The Black God's War (45 page)

“Mya came to me in a dream last night. She showed me that she could destroy the walls of the citadel with a divine rain. Perhaps Ysa would contribute as well.”

“I won’t wait while Lucia suffers.”

Caio sensed his father feeling a great fear. “What are you afraid of, Father?”

The king straightened up his posture and his face grew intractable and proud. “We cannot trust their rajah. He is a vindictive man.”

Caio rubbed his father’s back with his right hand to comfort him. He prayed to Mya to soothe his pain. “Give your worries to Lord Galleazzo. Ask him for his grace.”

His father awkwardly raised his left hand and rested it on Caio’s back. The sides of their bodies touched one another.

“The army is prepared to leave at any time,” his father said. “We should fight today.”

Be with us, Lux Lucis.
“Very well.”

His father placed his hands on Caio’s cheeks and turned him until they faced each other. “It is good for the Pawelon girl that she has done a noble deed for the gods of light. She has healed you. She has healed our very Haizzem. This will be good for her soul.”

“Father, I do not want her to be harmed.”

His father stepped back and searched his son’s eyes. “She is a political prisoner. I will do with her as I wish.”

“Isn’t she a military prisoner? She was captured on the field of battle. I believe she falls under my domain.”

“She is a girl, not a warrior. She is the lady of Prince Rao.”

“Yet you are saying she can be put to death for interfering with a military matter.”

“Exactly what would you do with her then?” His father raised his voice and spoke more harshly, “She nearly got you killed. And she prevented you from killing their prince and winning your duel. Our people demand full justice.”

“I don’t want her to be harmed. No. Under no circumstances.” Caio weighed out whether to say it or not, then spoke his mind. “I could love her.”

His father threw up his hands and showed his teeth as he opened his mouth in shock. “Gods be damned! She’s a witch, taking control of your mind. Her foul herbs are further means of her dark magic.”

“No they are not. She healed me. I can feel her heart. She only wanted to heal me.”
And to save herself.

“She may be killing you, Caio. Not all poison acts quickly.”

“No. She is scared. Like many, her life has been ruined by this war. She deserves a good life, like anyone else.”

“Damn, Caio, you have gone mad.” His father stared at him with pained eyes, trying to make Caio feel ashamed. “Do not. I repeat, do
not
get attached to this pig.”

The king walked away with an air of finality. Caio accepted that he would not hear another word. He sensed that his father intended to make Narayani pay for what happened to Lucia and for the outcome of the duel.

I will change your mind.

Chapter 69: Killing in the Face of Death

SANYAT, A YOUNG PAWELON SOLDIER, pressed himself against the mass of bodies trying to squeeze through the narrowest section of the southern trail. The stench of thousands of unwashed soldiers lingered throughout the tightly packed unit. His spear tip pointed upward, as did all the others.

Random voices yelled:

“Keep moving!”

“Move!”

“They’re nearly here!”

The Rezzians had marched straight into the valley with their forces, not giving away their destination, then turned suddenly en masse toward the southern trail leading up to the citadel. The soldier’s commander decided, perhaps too late, to retreat with all of the southern spearmen to defend the trail at its narrowest point, supported by the archers hiding throughout the cliffs.

The soldier finally passed between the two cliff walls and continued pushing forward. “There are many behind us! Move faster!”

The ground almost seemed to shake as the pounding feet and roars of the Rezzian army arose from below. Sanyat felt the rumbling noise in his chest.

The Pawelon soldiers hiked up the trail, filling the area to create a dense wall of bodies. As the Rezzians approached, the Pawelons raised their shields into a tight tapestry to block the Rezzian throwing spears.

The attack began with the sounds of arrows and the screams of injured men.

A spear banged against Sanyat’s shield, just above his head, and knocked him onto his knees. The man to Sanyat’s left grabbed his arm and lifted him up again. Sanyat found his shield more difficult to keep steady with the spear embedded in it.

“Hold strong! Hold position!” a Pawelon commander yelled.

A resounding cheer arose down the slope from the Rezzians.

“What’s happening?” the soldier asked.

“I can’t see,” the dark-skinned soldier beside him answered.

Screams arose from the Pawelon forces, in one section after another, followed by the disturbing howls of injured and dying men. Sanyat felt his heart beating faster, his mouth dry from his quick breaths.

He pulled back his shield just enough to see what was happening. He watched a massive golden beast leap over his head. A lioness, larger than five normal lions, landed on nearby Pawelon shields and knocked over dozens of men.

“Their king is here,” the soldier beside him said, “and his lions are huge again.”

Sanyat fell as the men behind him pushed forward. He cried out as heavy Pawelon boots stomped on his legs and over his back. The harrowing sounds of dying men surrounded him.

He was just beginning to stand again when one of the golden beasts leapt toward him.

Its paw knocked the wind from his chest and pressed him to the ground. Sanyat squirmed beneath its incredible weight, unable to breathe.

He screamed as the beast’s fanged mouth tore into his skull.

The Rezzians marched on to higher ground, to the citadel itself, as Pawelon stocked its high walls with archers and sages. The Rezzians stopped within view of the fortress, outside the range of bows and arrows.

The great storm began with gale winds howling around the great fortification. Every now and then the wind carried an audible hint of a woman’s screams. Moisture rapidly condensed throughout the area. The wetness stuck to the walls of the citadel, collected along weaponry, and slid down soldiers’ bodies under their armor. Expanding brown clouds tumbled in from the east like fat ghouls seeking souls, darkening the earth and sky.

The wind and rain slammed against the fortress, wave after wave. Pawelon’s archers struggled atop the walls to keep from being thrown to their deaths. Many failed. Pawelon’s sages focused their powers to weaken the elements, but the storm of the Rezzian divinities raged on.

Indrajit climbed the stairs of the tower at the northeast corner of the fortress with two impressive guards behind him and two more ahead. The scent of rain brought an ironic freshness to the musty chamber. The viciousness of the storm echoed throughout the stairwell from far above, interspersed with the shouting of commands. Rezzia hadn’t threatened the citadel so convincingly since the early years of the war.

They walked in silence. Indrajit preferred to think. He recognized the turning tide. He’d hoped that with the royal daughter in a Pawelon prison, the Haizzem would not have the power to overwhelm Pawelon’s defenses by himself. Making matters worse, the king’s lions had grown in power and Rao was still too injured to concentrate on his abilities. Perhaps if Rezzia could be kept at bay a few more days, Rao would be able to keep the Haizzem’s power in check.

Indrajit carried another burden. He worried about Rao’s wishes and plans for the king’s daughter and Strategos Duilio, but especially matters regarding the royal daughter. His soldiers had relayed to him the topics of Rao’s daily conversations with the Rezzian woman, and each day the trust between Rao and Lucia seemed to grow.

The severity of the storm surprised Indrajit as he neared the tower’s top. Its force seemed greater than he had expected in every way: the remarkable strength of the wind, the explosiveness of rain smashing against stone, the haunting woman’s screams.

Briraji stood where he had been assigned, in the protected chamber at the top of the tower. He stood with eyes closed in a meditative posture surrounded by three other sages and far too many archers trying to hide from the storm.

“Briraji, come with me.”

The other sages and the soldiers stood at attention and saluted Indrajit with their fists raised high. Indrajit turned away.

Briraji followed as they headed back down the stairs to the first alcove that would afford them some privacy. They sat on uncomfortable stone benches against the walls, facing one another. A small candle flickered, battling the cool draft, in the deepest corner of the tiny room. Indrajit’s guards were sent to wait for them at the top and bottom of the tower.

“How does it look?” Indrajit asked.

Briraji scowled, looking down and then up again. “I can do nothing against the storm. None of our sages can.”

“Why not?”

“There are two Rezzian goddesses working together to create the storm. Their powers are combined, much greater than the sum of the two.”

“Then the king’s daughter is invoking her goddess’s powers.”

“Almost certainly, General.”

“As I feared. We can’t risk her presence any longer, not with those markings on her arms. Kill her.”

Briraji bowed. “Right away, General?”

“Yes. We’ve waited too long.” Indrajit stepped outside the alcove to make sure no one else was nearby, then returned to his seat. “I’ll tell you what I have heard about Rao. He has been speaking with the king’s daughter every day. She still doesn’t fully trust him, but she has softened her doubts. He continues to hint to her they should find a way to negotiate a peace—”

“And by that,” Briraji interrupted, “he likely intends to return this female Haizzem to the Rezzian army in exchange for Narayani.”

“Of course Rao would be fooled.”

Briraji shook his head in disgust and swung an arm through the air in frustration.

“Kill her now. The storm should weaken once she’s dead. Knowing that Rao is around her makes me uncomfortable.”

“I will, General.” Briraji stood and saluted.

Indrajit remained seated. “And relay this order to my trusted officers around the prison before you kill her. If our prince gets in your way or theirs, if he does or says anything that indicates he wishes to free any Rezzian prisoner, kill him too. Without another warning, those soldiers and sages must kill Prince Rao. He will not use our prisoners to negotiate with.”

“What if our rajah finds out?”

“These men are loyal to me. If it comes to that, tell them to blame his death on the king’s daughter. If that fails and I need to deal with Devak myself, I will.”

Briraji looked down at Indrajit, drawing and releasing one long breath. “I will certainly follow and relay your orders.”