Mighty Hammer Down (29 page)

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Authors: David J Guyton

Tags: #fantasy, #magic, #politics, #libertarian, #epic, #epic fantasy, #greek, #series, #rome, #roman, #greece, #sword, #high fantasy, #conservative, #political analogy, #legend of reason

BOOK: Mighty Hammer Down
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"Their torment is for the good of the
people. They must go through this if I am to be able to spread your
word and have the world fall to their knees before you."

Your dedication to me
rivals that of the Medoran. It pleases me that you understand and
accept the task before you.

"I am proud to serve you, my master.
You have only to command me, and your will shall be
done."

My first command is that
you not bother me here in this world again. I have duties which
must not be interrupted. I will come to you when I require your
service. You will not recognize me as the god you envision, but you
will feel my presence and know that your god stands before
you.

"You mean that you look different than
I imagine? What do you look like, master? I cannot see you in this
world, but only a swirling blackness."

This is the form I take
here, just as the souls of men take the form of lights here. In
your world and in my own, I wear robes of black, and have the face
of the dead.

"I don’t understand. You mean there
are three worlds? This one, mine, and another?"

There are more worlds than
you are aware of. You cannot possibly comprehend them with your
human mind, so I will not explain them. These three, however, are
within your grasp. You have the world in which you live. There is
also this realm between worlds where I manage the souls of the
dead. My world is what the Medorans and Vindyri call the Land of
the Gods. The doorway between your world and mine is in the
northern part of the land which is now called Vindyrion. They think
that this land is simply north of your lands, but it is not so.
Both worlds coexist and overlap, which allows me to pass between
them and show myself in your world. It is only the entrance which
lies to the north.

"So this world we are in now is the
realm of the dead?"

No. This is the world of
souls. There is a city of the dead in my world called Morendiir
where the dead are punished for eternity. Some are permitted to
leave Morendiir and do not suffer any punishment. This all depends
on their faith and service in their years in your world. But no
matter where the soul resides, it is connected to this world we are
in now.

"I think I understand master. I will
trouble you no further, for I know you have great works to do. Know
that I am doing your work in my world, and my people live only to
serve you. Thank you for giving me the information to strengthen my
power. I must go and rest, for I am drained from my trip to wake
the Dirujen."

The mass of blackness
shook with an odd sort of silent laughter.
You foolish mortal. You do not know the forces you tempt. You
cannot possibly control the Dirujen.

"Have faith in me master, as I have
faith in you. I am confident that I have done the right thing, and
it is all going according to the plan the Medoran and I made. The
Dirujen will do us no harm."

We shall see, Bhoor. I
will come to you when I need you. Until then, continue working with
the Medoran. His goals are similar to yours, and your strength will
be greater if you work together.

"I will master. We will continue as we
planned," Zidaoz said as he felt a force upon him pushing him away
from Rohni and back toward the dizzying spectacle of lights
churning around him. He was being driven back to the world of the
living, and the swirling lights of the souls around him was
disorienting. He saw the heavy, colorful mists hanging between the
souls and could wonder only briefly at their purpose before he
found himself back on the carpet in the center of his tent. He
reached to his nose and felt for blood, and, like all the times
before, he found it. He rubbed the thick wet substance between his
fingers and smiled. Soon blood would be a welcome addition to his
ritual. But the blood he needed was not his own.

 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

 

Two days had passed since Zidaoz met
with his god in the world between worlds. His soul sang with joy
when he thought back to the monumental event. It was exhilarating
to finally have knowledge of his god, and not depend simply on the
words carved into history. Faith was impressive, but knowledge was
power. He stroked his long beard as he contemplated whether or not
to tell the Medoran about meeting Rohni.

His pleasant thoughts were interrupted
by an even more pleasant sight. He had finally returned to Zuhr,
and sat in his throne room waiting patiently. Three soldiers came
through the open doorway before him, each of them guiding a person
in front of them. A light breeze blew softly and caused the
detailed fabrics on the walls to flutter and flap. The soldiers had
done exactly as he asked them to, and brought a father, a mother,
and a young girl to his palace.

He looked to each of them in turn,
unable to control his smile. "Hello and welcome to my palace. I am
sure you are wondering why you have been given this great privilege
and honor."

The father, obviously nervous, fell to
the floor and bowed, pulling his wife down beside him. "We are
honored, Zidaoz. We live only to serve you."

"And serve me you shall, my fellow
Bhoor." He gestured to the little girl standing beside her kneeling
mother. "Come here, little one."

The tiny child looked to her mother
for guidance. She obviously was not old enough to understand the
importance of them being in the presence of the Zidaoz. Most Bhoors
would never see their ruler at all, let alone speak to him and see
him smile. The mother nodded to her daughter nervously, and then
put her head to the floor, locking herself in a bow of respect. The
child approached the throne cautiously.

"Do not be afraid, little one. You are
a very special child, did you know that?"

"Yes, mother tells me so," came the
soft words from her tiny mouth.

The Zidaoz smiled down to her. "Come
up here and sit on my lap." He helped to pull her up and turn her
around, and with one arm hugged her tightly to his body. With his
free hand he cupped her little chin and squeezed her cheeks
lightly. He again found himself smiling and unable to stop himself.
He nodded to one of the soldiers hovering behind the girl’s
kneeling parents.

In an instant, they grabbed the mother
and held her. The father began to stand, but the blade of a sword
pierced his back and struck him down. The mother screamed as the
men hacked away at the body until it was nothing more than a
gruesome mess of meat and bone on the floor. The little girl’s
screams echoed her mother’s in a twisted sort of
harmony.

When the soldiers turned to the
mother, the little girl tried to turn away. The Zidaoz held her
face tightly, keeping her from escaping the sight. When she closed
her eyes, he squeezed as hard as his arm would allow, the pain
making her open them. The soldiers laughed while they mangled the
body of her mother, just as he had instructed them to do. He could
feel the hot tears roll over his hand as he forced the little girl
to watch the grisly event. His smile widened.

He put his mouth close to the little
girl’s ear. "This is only the beginning, little one. This is only
the beginning."

 

 

 

Chapter 22

 

Alana gently traced the flowing lines
of delicate scrollwork on the hilt of the sword Rommus had given
her. There were no gold details like there was on her dagger, but
it was just as impressive with its highly polished silver
appearance. Its color was different than any sword she had ever
seen, and in certain lights she could see that it was not exactly
silver, but a very faint, cool blue color. It was hard for her to
determine if it was actually suitable for battle, since its beauty
made it seem like it was for decoration only.

She turned her attention from the
sword to the forest in front of her. Since they had not had time to
prepare for their journey, they had spent most of the time
starving. Rommus had seen a merchant cart on one of the major roads
and went off to see if he could purchase any food. He said that he
would have to be careful, and that he was going to avoid the road
as long as he could before meeting up with the man. He told her
that he would return by a path in these woods, and to watch for him
there.

She wondered briefly if Mages could be
merchants. The thought made her uncomfortable and she worried for
Rommus. Even if the man was a Mage in secret, he was obviously from
some distant town, and could not have known of the recent events in
Brinn. She breathed deeply and let it out slowly as she hoped that
she was right. She listened carefully for their voices, but they
were obviously too far away to be heard. She turned her attention
back to the sword in her lap.

Her thoughts wandered as she resumed
tracing the details of the sword. She had been feeling more and
more guilty for what she had tried to do to Rommus’s father. She
tried to forget about it, but every time she saw Rommus and saw
what a good person he was she felt an icy stab of pain in her
heart. The General might have deserved it, but she was no longer
sure that it was the right thing to do. How could she take away the
only person in the world that Rommus had?

Then she heard something in the woods.
Her body sang with a mixture of fear and hope; fearing an attack,
but hoping it was only Rommus. She gripped the hilt of her sword
tightly in anticipation for the worst. She almost screamed when she
heard a voice behind her.

"It’s just me," Rommus said
quietly.

Her breathing was about twice as fast
as it should have been. She quickly jumped to her feet. "How did
you get behind me? I thought you said you were going to come out of
those woods."

"Well, it worked out better to come
out from the woods over there," he said, pointing behind him. "The
road curves around through here, and I met up with the merchant
farther down than I thought I would. Did I scare you?"

"Yes you scared me!" she said as she
smacked his arm. "It wasn’t funny."

"I didn’t mean to," he said with a
smile.

"What was the noise I heard over there
if it wasn’t you?"

"Oh, I threw a rock over your head
into the woods when you were looking down."

Her mouth dropped open like a mother’s
would, amazed at how naughty her little boy could be. "So you had
every intention of scaring me."

"I’m just trying to keep you on your
toes. Did you miss me?"

"Oh stop it," she said. "You said the
man was a merchant. Did you get any food?"

Just then she noticed that one of his
hands was hidden behind his back. He brought it out into sight and
presented a sack with a few rolls, some dried meat, and a small
water skin inside. It wasn’t much, but it was something. Suddenly
hunger was more important than conversation, and they both sat down
there in the rolling field and began eating.

She looked up at him and watched him
chew; his jaw muscles moving in rhythm. "Rommus, you need a shave.
Look at yourself." She playfully ran the back of her hand up his
cheek.

He brought his own had to his face and
felt the bristles. "I know. We have been out here so long that I
have not had the chance. We missed two towns by avoiding the
road."

"Actually I like it. I think it looks
good like that."

"Well it itches. I can’t stand it," he
said as he scratched his neck.

"So why don’t you shave it then? You
have a sharp blade there."

He pulled the golden sword from the
scabbard at his hip. "It’s not that I need a blade, I need a
mirror. I can’t see what I am doing. Besides shaving dry hurts you
know."

"You men and your beards. I can’t
imagine having one."

"They are certainly a hassle. I could
do without them," he said as he brought the sword up and gently
scraped his neck. He quickly jerked it away from his face when he
realized he had cut himself.

"Rommus! Are you all right?" she said
as she saw blood trickle down his neck.

He brought his hand up to comfort his
wound. "Yes, I’m fine. It’s just a little cut. How foolish of me to
do that. I wasn’t really going to try to shave with this
thing."

"Let me see it," Alana
said.

"I’m fine," he said, revealing his
wound to her.

She looked at his throat for a while.
"I don’t see the cut. I just see a little blood."

He took the small water skin from the
sack and poured a little water in his hand. He washed the blood
from his throat and rubbed it, trying to locate the cut. "That’s
odd. I don’t feel it."

She again examined his neck. "I don’t
see it either. Wow, you must have just barely nicked the skin. I
can’t believe that it didn’t bleed more."

He smiled. "I guess I’m just lucky.
I’ll wait until we get to the next town to finish
shaving."

She resumed her meal and relaxed. "How
far away is the next town?"

"Not far. These woods end pretty soon,
and when they do, the road is out in the open, so we’ll have no
more cover. Luckily though the town is located right where the
woods ends, so we can at least blend in with the people
there."

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