Goddess (40 page)

‘Death to the barbarians!’ he screamed again, urging his men to use their highly trained shooting skills from long distance.

Falza watched from the ship’s lookout. He and his second-in-command had squeezed into the basket at the top of the mainmast and were looking down upon Percheron.

The king squinted. ‘So, they’re putting up a fight. I wasn’t sure she would.’

‘Did you really believe she would capitulate, sire?’

‘If you’d seen her stunned face on that barge and the fear that followed, you would believe me when I say this woman had no intention of fighting us. I fully expected her to meet us at the shore in full royal regalia and beg for her life.’

‘The men are being slaughtered, my king. The enemy has the advantage of height.’

‘Send everyone in at once. At least half should get through. I want the city razed. Burn everything. Kill everyone.’

‘Everyone?’ the soldier echoed, clearly unsure he’d heard his liege lord correctly.

‘Everyone, including women and children. If they’d not fought back, I would have spared the Percherese. But the Valide is showing a distinct lack of foresight and care for her people. I’d already given her my terms. If she wants to defend her city, that’s her right. But now I shall destroy it before her eyes. Tell everyone I want the Crown Valide kept alive but everyone else is to be put to
the sword. No life but hers is to be left. I will show her the results of poor leadership before I personally take her life. Is that clear?’

‘Yes, my Lord. It will be done,’ his subordinate said, already lowering himself from the lookout to pass on orders.

Falza squinted again at the palace and hoped the Crown Valide had keen enough eyesight to watch her famed city crumble.

They hadn’t departed her chamber when they heard the roar go up. Turning bewildered back to the windows, Herezah and Bin ran onto the balcony. He watched the horror on her face as hundreds of arrows darkened her view, soaring from hidden positions on the hillside as they began their path towards the shoreline. Bin held his breath alongside his Crown Valide as dozens of these weapons found their mark. They could hear their enemies’ cries, their voices carrying up and over the olive groves where Percherese soldiers had hidden themselves, over the rocky hill upon which she stood and past the beautifully tiered gardens of the Stone Palace that seemed to hang from the steep incline on which they were tended.

‘Zarab save me!’ she hissed.

‘Ghassal has disobeyed your orders, Majesty. I was afraid he might.’

‘He said as much. May his god curse him for this. Falza will kill everyone now,’ she said, looking wildly at her servant.

He risked taking her hand. ‘Majesty, perhaps it is for the best. Percheron may be no match for the barbarians but let history show that our city fought back with courage. Let us leave behind the knowledge that you did not bow to another king, that you bravely held your ground, on behalf of your Zar, in the face of a terrible attack.’

It was the right thing to say. Bin had never known how to tell the Crown Valide that Ghassal had stopped just short of laughing in his face when he had conveyed Herezah’s orders—it had been clear that the captain had no intention of answering to a ‘mere whore’, as he had dared call her. Bin had ignored the insult, realising it was a mix of fear, uncertainty and bravado. In public the soldiers were respectful of the harem women but Bin was aware that was not the case behind closed doors. And they reserved their greatest disdain for Herezah. Even in her new role, she was still that same slave masquerading as a royal. Ghassal had told him he answered only to the Spur or their Zar. And in the absence of both he would make all the decisions for the Protectorate.

Bin had decided it would be best to let Herezah believe her orders were underway; what transpired would likely be lost in the panic, especially as Bin did not expect either of them to see another dawn. And in truth he believed Captain Ghassal was doing the right thing. He had tried to reason with the Crown Valide but she had wanted to try to protect every Percherese life at the expense of her
own. ‘Majesty, they are following their own hearts now. They have served the Zar faithfully and they love Percheron. We must allow them to fight for what they believe in.’

‘Well, I do not flatter myself in believing they fight for my life, Bin,’ she said, distracted, her voice filled with despair. ‘I admire them but they are all going to die. Look, already the Galinseans are winning. See how they use their shields as one to protect each other.’

He could see it. The enemy moved carefully, slowly, shields interlocked. With this strategy they would get numbers through and into the markets where there was instant cover. The Percherese archers would become useless from the moment the Galinseans broke through and found protection.

Bin nodded. ‘Majesty, it’s important to the men that they die bravely. Laying down arms is not courageous, no matter how senseless you believe their deaths to be.’

She sighed. ‘Let us continue to the throne room, then. We can watch the carnage from there, if we must.’

Bin bowed as the first wafts of smoke and the burning of Percheron assaulted him. He blinked back tears and wished Spur Lazar was here to guide the men towards their heroic deaths.

Lazar closed his eyes and rode the tide of Ana’s pain through the screams as she worked to birth their son.

‘Check him,’ she begged, exhausted. ‘He is tearing me in two.’

Lazar laid her back gently and moved gingerly around her, lifting her robes to expose the heart-hammering sight of the baby’s head. He remembered moments from his childhood in which doctors had rushed out to tell his father of his mother’s progress with her deliveries. So this is what they meant. ‘His head is crowning,’ he murmured.

‘That’s appropriate,’ she laughed bitterly through her agony. ‘I have to push again. He’s going to break me so expect blood.’

Break her? ‘Let’s get him out, Ana. Be brave.’

‘Be ready,’ she gasped, ‘here comes a big one, make sure you catch him,’ and then she was lost in another huge shriek as she used all her energy to push her son towards his father.

‘Push, Ana, push,’ he called above her groans.

Lazar watched the delicate skin tear as the baby’s head fully emerged.

‘Twist him slightly,’ Ana begged through gasps. ‘Help turn his shoulders to ease him out.’

Lazar obeyed. The steaming warmth of the beautiful child and its perfect, soft skin touched his heart, setting off an unexpected wave of emotion. He had thought it was Ana he was worried about and realised that his heart was also pounding hard for his son, this tiny bloodied bundle that was twisting gently into his waiting hands.

‘Are his shoulders out?’ Ana stammered breathlessly.

‘Just about. One more push, Ana.’

She found the strength and bore down desperately as the baby turned and then almost shot into his hands, an angry rush of bright red blood following.

‘He’s here, Ana, he’s here,’ Lazar wept, unable to control his emotion. ‘You’ve done it.’

He held the baby in the air as the pillars chimed their joy and Luc took his first breath, letting it out in a cry of surprise.

Colours of every hue bounced off the rocky walls and chiming music rang out, echoing around the chamber, as Lyana’s Pillars welcomed their precious child into the world.

Lazar lay the baby onto its mother’s breast and wept with her.

‘The pillars asked me to call him Luc,’ he whispered into her ear beneath the cacophony of light and joy.

‘Then Luc he shall be,’ she mouthed back. He noticed that she looked wan and exhausted.

‘What now?’

‘You must cut him free of me. Over by that rock ledge where we came in is a small sack. Look for it. Arafanz left it there—it has a blade, amongst other practical things, I think.’

‘But what—’

‘Just get the sack. We must cut him free.’

Lazar did as asked, returning with what was little more than a large pouch. Inside he found the blade, needle, thread, a bandage, a vial and some salve.

‘Cut him close. Here,’ she pointed. ‘Then tie it off with the thread. Soon I will expel the afterbirth.’

Lazar was bewildered by her knowledge. ‘How do you know all of this?’

The pillars had quietened, just throbbing their colour and softly chiming, as though listening to them.

‘I’ve watched many a goat give birth in my time,’ she murmured, almost dreamily. ‘And Arafanz explained what would need to be done.’

‘He intended to help you deliver, didn’t he?’ Lazar couldn’t help the tone of jealousy as he took out the blade that was wrapped in a cloth.

‘Arafanz intended to help me deliver, yes, but he also planned to steal my son immediately and take him to Percheron. Use the cloth to wipe the blade with what you find in that vial, so that the knife is clean before you cut the cord.’

Lazar looked at her, suddenly awkward. ‘I have been given the same instructions by the pillars.’

‘They asked you to take my child from me?’

‘Not from you. They want our son moved to Percheron straightaway. They feel he alone can prevent the war.’

‘I don’t see how,’ she moaned softly. ‘I feel so weak,’ she added.

Lazar now noticed the steady trickle of blood from between her legs. ‘Let’s get the baby separated. I think you can begin healing once you’re free of each other.’

‘You’ll need to sew me down there, Lazar. I know I’m broken.’

‘We’ll worry about that soon. Here, I’ve cleaned the blade.’

‘Then just follow my instructions. I need to close my eyes for a while.’ She made an involuntary sound of pleasure. ‘He suckles. And he’s so quiet.’

‘He is the most beautiful thing ever created. He is his mother all over again.’

She closed her eyes as she smiled at Lazar’s comment. He hated to disturb the peaceful scene and took another moment or two to etch this picture of Ana and Luc in his mind—both breathing softly, their eyes closed, their oneness intoxicating—before he made the cut.

He was alarmed by the amount of blood and watched carefully, waiting for it to be staunched.

‘Lazar, don’t pull, but keep the cord taut,’ Ana said softly. ‘My womb is pulling tight again.
It’s getting ready for me to help push out the afterbirth.’

He nodded, feeling frightened. ‘All right. Like this?’

‘Yes.’

As the placenta came free, suddenly mother and baby were rid of the lifegiving bond that had joined them and sustained each other during the pregnancy.

‘Do I bury this?’

‘No. Leave it. The pillars want it.’

Lazar felt a wave of revulsion. ‘Why?’

‘I don’t know. A part of Lyana’s incarnation, perhaps,’ she said wearily.

‘What can I do for you?’

‘Nothing. Perhaps some water if you’re strong enough to crawl back through the tunnel. There is a fresh spring at the back of the original cave and a bowl nearby that Arafanz used. Look for it. Come carefully with it, for I have a terrible thirst.’

‘I’ll be back quickly.’

‘Lazar, wait!’

‘What, my love?’

‘Will you kiss me once more?’

‘There will be plenty of time for that when—’

‘Please,’ she begged.

And he did, kneeling low to touch his lips gently to hers, a hand helplessly reaching towards the softly moaning Luc as he slept at his mother’s breast.

‘I love you,’ she whispered. ‘Never forget that, will you?’

He frowned at her sadly. She must be very tired if she was getting so sentimental. He kissed her again and then, glad to be useful, he bounded away.

Ellyana had been watching and felt intense relief when she had heard the boy’s first cry. He was strong. He could survive and Lazar would, if he unlocked his own secrets, get the child back to Percheron, fulfilling the roles of both father and son.

But Ana’s role was over. Ellyana moved swiftly, gracefully, across to the plinth where the pillars murmured a soft welcome.

Ana heard their chimes and her eyes opened. She was not surprised to see the crone.

‘Ellyana. It was your presence I felt.’

‘Yes, dear one. I did not wish to interrupt.’

‘He is safe.’

‘Do you mean your son or the man you love?’

Ana smiled sadly. ‘I think they are now one in my mind.’

‘The boy is robust.’

‘You’re taking him away from me, aren’t you?’

‘Lazar must.’

‘Please, I—’

‘Ana, beloved one. It is your time.’

Ana stared at her for several long moments before a tear escaped, rolling down the side of her
cheek to splash on the rock on which she lay. The rock seemed to absorb the moisture, thanking her with a soft chime through the pillars.

‘Must I?’

Ellyana nodded sorrowfully. ‘I’m afraid so. You are losing a lot of blood. Lazar has noticed.’

‘But he doesn’t understand.’

‘No. But I don’t think we should make this any more traumatic than it already must be. Time is short. I have come to collect you. We need what you have.’

‘I didn’t want to believe it.’

‘Believe it,’ Ellyana replied. ‘The pillars do not lie to you.’

‘Can I not say goodbye?’ she begged.

‘You already did. To prolong it would simply be cruel. He will never understand and he still has a long journey and some challenges ahead of him before we can be sure he has fulfilled his role. It is better we just do this now. All you have to do is take my hand.’

‘My son, he—’

‘The pillars protect him. They always will. You must let him go. Lazar will find him and Lyana’s work will continue.’

‘Ellyana, why can’t Lazar and I be together?’

‘Because you are dying, dear one. And we must do what we must do before you pass away. It was always going to be like this. Did the pillars not tell you?’

‘Yes. But they are ambiguous in how they speak
to me and I didn’t want to believe what I thought they were conveying. I hoped I was wrong.’

‘Come, sweet Ana. Lyana needs you, but not here.’

Ana raised herself and looked at the mess beneath her, clutching her son, who stirred and whimpered. ‘I will bleed out before we can do this.’

‘I will not allow that. We have come too far, been too cunning. And now we really must go. Maliz is not dead and although he is distracted, he will feel the arrival of his powers once they are triggered. We must be nowhere that he can find us.’

Ana began to cry. She carefully took Ellyana’s hand and felt a spike of energy pass between the three of them.

‘She is amongst us, Ana,’ Ellyana soothed, tears in her eyes. ‘We are nearly there. For her sake, you must now let him go.’

Ellyana watched with a deep sadness as the young woman—still too young to be facing motherhood, let alone death from it—kissed her baby tenderly. ‘Grow strong, Luc. Love your father and ask him about me. You must know how much we loved each other to understand how much I love you. Forgive me for leaving you.’ She kissed him again, long and softly, weeping as she did so, her tears touching his soft downy hair, golden and glinting beneath the pillar’s colours.

‘Place him down, Ana. Lazar comes.’

‘Where are we going?’

‘Back to where you came from. We go into the Samazen that protects the Mother.’

‘She cannot protect me any longer.’

‘She will take you gently to your death. You are giving her what she wants and she will always look after those you have loved.’

‘I never said goodbye to Pez.’

‘Iridor will feel your passing. He will know you said farewell. Come now, someone awaits us outside.’

Ana took one final glance at her gurgling son before, feeling close to death already, she allowed Ellyana to help her down from the plinth and remove her robes.

‘You don’t need these any more,’ Ellyana whispered, changing into the beautiful young woman Pez had first met in the harem when she had posed as a bundle woman. ‘Here, I can carry you now, child.’ And Ana fell into the woman’s arms, feeling herself borne away, as if by magic, into the sands.

Lazar struggled down the narrow tunnel, desperately trying to keep the water from spilling. Ana would appreciate the cool, refreshing sensation of its sweetness slipping down her throat. And it would help her to feed their boy. He couldn’t imagine how they were supposed to travel back to Percheron swiftly as the pillars had demanded, but at least Farim was still there in the cave opening, much to his surprise and
pleasure. He had stolen a moment to stroke her velvet muzzle, thanking her for being so faithful.

He had just emerged from the shaft when the cry of his son grabbed his attention. Startled, he noticed the child was alone on the plinth, crying wretchedly. Where could Ana have gone? And how could she have gone anywhere, bleeding like she was? He felt a surge of happiness at the thought that the bleeding must have stopped. She had probably moved somewhere away from the plinth to relieve herself.

‘Ana?’ he called. ‘I’m back with your delicious water. Where are you?’

Apart from the child’s cries, he received no answer.

Frowning deeply he put the water down and ran to the plinth to pick up their son. It was only then he noticed the robe cast away on the ground.
Ana has undressed? Whatever for?

He must have muttered this aloud without realising it for the pillars answered.
The Mother has gone
.

‘Gone?’

Taken
.

He stared at their pulsing colours.

Her robe has been left for the child. Wrap him up in it for when you leave
.

‘Leave? I’m not leaving without Ana. Where has she been taken?’

Away
, the pillars chimed, irritating him now. The baby was mewling, determined to win his
attention, and he capitulated, bending to gently pick up his son, soothing him with soft words, surprised that he could be distracted from the anger he was suddenly feeling at Ana’s disappearance. He strode over to the robe and wrapped his boy in the soft linen that was stained with Ana’s blood.

That’s it, that’s what was wrong. He whipped around, marched back up to the plinth. ‘This area was all bloodied just moments ago. Who cleaned it?’

This is an altar. We have absorbed what the Mother left us
.

‘The afterbirth, it was here, it was—’

We have consumed that also. It is now part of the temple.

Lazar knew there was little point raging at colourful pillars that could speak but he did. ‘This is outrageous. Where is Ana?’ The baby began to cry again at his yelling.

Be calm for the child
, the pillars cautioned.
It is almost time.

‘What for?’

Ana is about to die
.

‘What?’ he roared. He lost his breath, felt as though he was seeing double. He looked quickly for somewhere to lean against, lest he fall and hurt Luc and he chose a pillar. ‘You must explain, I beg you.’

Ana is dying, Lazar. She was dying from the moment her labours began. You must not blame yourself or anyone. This was Lyana’s plan
.

‘Her plan? Her
plan
?’ he demanded, ignoring the child’s squalls. ‘She is killing her?’

No,
they chimed in their way.
She is simply dying. The birth of the Goddess was always going to claim her life. You must not blame the child. Take your son, Lazar. He must go to Percheron and lay claim to the throne immediately. The war has begun and the Percherese are dying, the city is burning. There is nothing more you can do here. Take Luc and go. Ah, the time is here. Watch.