The Black God's War: A Novella Introducing a New Epic Fantasy Page 7

  Rao settled deeper within himself, calling on deep reservoirs of spiritual energy, and visualized the stream of psychic energy vanishing to nothing.

  It exploded outward with an electrical burst and scattered his consciousness with it. An unknown length of time passed before his awareness coalesced again on the ground near the royal daughter. Her unique aura revealed a strange blend of spiritual light, potent aggression, and fear.

  Rao focused his attention to stop her before she could conjure another miracle. He could attack her subtle body directly, leaving her spirit fragmented. Or, he could take a very different approach, one full of risk and hope.

  Rao studied the shimmering light and pulsing darkness around her aura. He decided to address the light. He sent toward her a great thought form, an idea that would go deeply into her subconscious mind.

  Peace …

  He watched her aura ripple.

  Her consciousness became still, then inactive like someone beginning to sleep.

  A flash of light washed over him.

  Rao opened his eyes to a blue sky, lying on his back on an empty patch of land not far from General Indrajit.

  My spiritual energy is gone.

  Indrajit was in the midst of an intense discussion with Briraji and four other high-ranking sages. Rao formulated his argument, stood, and ran toward them.

  He tried to appear full of breath and vitality as he approached them. “General Indrajit, Briraji, I’ve stopped the royal daughter from connecting with the elements. She controlled the storm. Her power could return, and I may not be able to stop her next time. We should leave now, before she acts again.”

  Briraji only scowled, while Indrajit’s gaze seemed to be searching Rao’s soul. Indrajit turned to Briraji, but the sage had no words.

  What other choice do you have now, general?

  The general yelled to his messengers, “Call for our full retreat.”

  His instructions commanded the archers and sages to work together to create enough arrow fire to deter the Rezzians from following them. Pawelon could not engage Rezzia’s forces directly without risking being overrun, nor could they afford to wait for the rest of their forces with the desperate Rezzian army so close by and the royal daughter still among them.

  The Rezzians apparently did not wish to see the multiplying of Pawelon’s arrows again. They stood their ground and yelled insults as the Pawelons backed away and retreated toward their citadel.

  And so the armies returned, Rezzia to their camp and Pawelon to their fortress, dragging their dead and supporting their wounded.

  Chapter Ten: The Unseen One in Prophecy

   

   

  Lucia dreamed …

   

  CAIO SLIPPED OUT OF BED after midnight wearing a plain white robe. He quietly removed Lucia’s letter from under his pillow and exited the yurt, relieved that Ilario remained asleep. Outside, he covered his mouth to ask the guards to remain quiet. As Caio walked away, ten soldiers silently followed.

  He turned away from the winding road packed with sleeping reinforcements and walked into the desert, heading for a distant hill. The night was bathed in soft moonlight, smelling of sage, filled with the chirping of insects. The soldiers followed at a respectful distance.

  Caio asked them to remain at the base of the slope and began to climb. Lucia’s curling parchment crinkled as he pressed it into his palm. After reaching the peak, he gathered ten large stones and set them in a circle as an altar to the gods of Lux Lucis.

  He prayed out with passion, “Lord Oderigo, God of Prophecy,” and then placed the letter at the heart of the makeshift shrine. “I seek your light and beg you for rays of truth. Why does Lord Danato stalk my sister in the quiet of night?” Caio prostrated, lowering the crown of his skull to the earth.

  Many heartbeats passed as no response came …

  Rocks stirred in the distance.

  Heavy footsteps walked toward him.

  A loud pop shattered the quiet—the sudden closing of a heavy book.

  The figure approached, kicking dusty stones at Caio.

  “Look to your Lord.”

  Caio lifted his head to see majestic Lord Oderigo covered in vines and lowering the heavy Book of Time to him. The god’s luminous skin smelled of holy myrrha, so much that it transported Caio to boyhood memories of ecstatic worship at the Reveria. Oderigo’s eyes were vacant black portals stretching into the future and past, into all that had been and all that would come to be.

  “Stand and read.”

  The Book of Time rested on Oderigo’s enormous hands, its pages edged with gold. Caio bowed his head, held out two fingers on each hand to thank his lord, and opened The Book. He read accounts of Lucia’s long suffering, of the fervent interest The Black One held for her since the death of their mother. Caio grimaced as he read on under the radiant light of the moon, all the way through to a prophecy of the present day:

  And so a choice lay before the daughter and son of King Vieri. Lord Danato’s terrible vision was certain: the war with Pawelon would not end for another ten years. That is, unless the pair journeyed to Lord Danato’s fabled underworld, that harrowed place which confronts men with their shadows and promises tragedy in compensation for His mercy.

  Caio closed the book, looked down, and shut his eyes.

  The wind howled a deep, echoing tone.

  He looked up and found Oderigo gone. Lord Danato towered over Caio, his black skin reflecting the bright moonlight.

  Caio fell to his knees and spread his arms forward in prostration to The Black One.

  Lord Danato picked up Caio with both hands, his pointed nails cutting into the Haizzem’s chest.

  He wrapped his pitch-black fingers around Caio’s neck and squeezed so tightly Caio’s choking failed to produce a sound.

  Caio’s eyes trembled with sorrow as they closed. Danato released his corpse onto the stony altar.

   

  ~~~~~

   

  Peace to you … Caio prayed for Lucia and looked down on her distressed, sleeping face.

  Lucia woke with a gasp.

  Caio sat in a chair beside her bed, his heart overflowing with love for her. He had lit the candles on her dresser after he entered her yurt. Shadows danced around the room.

  I was so afraid I’d never see you again, he thought.

  “Caio!” She left her mouth open and blinked repeatedly, as if she thought her eyes were deceiving her. Only her face peeked out from beneath the cream wool blanket.

  “I had to see you as soon as I arrived. We were too close to stop again overnight.”

  “Is it really you?”

  He leaned down to hug her through the blanket, and she squeezed his chest so hard he stopped breathing.

  “Are you well?” she asked. Lucia let go and let Caio sit up again.

  “Yes. I am only tired. I haven’t been able to stop thinking of you.”

  She frowned, seeming at a loss for words.

  “I’m so sorry,” he said. “I’ve never been able to know what you are feeling—I don’t know why. I wish you had told me before now.”

  “You didn’t need to know. Did you consult with Lord Oderigo?”

  “Yes. I couldn’t sleep after I got your letter. I went out alone into the desert, and he came to me—”

  “Lord Oderigo did? What did he say?”

  “He showed me The Book of Time. I saw many things. And,” Caio considered his words carefully, “he showed me that Danato’s message is indeed very serious. But there may still be another way.”

  “What did you see? What other option do we have?”

  Caio had already decided not to tell her what he read about visiting Lord Danato’s underworld. Scripture promised that such a journey might cause more problems than it would solve. “It is up to us to find another way.”

  “Caio, I dreamt about all of this. Just now, just before I woke up. I was there. I saw you.” Lucia’s brow tightened with concern. “At first I
saw Lord Oderigo with you, but then, after you read from The Book, in my dream Lord Danato himself stood over you.”

  “No, it was only Lord Oderigo.”

  “And I read … did you read what Danato has done to me?”

  Caio hadn’t planned on letting her know. “Yes.” He wondered if in the dream she read the same thing he did about visiting Danato’s underworld, but he wasn’t going to bring it up. They stared at each other in silence. Caio felt too afraid to say any more about what was written in The Book.

  “Ilario is outside. If you want to see him—”

  Her eyes sparkled. “He’s right out there? I just need a little time to get dressed.”

  “Of course. We both want to hear about what you’ve been through.”

  “I’m sure that would do me some good.”

  Caio leaned down and kissed her cheek. She smelled of jasmine and perspiration.

  “I couldn’t have waited another day for you,” she said. “I’ve thought up a plan.”

  Chapter Eleven: The Lovers’ Respite

   

   

  ILARIO WAS CHATTING with Lucia’s guards, recounting the glorious Dux Spiritus ceremony, when Caio exited the yurt. The soldiers dropped to their knees and prostrated again. Caio thanked them for their service and walked among them, touching the backs of their heads to bless them.

  As Ilario hunted for movement in the darkness, with his ears keen to every rustling noise, anxiety still vexed him. “Is she … ?”

  “She’s all right. She wants to see you. She’s getting dressed.”

  Ilario nodded and tried not to look too eager to see the most arresting woman he’d ever laid eyes on. Over the years, he’d hid from his feelings for her with countless pretty faces and fleshy bodies that meant nothing to him. All the while, Lucia rejected every suitor who proposed to her. If she was actually waiting for him, she wouldn’t be able to wait much longer.

  Lucia opened the doors of her yurt, rivaling the beauty of the moonlight. She wore a flowing, long-sleeved brown dress. The fabric clung tightly around her hips and ruffled near her shoulders and feet. Her breasts were fully covered, but prominent enough. “It’s good to see you, Ilario. Come in.” She touched his shoulder with one of her gloved hands and met his gaze with her guarded eyes.

  Already you give me more than I deserve, he thought.

  Candles glowed atop a dresser and from two tables on opposite sides of her bed. Against the fabric wall to the left, the armor and sword of Ysa glinted in the wavering light. Ilario bowed his head to pay respect to the goddess’s relics. Amber resin incense burned and smoked atop an antique chest.

  Lucia sat at the edge of her cream bed, facing the doors, and Caio and Ilario sat down in wooden chairs before her.

  “Are you all right?” Ilario asked.

  Lucia glanced down and narrowed her eyes, blinking.

  Caio rested his elbows on his thighs and leaned forward. “Dear sister, you are safe now. The messengers told us the goddess Ysa saved you?”

  Lucia looked away and wiped a tear from her cheek. “Yes, Ysa saved me.”

  “They only told us you were found unconscious,” Ilario said.

  Lucia seized him with her obsidian eyes. “After we survived the object from the heavens— truly a miracle—Ysa channeled a great storm through me, through her implements, and then …” She stopped and struggled to swallow. “I felt a great evil around me. Dark Pawelon magic. I felt a presence. I am certain someone was there, close to me. I thought I was going to die. That’s the last thing I remember.”

  Ilario jumped to his feet and pounded the floor as he paced the side of the room opposite Ysa’s ancient metal. “We are going to find whoever did this to you.” He finished each thought with a swing of his fist. “We are going to find him. And I am going to bloody kill him. I swear to you, I am going to kill the pig that did this to you.”

  “I wouldn’t mind that,” she said, “but I need to tell you, I’ve had a change of heart about the war. I never liked the idea of it, but after seeing its worst, Ilario, we’ve got to end it.”

  Ilario stopped his pacing and stared at her. First Caio, now you?

  “I agree,” Caio said. He knelt on one knee at Lucia’s feet. “We almost lost you. We’ve lost so many. Palla and Nese are gone forever. How many more?”

  “I’m not really important here,” Ilario began, “but isn’t it your duty to win the war? We could put an end to all this at any time by fleeing, but then Pawelon would actually win. And all this effort, all these lives, would be for nothing.”

  “Ilario is right.” Lucia’s steady voice put Ilario’s mind at ease. “Our people have sacrificed too much for this to end without our victory. My hope is that we can force Pawelon to surrender. I have a proposal, if I may, Dux Spiritus.”

  “Of course, Lucia. I always trust your counsel.”

  “I believe if you can deal a quick, decisive blow, we may be able to shock them into surrender. They’re desperate. They’re clearly afraid of you. If you can overwhelm them in your first engagement, we could send a shocking message.”

  “We haven’t engaged them since you were hurt?” Caio asked.

  “No. Duilio and I decided to wait for you. Since the battle, they’ve remained close to their fortress. We don’t really know if their tactics will be different when we next face them, so we may have the chance to meet another sizable force. Caio, if you pray to Mya and I to Ysa, we can ask that our advance be concealed with a great rain until we come upon them. If our goddesses are with us, they’ll grant our request.”

  Lucia sat on the floor and used her fingers to paint a crude map, illustrating the situation. “They have two sentry outposts in the valley, one to the north and one to the south. If we could overrun one of them without being noticed and then conceal our advance, their defenses would have no warning. We could go out together, with just a small number of warpriests, and use our prayers to overcome these sentries.”

  If Ilario didn’t already respect Lucia’s competence, he would have thought her idea reckless and mad.

  She leaned back against her bed and continued to hold their attention. “I’ve already discussed this with Duilio. He would go out as a distraction to the southern sentry. With luck, they might divert too many of their forces toward him. Behind us, in the north, our strongest units can march behind whatever weather we can conjure and surprise their forces on the northern trail, allowing us to march straight to their citadel.”

  “About these sentry outposts, what would we be up against?” Ilario asked.

  “The garrisons are in remarkable defensive positions. They sit atop two of the highest peaks inside the canyon, stocked with archers and sages. Duilio tells me we have overtaken the outposts before, but always at a great loss of life, losing many thousands in exchange for the few hundred men they station there. They’ve taken them back from us each time, somehow much more easily. Because of this, for years now we’ve left the outposts alone. It’s not as if we keep great secrets from them. But in this case, if our goddesses conceal our advance, surprising their main defenses could be a great advantage. It would add to their fear of our Haizzem.” Her eyes narrowed as she finished.

  “And you feel that if we achieve a great victory—” Caio started to say.

  “Yes, I think they might realize what they’re up against. If you can punish them soundly and impress them with your power, perhaps they would be willing to discuss terms for surrender.”

  “Your father won’t accept their surrender,” Ilario said. “He’ll want to destroy them completely.”

  “Ilario, you’re right. But this is your army now, Caio. You can decide our strategy. If you want this war to end without a great slaughter, we have to try something different. But if Father questions you, you’ll have to stand firm.”

  “He’s got so much invested in this war.” Caio walked over to the smoking incense and took in a deep breath. “But I can’t allow tens of thousands more to die. If I can stop thi
s fighting, I must. How can I let so much blood be spilled under my command?”

  “You don’t have to, Caio,” Lucia said, still leaning against her bed. “You command our forces now. You must accept and embrace your role, because you will have to live with the consequences, as will many others.”

  Now this is a surprise, Ilario thought. After all that Lucia had been through, to hope for mere surrender? What about the men who gave up their peaceful lives for the chance to defeat Pawelon completely and gloriously? Casting them aside and allowing diplomats to deal the final blow would be an insult to their honor. But I’ve already said too much.

  “I agree with you. If we can enact your strategy, we will,” Caio said.

  “We should act before they even realize you are here,” she said. “It’s good you’ve come early. It might give us another surprising element if we can leave in the morning.”

  “Very well. We will need to get some sleep then,” Caio said. “I’m going to step outside for some air, Ilario. The guards there are protection enough. I’ll let you get caught up.”

  “My Haizzem, I cannot leave your side.”

  “But you aren’t leaving me. I’ll be right outside, with ten of Rezzia’s most capable men. They protect my sister. I’m sure they can watch over me.”

  Lucia watched them silently.

  “Just for a little while then,” Ilario said.

  Caio embraced his sister before he left. Lucia sat at the edge of her bed. Ilario stopped pacing and returned to his chair.

  Ilario told himself, Don’t ruin this. Don’t offend her. Just be yourself. “It’s really good to see you again.”

  “I’ve prayed every day that you and Caio would arrive early. My prayers were answered. How is he doing?” Lucia sounded just as awkwardly formal as he did.

  “He really struggles with the concept of warfare. He’s still accepting his role.”

  “If we succeed tomorrow, he may not have to fight again.”

  Until the next war. “Let’s hope so.” Come on, this is your chance. “I really … I can’t wait to hear about all you’ve been doing. Everywhere you’ve been. And, what you’ve done here.”

  “Ilario, I feel like I’ve been tasked with one thankless burden after another, year after year.” Lucia stared at the fragrant smoke and let out a deep breath. “I’m tired of the traveling,” she paused again, “and I’ve seen enough death and gore now to last me the rest of my life.” She turned her attention back to Ilario with a sober look. “I don’t have any more time to waste. I feel like I’m still looking for something greater.”