would be impudent enough to settle in Grandfather’s temple?”

“They were impudent enough to settle in Death’s temple,” said Kaz.

“Good point, they’d probably think it a good laugh to mock the gods of light and weather,” said Protasion. “Say, Kaz, you and Rynn and Zon put little markers on the maps, short horizonal parallel lines, and I never asked what that meant.”

“Depth,” said Kaz. “Or in other words, how far down things were. The sun temple’s grand dome is barely buried and the whole temple is on an eminence, basically the dome is only covered in vegetation.”

“If we could clear it, and shine it up, Solos might aid me more in approval,” suggested Phaedros.

“It can’t hurt; and you should be able to channel spells better below it too,” said Kaz.

“I remember reading,” said Protasion, “That once upon a time, the domes of sun temples opened up like petals of a flower.”

“That would be something to see,” said Kaz. “I suggest we all worship and give power to Solos before embarking on entering his temple.”

“It would be polite,” said Lelyn.

“We need to see if we can hire some trógling with knowledge of digging cantrips,” said Kaz. “I want to go up and just overlook the city again, if you’ll fix a line again, Kuros. I want to see if we need to go down on it from above, or if there is a way through from the temple here.”

“I’d be inclined to go down from above in any case, so we can open the roof on any bloodsuckers and their tools,” said Protasion. “If we could rig a line to the top spire and make a rough rope bridge it would make things easier.”

“Perchance I might ease that burden, for I can fly,” said Phaedros.

“Good man! You’re backsliding into archaic speech though,” said Protasion. “Trógling won’t much like a rope bridge.”

“Toróg use them to bridge chasms,” said Kaz.

“I hate them,” said Rynn, “But not as much as I hate bloodsuckers.”

“Pay someone who knows how to make a bridge,” said Harkon.

“I think we need to be preparing and setting out tomorrow,” said Kaz.  “And we can purchase honey and have teganites for breakfast.”

“We could have them as a snack now as well,” said Protasion. “I’m hungry.”

“You’re always hungry,” said Lelyn.

“I’m growing, and putting on muscle,” said Protasion. “You cook them; you make such a nice job of them.”

Lelyn laughed, and went to beat flour and water and a little salt and olive oil to make pancakes to fry in olive oil, and drizzled them well with honey as a snack of what was normally breakfast food, and Kaz put the maps away to avoid honey getting on them.

 

oOoOo

 

They set out early in the morning the next day, well-fortified with more pancakes,  porridge with dried fruit, and apples. A rope-bridge had been manufactured overnight, and was carried by the lay-servants Kvag and Dran, with the aid of one of the hired spade-toting trógling who came along, half a dozen of them, glad to be hired for better pay than growing food, and torn between hope that there would be some excitement, and fear that there would be some excitement.

Some enterprising trógling had come up with the idea of using the black volcanic glass which had welled up in places to cleave into thin planes to put in a frame, padded with leather, for trógling to wear over their eyes, to mitigate the pain of daylight, a vast improvement on tying a veil of sheer black silk over the eyes. Kaz and Rynn bought themselves a screen each, and Kaz bought one each for Kvag and Dran.

 

Kaz regarded the city from the cliff from which they had mapped it initially.

“Yes, I remembered correctly,” she said. “If we anchor one end of the bridge here, and you can take it to the central spire, Phaedros, we can all cross and work on a top to bottom approach.”

There were trees on the ridge, and the rope bridge was quickly anchored to a sturdy one. Phaedros picked up the roll of bridge.

“No,” said Kaz.

“What do you mean?” said Phaedros, who was sweating at the weight and looking worried.

“Don’t take the weight of the bridge,” said Kaz. “Tie a line to the other end, and fly over with that, and then draw the bridge over.”

“Right, yes,” said Phaedros.

Phaedros flew out with a light line, and found the spire to the dome still visible above the general surface. He wrapped the line around it according to instructions from Kaz, and drew the bridge out towards him. He was just securing the line, and hoping that he had remembered the knots correctly, when there was a bolt of lighting from a clear sky, and Thyella arrived next to the party on the cliff, terrifying the hireling trógling, who fled.

“What are you doing, Harkon?” she asked.

“Holding a supper party for Marsh Creepers,” said Harkon, sarcastically.

Thyella frowned, confused.

“There’s no marsh here,” she said.

“Congratulations, give that goddess some consolation points for some observational skills,” said Harkon, paying out the bridge as Phaedros drew it over.

“If you want to get over there, if you just asked, I could make you a bridge,” said Thyella, and clouds formed which she ran over. “Hello, cousin,” she said to Phaedros.

“Go away; I’m busy,” said Phaedros.

She pouted, and ran back, as Kaz ran along the rope bridge, mostly to test Phaedros’s knots.

Kaz made a few adjustments, showing Phaedros what she was doing. She waved an arm.

Her party, other than the trógling who had fled, came on, one at a time.

“Don’t you want me to help you, Harkon?” said Thyella.

“No,” said Harkon. “You’re a bloody nuisance and you frightened away our hirelings.”

The goddess stared.

“But I want to atone for being tempted to behave badly,” she said.

“You could help most by not being underfoot and upsetting our hirelings,” Harkon growled.

“But how could I scare them? I am but a woman, and I have been told that they do not count as Toróg, so it is not for me to fight them.”

“Most sensible people find lightning bolts arriving beside them quite scary, especially when full of goddess,” said Harkon. “Now I’ll never have a chance of persuading them back to work, and our task will be harder.”

“I will go and order them to return!” said Thyella, moving onto one foot.

Harkon grabbed her by the wrist.

“You will not!” he barked at her in his parade-ground voice. “They have been frightened enough without you starting to throw orders at them, after arriving in another bolt of lightning!”

“Thou hast laid hands on me! Nobody has ever touched me, me, the Celestial Virgin!” cried Thyella, in shock.

“More’s the pity; if you don’t stop making a nuisance of yourself, I’ll put you over my knee and give you the sort of spanking you should have had when you were younger and more capable of learning not to be a spoilt brat. Nobody likes brats,” said Harkon.

“Let go of me!” cried Thyella,            

“No, I bloody well will not!” said Harkon. “If you want to make up for the trouble you’ve caused, you can bloody well pick up a spade and dig, since I’ve lost half a dozen trógling who know digging spells, which is why I brought them, and if your pretty hands hurt from digging, I have no sympathy.  Either that, or get lost!”.

Thyella wept, but she picked up a spade, looking rather helpless with it.

Meekly she followed Harkon over the rope bridge to the top of the dome.

“You could have used my bridge of clouds,” she said.

“I think you will find that most people trust something they understand, rather than walking on something that common sense tells them is insubstantial,” said Harkon.

“But I can will them substantial,” said Thyella.

“And if you get in a snit while people are on it, and it disappears?” said Harkon. “You’re capricious.”

Thyella found herself being instructed in how to use a spade by a trógling with hair dyed a startling shade of golden yellow.

Resisting the urge to ignore Rynn, thinking that she needed no instruction, Thyella found that it was harder than she had realised, and was glad of the pointers.

“You’re doing well; good girl,” said Harkon. “If you can take instruction, outside of your godly portfolio, you have every chance of being one of the deities who survives.”

Thyella went white.

“What do you mean?” she asked.

“Alethos has a theory that with the godswar which is coming, the gods have to be prepared to consider change, or will end up becoming irrelevant and dying for lack of worshippers,” said Harkon.

“Oh! Like The Forgotten?” said Thyella. “They are not dead, but they have very little power, and they have become childish and play games. They have, some of them, enough power to interfere with individual mortals at times. The Easterners used to worship gods, there’s a whole pantheon of Forgotten there, who swoop around playing games and pulling faces. From time to time one of them catches the attention of a mortal and become a minor cult, but it doesn’t usually last long. Around here, there are gods and goddesses of mountain and stream who are abandoned.”

“Sad, but inevitable,” said Harkon. “Well, with the population increasing here, they will doubtless garner some worship. It is the nature of humanity to give thanks for water, and for shelter, and they will grow once more.” He considered. “That was arrogant of me, wasn’t it? To use a word like humanity, not mortals. The trógling and Tragosti will worship them too, even if the Tragosti eventually disappear as a race with their offspring born more human.”

“Tragosti! Chaos!” her eyes went wide and she wielded her spade as if it were a weapon.

“With the taint removed for worshipping Alethos, so calm down,” said Harkon.  “I believe it’s something any god – or goddess – could do, so why not steal some for yourself?  Leave them with lightning-bold shaped horns or something to mark them as yours. Then, instead of dead enemies, you have live worshippers.”

Thyella gave a squeal of delight.

“You think of the nicest things!” she squealed.

“It is better to take chaos beings away from the Blood Moon, because it counts as double the victory,” said Harkon.  “Like rescuing Trógling, who are not chaotic, but as they often eschew worship of Toróg gods, and have little knowledge of other gods, their souls go, by default to be devoured by the Trickster. And one day, Kaz will confront him, and free them, but in the meantime, we need to find information to allow her to be able to project herself back in time to be cursed by him, so that all prophecies may come to fruit.”

“Why has nobody told me anything about this before?” pouted Thyella.

“You aren’t important enough,” said Harkon. “Don’t pout, it makes you look like a carp.”

Thyella scowled, and some clouds formed, with a crackle of lightning between them.

“Cut that out!” snapped Kaz.

“Nobody is impressed by me at all,” said Thyella.

“We’re in training to kill the chaos gods. Why should we be impressed by a minor goddess who doesn’t do a lot?” said Harkon.

“I pledge myself to your cause!” said Thyella.

“Good; it’s always nice to have allies. But clear it with Kaz before you decide to go off and do anything pre-emptively,” said Harkon.

Apparently, they were stuck with her.

“Oh, poo!” said Thyella. “There’s a volcano erupting on the other side of the world, and I have to go and add lightning. Back soon!” She disappeared in a flash of light and a whiff of ozone.

“Volatile,” said Kaz.

“One word for her,” agreed Harkon. “And she’s nicked a spade!”

 

 

death's knight 9 cliffie bonus

 

Chapter 9

 

Harkon stood, waiting to be struck down.

Lightning flickered in a clear sky; and Thyella vanished. The other two clenched their fists and contemplated Harkon.

And then the heavy weight of a premier god lay upon the little valley, and a man who resembled Phaedrus appeared, his skin shining,

“Get back to father’s court,” he said.

“But Pollonis! This mortal has insulted us!” said Zeandine.

“No, actually, he hasn’t,” said Pollonis. “He has told you some brutal truths and he is under my protection. A pretty thing it would be, would it not, to cause a war of the gods, for Alethos would have to demand your lives in exchange for that of one of his favourites.”

“Is that why he doesn’t like the women I showed him? He’s shagging Alethos?” asked Zeandine.

Pollonis slapped her.

“If he was, it would not be any of your business, but some men are more fastidious than the ones you make drool over you!” he shouted. “Now get back to court and take your foolish egg with you!”

“No,” said Harkon and Kaz in one voice.

“What?” Pollonis turned.

“That egg is wrong,” said Kaz. “It carries evil.”

Pollonis frowned and regarded the egg.

“Chaos!” he snarled. He raised his hand, and a spear was in it.

“Let your son do it,” said Harkon. “He needs feel what such things are like for himself. Phaedros, take your sword, and cut it open.”

“No! it is beautiful…” cried Secalia.

“It has caused my sisters and my niece to quarrel,” said Pollonis. “You two! Begone!”

The two goddesses fled. Phaedros lifted his sword, and hit the egg.

It bounced off.

“Add a flameblade spell,” said Harkon. “Magic is needed to break through it.”

Phaedros did so, and this time, the egg broke at his blow. Kaz, watching narrowly, was fairly certain that it was because of Phaedros’s own divine nature that it was possible for the chaos egg to be broken open. The shards flew in all directions, and Phaedros dropped his sword, cradling his right arm as if it had been hurt by the blow.

From the remains of the egg, crawled a hideous travesty of eagle and man, which looked around.

“But you promised to protect me!” it croaked, pointing at Protasion. “You were paid well enough!”

“What?” said Protasion. Some of his fellows turned towards him, reproachfully.

Kaz narrowed her eyes, as Lelyn seized Protasion’s hand and clung to it, whilst Evgon, Svargia, Kuros, and Polia looked at him as if he was a stranger and an enemy.

“Alethos fill your hearts with truth!” she cried, swinging her sword at the head of the hideous being. It dodged.

“Foolish trogling, to think your companions do anything but laugh up their sleeves at you pretending to be a warrior,” said the thing.

“Trógling,” said Kaz, automatically. She knew she was a good warrior, the jibes would not touch her, she would not let them, though the insidious voice hammered on her self-respect.

“You humans should keep the slave in its place, and not let it attack young gods,” said the thing.

“Just kill it, Kaz; don’t play with your food,” said Vulk.

The creature expelled a stream of spittle, and Kaz swayed effortlessly out of the way, gasping with pain as a drop touched her hand, and burned.

“I’m not eating that, I don’t know where it’s been,” said Kaz, tracking the movement of the creature with her sword, learning how it moved.  It tried to launch itself into the air for flight, but had given itself away by glancing upwards; and Kaz  let the momentum of her blade carry it up to reverse for a downstroke which caught the creature as it flew upwards, neatly cleaving its head from its body. Her sword hissed, and the iron blade dissolved.

“What was that thing?” cried Lelyn, clinging to Protasion. “Its words were more poisonous than its blood!”

“It influenced us to turn on Protasion,” gasped Evgon. “I also ask, what could it be?”

Kaz did not answer, for she was fighting the spirit of the being she had killed.  Kaz gritted her teeth as the creature tried to bite her magical heart, taunting her that she was nothing but a deformed travesty, who would never amount to anything. The words hammered home like wounds in her heart, there was some compulsion the creature carried to believe its lies.

Kaz drew on the love of Alethos, and used the rock carving cantrips to strengthen her nails to dig into the spirit; being magical, they could do real damage. As could the wring cantrip from laundry spells. Ripping and twisting, she dove into the mind of the spirit, shuddering at its evil, its sheer contentiousness.  It had a horribly inverted form of the Truth glyph as a part of its make-up, where the concentric circles were displaced, a glyph of Confusion; as well as one of Chaos, and another travesty of the Death glyph, which Kaz read as Strife. It was almost as if this godling had been designed to counter Alethos and his followers.

And perhaps it had. 

“Go on, Kaz, rip it!” yelled Protasion, encouragingly. “We all love you! Ignore anything it says!” He, like the others, could see glimpses of the aura of the spirit as it attacked their friend and as she struck back at the near-invisible entity, biting with hard, trógling teeth into the spiritual wing, to hold the spirit and prevent it from freeing itself and escaping. Harkon stood on watch, his own sword flaming, thrusting it at the spirit to keep it from escape, his brother, Toval, and Kaz’s spirit friend, Zon, helping to peel back the layers of consciousness, to tear the spirit of something so potentially dangerous to absolute destruction. Somewhere within there was the knowledge of a giant eagle mother, wounded and stinking with some chaos disease, her nest and egg corrupted and the essence of a god entered into the egg as it was taken over.

Kaz breathed deeply. She had stored power to back her, and she threw it at the foul glyphs, wrapped around the laundry cantrip of inside-out for getting washing all the right way out.  Somewhere she was aware that Alethos was laughing himself silly. Kaz just seized all she could from the entity as it was ripped to shreds and ceased to be.

“So simple, so practical! Most people twist themselves half into loops to get glyphs to change, but you just launder them into submission,” he sniggered. “Oh, my darling, you have made the requirements to be my priest as well as my lord, and you have made the first step to herodom. You have your own glyphs.”

 Kaz sat down. She was spent, but she could feel her magical heart expanding from the fight, and from what she had ripped from the chaotic godling; and Zon, too, was stronger for his part in the fight.

 

“My egg! Someone has destroyed my egg!” raged Daze.

“Who? Punish them,” said Selen.

“I cannot feel who; the presence of both Pollonis and Arethos drown out who did it. It is probably Harkon; but at least I have stirred up hatred for him with the sun-daughters.”

 

Pollonis cast a ritual of cleansing on the shards of the egg,

“My lady,” said Pollonis. “I have asked permission of Alethos to replace your blade. Might I have the hilt of the burned one?”

“Was that acid or caustic?” asked Kaz. “I need to neutralise the wound… it is spreading.”

Alethos was there in a trice.

“It is caustic, so will not respond to being peed on to neutralise,” he said. “Vinegar, and I fancy only my healing will close it.”

Lelyn ran with vinegar, and poured it liberally on Kaz’s burned hand; the drop of spittle had taken the flesh on the back of her hand down to bone in one place and was spreading up her arm.

Kaz vomited with the pain, and Alethos concentrated.

“Paste made with the white star flower,” he commanded. Lelyn gave it to him.

“Eagle mother… wounded… I think by Toróg poisoned spear initially… further hurt by chaos disease,” said Kaz. The paste to counter the wasting poison the Toróg used on their weapons helped ease the pain, and Pollonis joined with Alethos in a chant over the wound, which closed up and Kaz sighed in relief.

“My thanks, my lords,” she said.

“I fear it will be a white scar, always,” said Alethos.

“Better by far than lose my sword hand,” said Kaz. “I was wondering if I should have to ask Harkon to cut it off for me.”

“I am glad none of us have to meet that thing grown to adulthood,” said Alethos.

“Indeed,” said Pollonis.  “And now, your blade…” Rynn passed him the hilt; she had soaked the rest of the blade in vinegar. Pollonis nodded, banishing the rest of the blade, and inscribed glyphs magically on the hilt. “When you will it, you will have a sword made of pure light; and whatever length you will.”

“Whatever length?” asked Kaz, interested.

“Once past the length of a hand-and-a-half sword it will be less effective, as the light will tend to spread out,” said Pollonis. “Such is the nature of light. Your will keeps it concentrated in the shape of a blade.”

“I am deeply grateful,” said Kaz.

“No, Daykaz; I and my father are deeply grateful to you all, to Harkon, for refusing to be drawn into something which would cause war and strife in my father’s court, and to you for battling that… thing… and recognising that it must be destroyed spiritually as well to stop it regaining a body.”

“I think we all took a big step into our destiny in a larger world,” said Kaz.

Alethos kissed her gently, and he and Pollonis left the party to hunker down by the spring and recover from a very nasty incident.

“Any idea what it was?” asked Rynn.

“A god or demi-god, new-made,” said Phaedros. Rynn had healed his broken arm.  “That, at least, I may sense. A new power to spread strife and contention, I think.  I am impressed by its swift despatch.”

“If it had had the quarrel of a choice made of one of the three, it could have split the court of Solos,” said Harkon, soberly. “And caused trouble between Solos and Alethos.”

“Neatly forestalling our moves against the interloper gods,” said Kaz. “I think we know who set this in motion; a trickster would be needed.”

There were murmurs of assent.

 

 

Pollonis grabbed his sisters by the ears as they tried to hide by his father’s throne. He looked around for Thyella.

He saw her, her face stricken with shame.

“You, at least, don’t need a lecture, my niece,” said Pollonis.

“I behaved abominably,” said Thyella.

“Then, you know what to do,” said Pollonis.  “As for you two!  Have you no shame?”

“It was only a beauty contest,” said Secalia. “We wanted a mortal to judge it. He reacted out of all proportion…”

“He did not!” bellowed Pollonis. “He treated you as shamed, as you are shamed! Using bribery on a mortal is a despicable thing to do! And to do so on a near-hero of a god of Truth is the most unutterably stupid thing anyone might do. I count Harkon now as an associate priest of mine, and I also favour him; do not try any games with him, you little ninnies!  If I thought it would do you any good, I’d give both of you a good spanking, but I fear you would only regret that it wasn’t Harkon doing the spanking. You disgust me; you let yourselves be influenced by a game of the Trickster, with an egg containing a godling of discord and strife! Had that thing hatched and persuaded some dubious winner that it was wise beyond measure, one of you could have torn the universe apart with war! Get out of sight, and don’t let me see you for a very long time!”

His sisters scrambled to get out of the field of scrutiny of their furious brother.

 

 

Back at the spring, Harkon groaned as there was a burst of lightning out of clear skies, and Thyella returned.

“Oh, no, not again,” he said.

Thyella swallowed her pride, and knelt, touching her right hand to her head, her heart, and extending the empty palm in a universal gesture of supplication.

“I have come to apologise,” she said. “I… I realised the moment you disqualified us that we had all behaved shamefully. It was… I was so caught up in wanting to be thought beautiful the way my aunts are, not laughed at for being skinny, and muscled not rounded and beautiful… I thought a warrior might, with incentives be able to see some beauty in me… but now I know I was a foolish creature, enchanted by a chaos ploy.  But even so, I should have known better than to try to bribe a judge.”

Tears ran down her cheeks, with tiny lightning bolts crackling in them.

“Please rise, goddess,” said Harkon. “Yes, you should have known better, but you have realised and you have come to make amends.  As it happens, had it been no more than a lighthearted contest, I should have declared you the most beautiful; I do not find the looks of your aunts to be to my taste at all. You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen, and I do not think that I will ever marry, for I will always measure any woman I see against your divine loveliness. And yet, that geas I carry joyfully for having the pleasure of knowing that your beauty is allied to integrity and the ability to look at yourself objectively means that I will readily accept that no other woman could stir my heart.”

“You are generous,” said Thyella.  “I would that you will accept an associate priesthood with me; I do not often accept men into my cult, as I am a goddess of warrior women, but I will be pleased to enable you to learn those glyph-spells which are unique to me.”

“I am happy to accept your act of amends without requiring such gifts,” said Harkon.

“I want to gift you, to aid your quest to support the Daykaz,” said Thyella.

“Should you not offer them to her?” asked Harkon.

“If it pleases you that I should do so; but I cannot but wonder if skills of the skies would be uncomfortable to one reared with the Toróg,” said Thyella. “If I am wrong….”

“You are not wrong,” said Kaz. “I am the mother of shadows, and those cast by your lightning make stark shadows close to the divide of light and dark. And, as you surmise, I am happier on or under the earth than above it. I will not, however, turn down friendship and an alliance, even as we are friends with your cousin, here, Phaedros.

“That, I will give right willingly. I do not like it that the Trickster might be able to control me, through some enchanted egg. I… you have destroyed it?”

“And the god of discord within it,” said Kaz, grimly.

“Good,” said Thyella. “I… I will see you all again; and call on me at need.”

Kaz inclined her head, and the goddess vanished in a crack of lightning.

“Abrupt sort of person,” said Kaz.

“But a good ally,” said Harkon. He sighed, heavily.

“When you are a hero, you can court her,” said Kaz.

“But she’s the celestial virgin!” said Harkon.

“I presume that the few square denoms of skin which make that so are no different in a goddess to those in a mortal woman,” shrugged Kaz.

“But it might affect her powers, and diminish her,” said Harkon.

“Or it might affect her powers and enhance her,” said Kaz. “You’ve heard Alethos on the subject of being unchanging playing into the hands of chaos.”

“Leave it, Kaz,” said Harkon. “Just… leave it.”