The Godlost Land (60 page)

Chapter Fifty Five

A month after Blue Water, Erislee stood on a hill overlooking Eversummer, the largest city and capitol of Vardania, and wondered for the thousandth time just how she could be staring at what she was.

The city was theirs, and though she held the counts in her hands she didn't need to look at them to know that they had lost almost no one. Five more temples had been burnt, and the smoke was rising high into the clear blue sky from them. Two hundred thousand people had been freed from the yoke of the tyrant. She had no idea how many thralls and chimera now lay dead on the streets. Most of them had been dead long before they had arrived.

The Circle's wizards and their army had shown up three weeks before them, and torn the heart out of the temples. Easily five hundred thralls and twenty thousand chimera had been slaughtered, their bodies filling the streets. But just as many wizards and soldiers had died with them, and their bodies too were filling the streets.

By the time they had arrived, the battle for the city had been long finished, and all they had to do was finish off the survivors. In this case that amounted to a few hundred thralls and as many chimera. The demon king's armies had beaten the wizards, but only just. And when Erislee's forces numbered thirty or forty thousand by then, the battle had been less than an afterthought.

The same pattern had been repeated over and over again throughout the realm. The other two cities in Vardania, Passion Valley and Westborough had also been devastated long before their forces had arrived. So much so that their small advanced armies of five thousand men apiece had taken them by themselves. There were so few enemy survivors that there had been no point waiting for the full army to arrive. And with Cloverfield also fallen to them months before, the last of Vardania's cities was theirs.

All across the realm the same story was being retold. In small towns and large, wherever they went, the false temple had gone to war with itself and the result had been calamitous for them. Even more than that, they were coming across battle grounds outside of the towns as well. Graveyards in truth where hundreds and thousands of the enemy had killed one another in their insanity. There at least though a pattern had been obvious. The wizards and their soldiers had all been riding north east for the passes through to the Kingdom of the Lion when they had been attacked by chimera. Most often the attackers were harpies. Vardania being a lower lying land where the creatures could fly more easily, was riddled with them.

Erislee had slowly been getting used to the story. It made no sense but it was at least familiar. But standing there staring at the city with the clouds of black smoke rising into the clear blue sky, she knew she would never understand it. This had been the last major battle for the realm, and in truth it hadn't been theirs. She wasn't completely sure what to make of it.

“High Priestess?”

She turned to see Gallin standing there behind her, his battle axe hanging from his belt, unused this day but still covered in dried blood from scores of other battles. Just as he himself was covered in scars from them; many of them old. His armour consisted of little more than leather rags – claws and teeth had all but shredded it in places – but he hadn't bothered to replace it. He was comfortable in his leather rags, and comfort was more important to him than fashion. And as always she found herself a little in awe of him. Of his boundless vitality. Even as he stood there looking calm and relaxed she knew he was a little like a wild cat, ready to pounce. And whatever he pounced on would die.

He wasn't a war master – he refused that or any other title – but he was the leader of the wild men and they more than any others she suspected, understood the thoughts running through her mind. They had been running and hiding for five long years. Fighting only when they had to; never starting the battles. It had been the only way they knew to survive. And always they had thought of the enemy – the false temple – as being too powerful to challenge. As being a juggernaut beyond their ability to withstand. Now the false temple was tearing itself apart in front of them and like her they simply didn't know how to make sense of it.

“Gallin, thank you for coming.” She had sent for him, but not she suspected for the reason he expected. He was used to being given orders to do something violent, or else asked for information about a town or a city – the wild men had fled across most of the five kingdoms and so wherever they went some among their number would know the region. “How are your people?”

“Happy.” He answered her without the need for reflection. “Confused but happy.”

“Good.” And it was good. She knew that. It was just that none of them could believe what was unfolding before them.

“Eversummer has fallen. Again largely by its own hand. And with it Vardania has become ours. There is still work to be done here, still scores of smaller towns that need to be liberated. And so in the morning I will begin preparations to divide the army up into a dozen smaller armies. They will spread out across the realm, liberating every town and village they come across, and then regroup within two months at the northern passes leading into the Kingdom of the Lion.”

“As we speak Theris is preparing one more army in Glass River, another force of ten thousand soldiers and war machines, who will march north towards the kingdom as we do. They too will cross into the Kingdom of the Lion within two months. And the dryads of Inel Ison are also breaking through, slowly conquering the Enteria Regency as they travel west towards us. But they are slower than us. The dryads are not familiar with warfare. They are not accompanied by unicorns and griffins. And in the Regency it appears that there has been at least some resistance to their forces. More so than here.”

“The same is true in the north, but I can do nothing for the dryads of Pariton. Not when the enemy lies directly between us and them. But I would like to at least aid the dryads of Inel Ison if I can. I would like for them to be met. As they push west through the Regency, I would like your people to push east through it. And when you meet I would like for you all to turn north west if you can and begin the march on the Kingdom of the Lion.”

“You can travel faster than the other soldiers. You'll be quicker to cross back through the Rainbow Mountains, cutting through the forests and rough terrain than we would be. I'm guessing that what would take us over a month you can do in half that time. And many of your people know the realm. So you can scout it, find where the enemy remain in strength, and then attack with the element of surprise.”

It was a difficult thing she was asking of the man and his people. To leave her side in the midst of a war when they had come to stand with her. It was a hard task she was giving him too. If he or his people had been regular soldiers she would never have even considered it. But they weren't. As time went by she was beginning to understand that more and more. The wild men weren't regular anything. They were the absolute peak of what warriors or barbarians should be.

They were very fast – they could run anywhere where soldiers marched, and they could cross country that horses and wagons couldn't. They could even forage as they ran where an army would starve.

And then when they reached their destination and had scouted out their enemy, they could unleash the fury of Hades itself on their enemies. With axe or bow, sword or staff, they were the absolute masters of war. She guessed that was because five years of running, hiding and fighting had made them that way. Those who could fight had learned how to do so exceedingly well. Those who couldn't had died. And these were the people who had lived. The very strongest.

Still, this was no small thing she was asking of them and she knew it.

“I know that this may seem a heavy task I'm giving you and your men. But if the enemy there is as badly torn apart as the false temple is here, it won't be too heavy. You are over four thousand strong and all of you are capable warriors. While all our reports suggest that the temples may still stand, the pens and barracks are largely empty. And of course there will be no wizards or trained soldiers. My hope is that the false priests will all be concentrating so intently on the dryad threat coming at them from the east that they will never think to look behind them. If we can neatly catch them from both flanks at once, I am hoping that they will crumble easily.”

Of course that was a gamble. Her war masters had said it was likely but not certain. And the one thing she had learned during the war was that things went wrong. Still, the reports from the dryads said they were making steady progress through the realm. That they were seeing many of the same things in the Regency that they were in Vardania. It was just that the false priests and their creatures had for some reason done better against the wizard army there. And the battles had mostly not been in the towns and cities. It seemed that the wizards there had been quicker to take to their heels. Or maybe there had simply been fewer of them to begin with. Whatever the truth was it didn't matter. What mattered was that the enemy was defeated and driven from the land.

“We will leave in the morning High Priestess.”

The man didn't even hesitate as he gave her his answer. He didn't have to think about it at all. He just agreed. And despite the fact that the wild men admitted to having no leaders, he could speak for them as if he was theirs.

“Thank you.” She nodded to him. “You honour me with your service.”

“And you bring us hope.”

He bowed to her as formally as if he were in the temple, turned and a heartbeat later was gone. Vanished, as if he had never been there. It always surprised her when he did that. How he could move so quickly and quietly, slipping instantly among the other people or trees that it almost seemed like magic. But really it was the same way the deer in the woods vanished when they knew they were being hunted. In many ways the wild men had become almost like animals. Learning their ability to hide and run. Learning how to hunt as well. It might be the wrath of Lyssa that beat in their hearts, but she suspected that many of them would have made good followers of Artemis.

Erislee watched him leave, hoping that she had made the right decision. The war masters would tell her it was the right one. They would say something about putting resources where they were needed and hitting the enemy where they weren't expecting it. But that was strategy and tactics, things she didn't understand. Things she didn't want to understand. But she did know when she was putting people in danger, and she had just done that to four thousand men.

When this war was over she decided, it would be time for her to begin her true work. Helping those who had been harmed by this false temple. Repairing the damage. And trying to atone for her many failings.

It might take her a lifetime. It might take many lifetimes. But when she was done the name of the Goddess would once more be spoken with love and reverence by the people.

Chapter Fifty Six

More bad news. As Terellion sat on his throne and listened while war master after war master kept giving him more bad news. More towns lost. More wizards dead. More soldiers lost.

Vardania was gone. It had crumbled in mere months. All the cities had fallen, and what was left were only a few isolated towns. Had it been a mistake ordering his men to attack the demon king's forces? It had allowed the High Priestess' armies an easier march to victory. But at the same time if he hadn't he might well be facing two enemies at once, the High Priestess and Xin. And Xin was the more dangerous threat. If enough of his thralls could make it through to the Kingdom of the Lion and build a new gate or even enough altars, he could quickly turn the rest of his thralls and their pets against him. Terellion's soldiers would be torn apart within their own city.

In any case according to all the reports the High Priestess' army was now massive, fifty thousand men at arms at least. They would have crushed everyone anyway. And Xin had needed to suffer. He needed to starve. And he needed to know that it was Terellion who was hurting him. The demon king needed to know that there was a price for betraying him.

Besides, there had been little choice. Not when Xin's forces had already been attacking his as they retreated. Less than half of Terellion's army had made it back to Lion's Crest. Less than half the wizards too. Xin had struck back the moment the gate had been shut and his food supply had run short, just as he'd always known he would. Now it was open warfare between the wizards and the demon king.

To add to his troubles the damned dryads were marching in numbers never before seen. Thirty thousand at least were coming from Inel Ison in the east and forty thousand more were marching south from Pariton. They were punching straight through both the Enteria Regency and Northland and the chances were that neither land would put up much resistance. Even in the dead of winter when no one should be out let alone marching, they were coming through all but unopposed. There were at best only a few months before both Northland and the Enteria Regency were crushed. Once that happened the Kingdom of the Lion would stand alone. Alone and surrounded.

For the present the High Priestess' forces were simply cleaning up the survivors in Vardania and gathering in strength. The dryads were finishing up the remaining towns and cities the demon king's forces held. The Rainbow Mountains had already fallen. Once all four realms were theirs they would come for him. The High Priestess' armies would march through the passes from the south and west. The dryads would ride from the north and east. And he would be trapped here in the centre.

The soldiers knew it. The people knew it. They might not get the reports from the war masters and spies that he did, but they heard the gossip. And they were frightened. There was a sense of panic in the city. Some of the people had tried to flee. Some of the soldiers too. No one wanted to be around when the three armies arrived at the walls of Lion's Crest. And he couldn't control them all.

His gift was immense. But just holding a dozen wizards to his absolute will had been hard enough.  He could do it, but always it had been a drain on his magic. Everyone else he had to control less directly. By redirecting their thoughts and changing their values. It was enough, but it wasn't permanent. Eventually the man's own innate nature would come through again. Which meant that he had to keep reinforcing his message, perhaps every six months or so.

He could still do that. He had done it with the wizards after all, having them return to Lion's Crest every six months for five long years. But he'd never had to do it with them
and
with the soldiers and the demon king's thralls. Controlling so many even that way was a strain.

But after that he had only two more arrows in his quiver to control the soldiers. The first was coin, and that was running low. It was also little incentive when he was asking people to stand and die for him.

The other was fear, and that was more successful. He had all his once demon bonded thralls out on the streets walking their beasts around, reminding everyone that they were there, and more importantly that the price for treason was death at their hands. The memories of his fury mating execution was still fresh in the minds of the soldiers. But he guessed that that would just mean that they would be more careful when they decided to run. The true fear that held them was that they were trapped. The kingdom was surrounded on all sides, and any soldiers fleeing Lion's Crest and the Kingdom of the Lion would be quickly caught. So they were stuck here with him, waiting to die.

He wanted to flee as well. He'd been thinking about it night and day in fact. But given that he would have to flee through kingdoms that were either at war with him or in enemy hands, that was going to be a problem. Ares himself would have trouble – not that the God of War would ever flee battle. The odds were against him making it through. Especially when his face was known. In fact the faces of all six remaining Circle wizards were known. Posters had been drawn up. His agents had returned with some of them. They'd obviously guessed what he might try to do.

Everything was falling apart. Literally everything. With the chimera out on the streets there were deposits all over the streets, the occasional blood stain from when they ran a little wild, and any amount of damage to buildings. The minotaurs seemed to have a love of sharpening their horns on stone walls while the harpies when they got loose were leaving their droppings all over the city. And it wasn't the minor white stuff that pigeons left.

Then as if that wasn't enough to deal with there was the seductress. She was everywhere these days, tracking him down almost like a dog. He knew why. The bitch was in heat, or the fury equivalent. She was ready to be mated and he was her sire. And she didn't come with her demon masters any more. In fact most of the time he was nowhere around when she simply arrived. The incompetent's  excuse was that she simply went wandering. And that she seemed to have a gift for escaping her pen. Naturally he'd had her master flogged for his failures. Several times.

The first time she had shown up it had frightened him. Furies were the one chimera that didn't wander the streets even with the thralls commanding them. Well, them and the manticores. But now he understood there was no risk to him. Not from her. She might be completely lethal, but not to him.

Even now as he sat on the throne she was lying on floor at his feet with a come hither look in her eyes. And he wanted to do just that. He wanted it so terribly that it was almost impossible to concentrate on what the war masters were saying. Especially when he knew he could have her there and then.

It was his own fault of course. He knew that. He had seduced her. He had broken her. And now she could know nothing more than that her place was at his side and in his bed. She was a simple creature – even more simple than most women. Show her that he was her king and then show her even a trace of kindness, and she was his. But now she couldn't be anything else. And she couldn't be anywhere else either. And that in turn was driving him crazy with desire and frustration.

He ached for her, morning, noon and night. He dreamed of her when he slept and when he was awake. He'd swallowed every potion he could think of to try and find just a brief moment of virility. He'd even prayed to the worthless gods. But nothing was working. Even with all the hunger in the world and her waiting for him he couldn't. He could play with her day and night, but he could never satisfy his desire – or hers.

His only hope was the living essence, and he had agents everywhere seeking it out. In every city in the five kingdoms and beyond, war or no war. In every land beyond them. They were scouring the world for him. Hunting down every wizard of life they could find. Every rumour. And he was offering an immense reward for it. A hundred bars of gold. Enough wealth for any wizard to live in luxury until the end of his days. He would have offered more if it would have helped. But thus far he had nothing. No essence. Nor any wizard capable of crafting it.

His nightmare was that he would die before he had a chance to know her. To put his seed in her. Even one time. And it wasn't even about the babies or the army any more. It was purely about her. He just had to have her.

How could the bitch have such power over him? When she was around he could barely think about anything other than her. And when she wasn't he wanted her back. There was something wrong with that even if he didn't quite know what. It was almost as though he wasn't completely in control.

Desire and frustration suddenly crystallized into anger when he saw the fury's master finally limp in to the throne room, as he too often did. He had been sent for ages ago. No doubt his excuse would be that his injuries from the previous floggings had slowed him. He would try to make this his fault. The miserable wretch had no end of excuses.

“Take her away! Back to the temple!”

Terellion snapped the order at her thrall master, annoyed that the man had only just shown up. Again he was late. Even though he knew that she posed no danger to him the man should be with her all the time. The man was due another flogging. This time a proper one. He had obviously been far too lenient with him until then. The man simply wasn't learning.

“And this time lock her in the cage with Varrious and guard the door!” Maybe if he was lucky she would at least do something useful and kill the pestilent little bastard. The first thrall was after all still bleeding from his latest round of torture and she surely had to have some blood lust in her.

Varrious needed to die. Though Terellion had promised him that he would live to suffer for as long as possible, he was beginning to regret that decision. The man still refused to tell him any more than he had on that first day. And there were only so many disappointments he could take. It was good to occasionally watch him bleed and to hear him scream, and the thumb screws the previous day had been especially enjoyable. Still, he wanted the entertainment to end with the man breaking and telling him Xin's plans. But he wouldn't. It was almost as though he truly didn't know.

Really, these thralls were becoming a pain. He controlled them completely save for Varrious, and yet still they managed to fail him every time. If he didn't need them to control the beasts he would have had them all killed long ago.

But truly they weren't the only ones that should have died. He realised that as he returned his attention to the reports from the battle fields. His war masters were a constant disappointment to him. He gave them armies and coin and they gave him defeat. Again and again and again. And then they somehow managed to blame him. If he only hadn't ordered his soldiers to attack the temples in Vardania the High Priestess would have been slowed. If he'd waited before shutting down the gate so the soldiers could be in position. Always it was excuses, and all of them were laid at his feet.

Still they forgot the successes. They didn't seem to understand. Yes, sooner or later he would end up in Lion's Crest under siege. That was aggravating. He had once been on the verge of becoming a god. He had been a ruler of five kingdoms. To become besieged in a single city would be humiliating. But against that he had confidence that Lion's Crest would hold. With its walls and so many wizards, soldiers and beasts how could it not? He might be besieged, but he was hoping that the city would stand a decade or two before it fell.

Did the war masters mention that? No! They just told him how terrible it was.

No more did they seem to understand that he would escape. That he had plans. That he had so much magic on his side, so many wizards, and so many he could control, that his chances were good. Yes this was an embarrassment. A humiliation brought upon him by a lying demon. But it was only a set back. He would survive. He would escape. He would find his living essence. And then once he was strong again, he would punish his enemies as no others had ever been punished before. But the war masters never seemed to understand that either.

Maybe he should have their tongues cut out. It would at least save him having to listen to their failures. Then again, maybe that was being too kind.

Suddenly it all became too much for him. He simply couldn't sit there and listen to any more of their self serving lies.

“Enough!” Terellion screamed it at the war masters, and for emphasis he even stood up so that he could truly look down on them. On their pathetic forms.

“No more! I won't hear any more of your lies! Your excuses! You are my war masters. You're supposed to be telling me how to win this war. How to kill the pestilent High Priestess. And instead you give me this?!”

“No more!” If he'd been yelling before it was nothing compared to the way he screamed that at them.