death's knight 12

 so, the gas man cometh allegedly today. 

Chapter 12

 

“What do you want, Death?” asked Rogaz, the injured Toróg mother goddess, her six breasts torn and dripping everlasting pus from where she had been ripped from the Blue Moon by the Wolf of chaos.

“Much what you want,” said Alethos. “The death of the Red Moon and the Trickster, and the breaking of the trógling curse.”

“Many of my brightest and best already lost their lives trying to break that, and came up only with the Greater Toróg,” snapped Rogaz.

“Because they tried to perform a flawed ritual,” said Alethos. “One of mine is named the Daykaz, and is the child of prophesy. By research, her ritual to begin the end of the reign of chaos, she needs a priestess of Darkness.”

“And what do you mean by the beginning of the end?”

“You won’t like it, but I assure you it is necessary as circles must be completed in order to proceed in straight lines.”

“Don’t speak in riddles.”

“My tool is a trógling and she has to go back in time to give the trickster the idea of trógling.”

“What? Are you insane? Why should I help to produce those abominations?”

“Because believe me, if the Trickster doesn’t get the idea of Trógling, it’s likely that he would come up with something worse,” said Alethos. “My mother is Fate; trust me on this one. And my... my beloved wants to separate Trógling from Toróg and restore your fertility, and make things right.”

“Why?”

“Because she cares about her own kind and she doesn’t think she would have co-operation from you without a gift for a gift.”

“And how does making the Trógling curse come about  help my people’s fertility?”

“It’s the start of taking down Chaos,” said Alethos, patiently. “Kaz has to make sure she is born in order to have the worship of the free trógling, and deny them to the Trickster because that’s who gets every trógling and their power when they die which is why your priestesses could not break the curse.”

“What? You mean....”

“I mean that he created them, so they are by default his worshippers, without even knowing it. You could have alleviated it by letting the best of them become initiates, but you did not; so it becomes my beloved’s problem. She and our other heroes will kill the Trickster and Selen but things have to happen in order. And if she does not return in time to do this, the point will be reached when no live births of even Darklings will occur, and your people will die out.”

“And you want one of mine. I cannot think any High Toróg priestesses will find herself able to demean herself so much.”

“Kaz has identified a Darkling merchant, one Hraazaz Wealthbringer as a possible hero of yours,” said Alethos.

There was a long silence.

“I will instruct Hraazaz to come to the place you specify,” said Rogaz.

 

“Thyella, stop casting looks like a dying dog in a gutter at Harkon, and go and speak to him,” said Kaz, in irritation, after they had set off to return.  “Try holding his hand, or kissing him. But you’d better mean it, because if you change your mind and break his heart, I will be so angry with you that I will use you to practise godslaying.”

“But you already have a beloved, why should you care?” pouted Thyella.

“Because I love Harkon as a brother, as a commander, as a friend,” said Kaz. “We all do. If you are going to be our sister, we shall love you too, but if you can’t manage to change that much, either leave now and never return, or risk having your duties taken by those of us who care more about Harkon than about any windy sorts of gods whose demands and pronouncements are like the farting of goats.”

“You can be truly offensive,” sulked Thyella.

“Thank you,” said Kaz.  “We’re halting here. Leave the camp to me and just go and kiss him.”

 

Thyella went up to Harkon, and kissed him on the cheek.

“What happens now?” she asked.

“Are you trying to be funny?” asked Harkon.

She looked confused.

“No; the Daykaz told me to kiss you,” she said.

“I’ve got no time for being trifled with,” growled Harkon. “If you want me to be a man in your life, be a woman, otherwise don’t waste my time.”

“I don’t want to waste your time; and by the way, I could get us back to your base far quicker in a thunderbolt, so I don’t understand what you mean by wasting time, you’re the one insisting on walking.”

“We’re mortal. It’s the way we do things. And sometimes walking means we encounter things Fate wants us to encounter, to hear things she wants us to hear, to be seen by people she wants to see us. Zipping around in thunderbolts destroys all that rich experience of life and possibly destroys clues we are supposed to follow. Now do you want a kiss or don’t you? I don’t appreciate being teased by a poor excuse for kissing like that. I have an iron will, but no man is made completely of iron and you are cruel to flaunt yourself, and mess about with a man’s feelings without giving him at least something worth dreaming about, even if you do decide to remain the Celestial Virgin.”

“But what else am I suppose to do?”

Harkon looked into the stormy blue eyes full of perplexity and confusion, and jerked Thyella into his arms, and kissed her with an intensity which almost frightened the goddess into disappearing in a thunderbolt; but she was aware that would burn Harkon, and suddenly she realised that she was enjoying his lips on hers, and relaxed against him.

Harkon deepened the kiss and buried his hand in her hair; she was burying her hand in his and clinging to his waist with the other hand. He lifted his head and she made a sound of disappointment.

“I can step away here,” said Harkon, “But if you want more, be sure you really want more.”

“I... I want more,” said Thyella.

Kaz passed Harkon a quilt.

“There’s a nice little spinney over there; go and sort her out,” she said.

“Yes, mother,” said Harkon.

“That’s going to stick,” said Kaz, with a sigh. She organised the rest of their band into setting up camp whilst their nominal leader sorted out the volatile goddess, trying to ignore the lightning crackling about the sky and the somehow approving-sounding rumbles of thunder.

“Well, I’ve heard of noisy love-making, but not usually that noisy,” said Protasion.

“What are they doing?” asked Phaedros.

“He’s too young,” said Kaz. “It has to do with sexuality, and the fact that it is supposed to be enjoyable.”

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

It suddenly started raining.

There was also a loud chime.

“Not any more,” said Kaz.

 

Harkon and Thyella emerged with the quilt over their heads, partly clad. Kaz pointed to Harkon’s tent, and they disappeared inside it.

“Maybe we should point them at the Drylands,” sniggered Svargia.

“It’s one way of curing the world when we get rid of chaos,” said Kaz. They had set up the male and female tent end to end, and Svargia added a tarpaulin between them to be able to sit out the rainstorm together. The smell of wet wolf was not pleasant, but nobody would ask the wolves to stay out in the wet.

“I expect she’ll learn to control the weather effects when she’s more used to it,” said Lelyn, pacifically.

“I certainly hope so,” said Kaz. “Well, that appears to be over for now, so I shall go start a cookfire.”

 

Harkon and Thyella emerged for the meal, both somewhat bemused.

“Did I hear a chime of fate?” said Harkon.

“Well, if you missed it, you must have been very much distracted,” said Protasion.  “Congratulations, my lady; you have been granted the boon of fate of... well, apart from having gained the sort of lover most women would kill for, the ability to grow and learn, and be somewhere at the forefront of the gods when all this is over.”

“I let my father know with a more moderate message than he might get from some of the jealous cats who abound in the Celestial Court,” said Phaedros. “And I’m going to use my authority as his son and temple to declare you man and wife before we get any interference.” A golden ribbon of light wrapped around Harkon and Thyella, sparkling as it touched them.

“I hadn’t asked her if she wanted to commit to marriage,” said Harkon, mildly.

“Trust me, you want to be married when this hits,” said Phaedros, as the sky went black, and a gale whipped around those present.

“Oh, really, that is too dramatic,” said Kaz, irritably, as the fire coughed smoke.

“WHO HAS VIOLATED MY SISTER?” the wind coalesced into two figures.

“My DAUGHTER?” echoed the second.

“Really, Daddy, Ombros, I’m quite old enough to decide to get married,” said Thyella, sitting on Harkon’s lap, where he had sat on a log arranged around the fire.

“It’s prophesied; you can’t do a thing about it,” said Protasion,

“I will obliterate....” started Ombros.

“You’ll go through all of us and destroy the universe if you do,” said Kaz, getting up, joined by the others, standing in front of Harkon and Thyella. Harkon gently set Thyella down and strode to the front.

“She has the right to make her own choices,” he said.

“Who are you mortals who dare stand against gods?” demanded Thyella’s father. “Do you not know who I am? I am Anemois, Lord of Winds!”

“And did not my mother, Nevra, Lady of Rains, give her blessing upon our union?” snapped Thyella. “Grow up, Ombros! Let it go, daddy! This has been fortold, and we are married under the law of Solos by my cousin, Phaedros. This is the Daykaz, beloved of Alethos, and her entourage. And you know how well you handle Alethos.”

“Her choice. Not yours,” said Kaz. “And you have put my fire out, you great bully.”

A beautiful woman in a garment which was not green, or blue, or silver, but yet somehow all of them at once, with silver hair, gently materialised in a shower of rain.

“Congratulation, my daughter, you have set aside the chains of convention to embrace your destiny,” she said, kissing Thyella on the forehead, and giving Harkon a rather damp embrace. She turned to Kaz. “Thank you for helping her to her future,” she said, embracing Kaz as well, in a clammy sort of way. Kaz embraced her back.

“Fate is satisfied,” she said.

“Those of us who were listening heard the chime,” said Nevra. “Come, my husband, my son! Thyella and her husband have better things to do than to entertain us!”

“But...” said Ombros. “My sister is supposed to be the Celestial Virgin!”

“No, she was supposed to keep herself for her fate-chosen husband,” said Nevra. “Both are rewarded for helping to deliver up the god of strife spawned by the trickster. Let us depart.”

And in a damp whirlwind and a few growls of thunder, the oppressive presence of the gods departed, the black clouds broke up and dissipated, and the last of the light of the evening came from clear skies.

“When the night-born chooses the light of truth and death, look ye for the portents. It will begin with the Healing of the Wound of Shame and will tie the Beloved to Death. Look for those who were bound to be freed, those who suffer to be liberated, those despised to be loved, and look then for the terrible vengeance of the Wronged on those who will bring disaster on us all. 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. “Healing Alethos. Rescuing trógling.  She who embraces the wisdom of the judge. It’s pretty clear. And those gods who learn from it will continue to grow; those who do not, will be those who are diminished by the wars to come.”

“My brother isn’t going to survive it, is he?” said Thyella, tears in her eyes.

Protasion looked down.

“I don’t want to second guess an old prophesy...”

“I would rather know,” said Thyella.

Protasion sighed.

“It’s one of those we found today, and it refers to the madness of the wind gods and their healing by the healing trio – Alethos and his sisters – but...” he quoted. “Those who hold the seasons in their grip will be tried twice, once in the maelstrom where they might be given succour and once again when the endgame is in motion against those powers of the void when the hooves of the Skyhorse shall fall to the bloody wolf. He shall be avenged by the Bride of Storms and his powers assumed by her and her beloved.”

Thyella paled.

“That is clear enough,” she said. “Some call Ombros the Skyhorse, because thunder sounds like galloping horses. And... and he would do something like that. So... Harkon and I will avenge him and take his place as primary storm gods?”

“That was how I read it,” said Protasion.

“Oh!” cried Thyella. “Can nothing avert this?”

“Yes,” said Protasion. “Because if he can be ready to adapt and change, then he cand be one of those who embrace wisdom.  There’s another, more obscure one, ‘If the horse abjures poetry and concentrates on planning, he will grow and overcome.’ Which I took to mean leaving off advising his followers to dive in head first against chaos, but to make a more rational plan.”

Thyella sighed, and tears flowed, crackling down her face. Harkon put his arms around her.

“My brother is incapable of thinking before he acts,” she said. “Harkon, forgive me; but I have to go to him and tell him these prophesies, and try to get him to change.”

Harkon kissed her, tenderly.

“Of course, my love,” he said. “I will be waiting for you when you need me; and I understand, too, that if you are going to lose him, you will want to spend time with him.”

He was hugged, hard.

“You understand,” said Thyella, and stepped away to leap off in a crack of thunder.

“I don’t want to be a god of storms,” said Harkon.

“Then hope she can talk sense into her brother,” said Protasion.  “Or bring some of the discipline of our Lord Alethos to the way you run storms.”

“I don’t even want to think about it,” grumbled Harkon. “Kaz, can you sort out my bed roll? It’s sort of damp. And you’re best at laundry cantrips.”

“Of course,” said Kaz.

It was what Harkon had not said, that he wanted comforting daily ritual, not prophesy.

“There was another bit of that first prophecy,” said Kaz.

“‘She who weeps in the dark will find freedom forever if the brave can break the curse that holds her,’”  said Protasion. “I read that as rescuing Mycota from Tor.”

“Fate doesn’t want much,” said Kaz, humorously.

 

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!”