David Dalglish: Blood Of Gods

After the body was disposed of and the head was carried away to Velixar’s tent, the soldiers went back to work on the engines with renewed, fear-fueled vigor. Troubled, Velixar climbed the low hill on which Karak’s pavilion sat. His eyes kept turning toward Mordeina, its massive walls, and the tree Celestia had brought up from the earth to thwart them. In his mind, he heard Donnell’s words endlessly looping: “With the goddess defending Ashhur, what chance is there of victory?”

“Have you taught my children a lesson, High Prophet?” Karak asked when Velixar stepped through the flap and entered the pavilion. The god’s back was to him as he sat cross-legged in the middle of the tent’s empty expanse. It was a pose Velixar often found the god in whenever he came calling.

“I have, my Lord.” He hesitated before adding, “I also learned a lesson myself.”

That piqued Karak’s interest, and the deity turned about to face him. “Yes?”

“We seem to have a problem, my Lord. A problem of perception.” Velixar’s heart raced faster with every word he spoke.

Karak’s glowing eyes narrowed. “Go on.”

“Some of your children fear the goddess.” He began pacing a circle around the deity, hesitant to look Karak in the eye. “Though Chief Shen and the Quellan try to convince them otherwise, they all witnessed Celestia raise that damn tree to protect Ashhur, as well as crush your second meteor of fire.”

“They do not believe in the righteousness of my quest?”

“Your righteousness is not in question. It is that they doubt our army can be victorious if the goddess has sided with Ashhur.”

“Doubt is fear’s insidious brother, and much harder to defeat,” said Karak, and his suddenly wistful, reflective tone eased Velixar’s nerves. “Once given life, it spreads like a disease, forever growing stronger. We must crush it early and with due haste.”

“I know this,” Velixar said, and despite his trepidation, he voiced his own fear. “But my Lord. . are they right? Can we find victory if Celestia fights alongside Ashhur?”

Karak shook his head. “Once more you disappoint me, High Prophet. If Celestia truly fought alongside my brother, none of us-myself, you, this entire force we have gathered-would be here any longer. She is cosmic, she is eternal. My brother and myself were like that once, when we were whole, but no longer. We shattered ourselves to pieces, thinking that if we walked among humankind our leadership would be more potent, our relationship like a father to a child. Foolish, perhaps, but there is nothing to be done about it now. Until we once again rise to the heavens, we are weaker than she. Celestia could eliminate each and every one of us in a single human heartbeat.”

“But she defended Ashhur. She protected him.”

“She did, but not for the reasons you might think,” the deity said with an impatient grunt. “Celestia may love my brother, but she desires balance and carries a deep sense of fairness in her breast. Sometimes I wonder if she thinks Ashhur was unfairly pushed to war, or unprepared for this conflict. But more than anything, she will protect her world, and that is why we must be patient. We must be calm. We must show, not just to our own people but the very heavens itself, that we act in righteousness, that our war was inevitable, our victory a necessary.”

“As you say, I believe,” Velixar said with a bow. “But how do we know she will not interfere again? So long as our children believe the goddess is against us, their doubt will foster and grow.”

Karak frowned.

“Will my word not be enough?”

Velixar shook his head. “Consider that their own failure, my Lord, but they will not. Not while that ironbark tree blocks our path.”

His god let out a sigh.

“Our number of siege engines will grow, and soon Darakken will join our side. Come then, we shall assault the walls, and when we do, and Celestia stays her power so our battle may play out, all will understand.”

It made sense, but something bothered Velixar. If the goddess sought fairness and balance. .

“We should attack now,” he said, suddenly snapping his eyes up from the earth to meet his god’s gaze. “Before Darakken arrives.”

“We have a paltry three engines. Any attack would be fruitless.”

“Perhaps,” said Velixar with a grin. “But as you say, our men will believe once we attack again and the goddess stays her hand. We only need to bloody Ashhur’s nose to show our men that victory may still be at hand.”

Karak rose to his feet, and he put a giant hand on top of Velixar’s shoulder.

“You are wise,” he said. “And I could not be prouder of my prophet. I sense my brother’s weakness, for just as we were struck by Celestia’s interference, so too was he caught in its power. Those within the walls suffer hunger, and chaos will sow among their ranks. If valor may lead to victory while our foes brace for a much later battle. . ”

He smiled.

“Ready one of the towers, and gather a battalion of two hundred. Ensure the Lord Commander holds back his greatest warriors until I give the order. Come dusk, we will demonstrate to my children that the only thing they have to fear is my wrath.”

Ashhur’s eyes were closed, his pristine flesh like marble as he lay unconscious on the slab. His flesh was hot to the touch, as if an inferno burned within him that would soon break the surface and roast the whole world. Ahaesarus, the Master Warden of Paradise, dipped a cloth into a bucket of water, brought it out dripping, and then dabbed it against his god’s forehead. Ashhur didn’t so much as twitch as beads of water steamed off his flesh.

They were in the makeshift throne room inside Manse DuTaureau, the bastion that rested on the highest hill in the sprawling township of Mordeina. There was an empty feel to the place; whereas two weeks ago the spacious room had been constantly filled with smiling people coming to give their regards to young King Benjamin, the first king of Paradise, now only Wardens and those who called the manse home ever came calling. Ahaesarus glanced about, saw the plump young king sitting on his wicker throne. Tears streamed down Benjamin’s cheeks while an annoyed-looking Howard Baedan, the master steward of the township, rubbed his shoulders. Not that Ahaesarus could blame Sir Howard, as the man liked to call himself, for being annoyed. The king was seemingly in a constant state of duress over the last eleven days, and his endless blabbering was just as irritating as it was unproductive. Not to mention that Howard’s precious pallium was stained with the boy’s snot.

“Your people are frightened,” Howard said to the boy. “You must go outside, speak with them, ease their fears. You are the king; it is your duty. . your responsibility .”

In reply, King Benjamin only sniffled.

“He speaks the truth of it, boy,” said Ahaesarus. “You have duties to perform.”

Howard’s head shot up, and he glared at the Master Warden. Ahaesarus scowled right back. The master steward hated it when anyone referred to the young king as anything but my liege , but Ahaesarus would sooner march out beyond the walls and present himself to Karak in a frilly surcoat than bow down to this sniveling child who could not lead a grayhorn to grass, never mind an entire fledgling nation to war. This is what you wanted, isn’t it, Jacob? he thought. Your final insult to the god you betrayed?

“H-h-how can I s-s-soothe them,” the young king blubbered, his eyes locked on Ashhur’s unmoving body. “Our god is d-d-dead. W-w-we are h-h-hopeless!”

Ahaesarus sighed while once more running a wet cloth over Ashhur’s forehead. The god had been atop the wall when Karak sent a fireball from the heavens to destroy it. Ashhur had been caught in the blast, plummeting back down to earth. He’d not moved since, though his body still burned and his immortal heart still beat.