Kriell, still in the form of Caruun, stood over the inert bodies of the travelers as they lay bound on the stone floor of Yns Garraid. Those who still lived were stripped of their armor and most of their clothes. The monsters quickly found out they were unable to touch the god weapon after two of the beorhs attempted to remove the shield. The Shield of Skool remained attached to the saddle, laying at the feet of the Vanth who carried the seat into the gateway. Actita placed the saddle in before Kriell who held the Clovel Sword by the baudrik belt removed from Urith.
“Mighty Guardian, you have your humans and the Shield of Skool before you as I promised,” Ruggla stuffed more of the xylox weed into his pipe, smiling to his new master.
Kriell’s beak face cocked to one side at the words, his black eye on one side of the head watching the demigod carefully. “Yes, this is nearly correct. The immediate threat is in control before me.”
The underworld god chattered quickly with Reppir who nodded slowly. Actita overheard the conversation and immediately eyed the Clovel Sword in his master’s hands.
The Guardian turned back to Ruggla who smiling contentedly at his new green companion. Spanca looked at the bound humans, avoiding her partner’s gaze.
“My apologies, Master. It appears my new mate still has feelings for some of those at her feet. I believe you referred to them as your toys.” Ruggla took a deep puff, trying to ignore the increased chattering among the beorhs while he wondered what Reppir told them.
The guttural voice of Kriell changed as the creature began to transform into the form of Alrpan. “I can feel her reservations at your plans as well.”
Several blinks of the eye later, the image of the mistress of the underworld stood before them. Ruggla was stunned by the change, and he felt the atmosphere of the gateway change. The beorhs closed in around the group.
“Ruggla, you’re quite right about my thoughts concerning the humans,” a seductive voice came from the shapely woman form. Reppir slapped a few of the closest monsters, pointing and chattering to his creatures, sending them to work. The fanged brutes gathered up one bound human each. Most of the travelers were now fully conscious, each person desperately trying to lash out and resist. However, it was of little use. A human skin leather noose wrapped around their necks, bound to their ankles and wrists behind the back. Struggling caused the knot to close around their neck, choking them. The Vanth took the Clovel Sword from his master.
“You wish Skool with the prisoners?” Actita asked. The Guardian nodded absently, watching Urith being picked up. Alrpan immediately ordered the bound prisoners to be taken to the underworld.
“Make sure no harm comes to them. They are mine,” Kriell told the underworld demigod who quickly nodded.
“What will you do with these?” Ruggla watched as the monsters picked up their prisoners.
“They will be used to bring forth the Guardians. We will return to a better time.” Kriell’s seductive woman’s voice laughed an evil cackle, giving Spanca chills.
The green demigoddess watched as Fedelm was slowly being carried away, the woman’s blue eyes wide. At first, Spanca believed the woman was upset at her betrayal. Then she saw all of the monsters staring at her and Ruggla, their chattering increasing. She took Ruggla by the hand, pulling him back to the invisible barrier to the outside world.
“We go, my partner. The animals take us far,” the woman urged.
Confused, Ruggla turned to her. “I see no reason to leave.” Then he saw a mass of monsters come between them and the entrance. The demigods were cut off from the outside.
“We have an agreement!” the god of the miners turned back to Kriell, his voice booming.
The female monster turned back and smiled. “I promised to let you live and I will. You are really just a human toy with a few powers. Not worth much more than those I’m sacrificing. I did notice how you and your little nature goddess decided to pair up and betray these humans. Because you might become a threat if you gathered more of your half-human brethren, I decided to change the arrangements.”
Ruggla tried to protest, but Kriell held up a hand. “I cannot have any threats from lesser beings. However, Reppir gave me a suggestion which should provide us with a solution to our shared problem.” The evil creature with the human form gave the man an evil grin.
Alrpan turned away, pushing through the line of animated underworld beings. “You and Spanca will need to entertain the beorhs for a while. When they are through with you, Reppir will make sure you and Spanca are added to the cave walls like our other guest. There you can live out your days as a toy of my creatures and remain no threat.”
Ordering the bound prisoners to the tunnels, Kriell gave a quick chirp. Immediately the elongated faced hordes of monsters descended upon the demigods.
“You see, it’s really an entirely logical solution,” the Guardian couldn’t be heard in the screams and chatter coming from behind.
The humans briefly witnessed the savageness events unfold as they were carried away on the shoulders of their underworld guards. When the beorhs ran at the two demigods, Ruggla attempted to save himself by throwing Spanca in front of him while he tried to escape. He only made it several steps before the other creatures were on him. The sound of cloth ripping and his shrieks could be heard as the chatter of the monsters died down momentarily as each excited creature shoved and struggled into positions to mount and torture their victims. It was a mass of sinewy monsters committing torture and gang rape upon their victims. Ruggla’s howls of desperate rage and fear turned to whimpering pleas followed by screams as the man was lost under the swarm of monsters. A few paces away, a mass of bodies revealed only the bottoms of Spanca’s talon feet as the thrusting, grunting bodies covered the sound of the woman’s screams. Fedelm, remembering her own violations by the creatures, looked down, begging the spirits to help the poor female. Despite their betrayal, the blond girl could not believe Spanca deserved this.
Urith lost sight of the sickening displays when their capturers turned the corner of the darkening cave tunnel. Soon, echoes of more terrible screams followed them along with chilling beorh chatter. The bound prisoners tried to ignore the sounds. However, a burning rage continued to Urith as he locked eyes with the red-eyed Alrpan who joined the walk with them. He remembered the terrible underworld goddess he nearly destroyed at Du-Rinell. It seemed she was now back against him, even more powerful.
“Don’t worry about them, human. They are demigods, nearly immortal. You should really thank me. For a while, my beorhs will have your two betrayers for their entertainment instead of your precious humans.” The evil creature smiled as the leader of the beorhs came up. The two monsters spoke their chatter language briefly. Kriell saw the puzzlement on the human’s face at the exchange.
“Reppir believes the demigods will soon wish they weren’t nearly immortal. I must agree with him.” I’m not sure what I’ll do with the other demigods. They have little us in my new world, so we’ll probably let the kronog hunt down those who remain on Kamin.”
Urith, recognizing the name of Reppir, suddenly cursed, calling the beorh leader the docke of Kriell. The enraged monster forced the guard to stop, then reached out with its claws and slowly ripped away a long piece of skin from Urith’s upper arm. The warrior struggled, trying to twist and turn before finally letting out a howl of pain at the open, bleeding wound.
Kriell pulled Reppir way, sternly reminding the creature not to injure the Clovel Destroyer further. The beorh chattered and pointed to Soma. The Alrpan’s image turned to the human. “You wretched creatures forget you are quite vulnerable to pain. Knowing that I still need you Esterblud warrior, Reppir suggested I give him that woman you call Soma. It’s unusual, but he remembers you and this woman he calls Chickle. He says you did him a great injustice in the past.”
The beorhs took a couple of steps, grabbing the woman by her auburn hair and yanking her head back forcefully. Soma cried out, then went silent, her eyes showing her hate of Reppir.
Kriell cocked his head. “It’s funny; nearly all of the beorhs have no memories. You must have made an impression.” The savage god gave a thin smile. “Be happy, you’re a human and will die when he’s through. Then, your soul can serve my needs.”
Urith couldn’t see the woman from his position, but he cursed at Reppir again. He was responsible for Soma leaving her slavery. It was the Esterblud who gave the young woman the chance to change her life.
As the line of monsters continued carrying their prisoners deeper into the underworld, the group went quiet, leaving only the sound of dripping water and stomping of the beorhs feet to be heard.
“So what’s your goal, you cursed one?” Narslac’s voice suddenly echoed from the shadows ahead of Urith. “You strive to fill Kamin with monsters? Only a fool would destroy humanity to fill the lands with mindless creatures like these.”
Alrpan’s soulless eyes brightened. “Yes, the Skald who got away from my creatures. When your blood is drained from the body, I’ll make sure your spirit is put into a very silent monster.”
“Bold talk from a god who cannot see the light in front of him,” Narslac replied.
Kriell’s smile wavered slightly, but the figure of Alrpan walked faster to catch the one-armed man slung over a beorh. “Enlighten me you miserable one. Or should I enter your feeble mind?”
“The answer is quite simple enough. You need balance. The Guardians required it just as the people on Kamin. Heptarc realized this when he cast you out. Once all of the humanity is gone, what of your world then? How long while you immortals last without us?” Narslac told him confidently. The rest of the bound humans listened as they wondered what the Skald was driving at.
“Just like before. When the Guardians return, your species will be used as needed, of course.” Kriell stated, growling now. “You’re wasting my time.”
“Really? Have you forgotten the Sky Realm is gone? Look outside; the world will soon be frozen over. Did you get Duwdamon’s powers over the sky? Of course not, Urith destroyed him. And the power over the lands, it’s gone as well.” Narslac began laughing. “Some god you are.” Kriell chattered instructions for the group to stop their journey into the caves.
“With the food gone from a frozen world, soon the only thing left will be the spirits. Not a balance and no one left to serve you,” the Skald quickly continued as he saw Kriell’s female face growing angry. “Your Guardian friends will surely want to come back for that. You were so focused on revenge; you’re bringing Kamin down upon you. You’ll be left with a ball of snow and mindless creatures to rule over.”
Narslac took several smacks from one of the monsters carrying Fedelm, its claws leaving four deep wounds on the man’s face. Wounded and stunned, the Skald lifted his head to spit at the creature. But he remained quiet as the group of fiends continued their journey deeper into the dark tunnels.
The followers of Urith arrived outside the altar room where Kriell attempted many human sacrifices to open the Great Void. Rotting bodies still filled either side of the large tunnel, overwhelming the people from the stench. The beorhs threw their prisoners to the tunnel floor at Kriell’s command. A soft green glow from the walls illuminated the dead and the living.
As punishment for Narslac’s talk, a beorh ran his claws down the bound man’s back. Narslac cried out from the pain, causing two Clovels to come into the light at the entrance to the room. Their white fur showed the dark stains of blood from their rampages into the lands of Kamin. The hairy beasts sniffed the air with their long snouts, coal black eyes staring at their prey. Their canine teeth exposed, hoping for a chance to attack and devour those living creatures on the rock floor.
“A god who can’t take the truth,” Joclac suddenly spoke up, twisting his body to face the woman’s standing over him. “I’ve seen your attempts at learning the future, Kriell. You ingested Greach to gain foresight. I’ll bet koinons your attempts failed. Have you noticed you’re not in the future?”
The underworld god, unused to such dissension, reacted violently. Alrpan’s form kicked the man in his stomach. Then, the god turned away. The words were getting to the Guardian. Suddenly, it stopped, and the legs of Alrpan gave way to black tentacles which quickly wrapped around Joclac.
“You’re correct, seer. It’s just you who forgot something. I know who you are. We’ll see how much I can learn from you.”
Slowly, the suckers drug the struggling man to transformed lower half of Alrpan’s form. The black globular body started moving across Joclac, the tentacles helping to pull the prophet through the slimy skin and inside the Guardian. Soma screamed, struggling to reach her husband. However, the woman’s leather binds dug into her, and she could only watch helplessly as Joclac twisted and turned. Urith made a last desperate attempt to help his friend, rolling over closer where he was savagely kicked by Reppir. The leader of the beorhs dragged Soma next to the black entity, lifting her by her hair to witness the event. With the seer fully inside the spirit stealer, the horrified people watched as the victim finally quite moving while his skin disappeared. A red skeleton of her husband looked out with sightless eyes as Soma’s pitiful wails filled the ears of the remaining humans. Fedelm stared at the black body, realizing she saw the spirit faces of Alrpan and Caruun among the others inside the horrible creature. Hope fell away and she began crying as well.
~~~
Many leagues to the north of Yns Garraid, a quiet and somber group of people stood in the freezing cold as the heavy snow flakes covered their woolen hoods. It was the morning after the monster’s attack and the clouds hung low over the land. Outside the citadel, near the harbor, the crowd watched the flames rising from a makeshift funeral pyre where the body of Pehnuwick and those of the Ynyover guards lay. The small procession of people now included some of those needed to restore Kamin. Imenal, sent by the king of Eernicia, arrived by ship in with the early morning tide. He and Flacanus stood next to Oslaf, the young warrior paying no attention to the men. As a new leader of his tribe and half ruler of Esterblud, he felt lost, his brain in turmoil. He barely listened when Henther whispered in his ear at the arrival of Imenal.
Atheern, the Gallaeci heathmead trader, watched from the other side of the rising flames. The bearded man slowly walked next to Ircia, whispered reminding the leader of the Citadel about the ship from Cahmais which arrived after Imenal’s vessel. Atheern glanced at the head of Aberffraw tribe, Berta, who waited nearby with some of his men. Informally becoming the intermediary between the Aberffraw and the Gallaeci tribes, the heathmead trader asked why the body of Lyncus was not on the funeral pyre.
“Lyncus was the reason for the attack on the fortress, and he died begging for mercy,” Ircia refused to look at Berta as he nearly growled at Atheern. “He can have the body to do what he wants with it. It rests at the entrance with the bodies of the monsters. I lost enough men looking after that calward.”
The large merchant slowly backed away, quickly realizing it would take more than his stocks of heathmead and fine wine to calm the resentments among the gathering leaders. He waved for Berta and his Aberffraw men to follow him, leading them up the hill to the fortress.
Later that day, the leaders slowly gathered in the Great Hall of the Citadel. The large rectangular table in the middle of the room had long benches on either side and the people entering took their seats close to allies and friends. Ircia directed the few men he had left to strategic positions at the corners of the hall, leaving only a couple of his most trusted men to patrol the towers after closing the massive gates to the fort. The leader of the guards had the foresight to bring in a few villagers to act as cooks and servants.
While preparations were being arranged for the people gathering, Oslaf stood in the snow at the top of a battlement. He was looking out at the dark clouds which covered the range of high mountains regularly seen from the vantage point. Henther stood quietly next to him, but her impatience grew from his silence and her cold feet. The man hadn’t spoken since retreating to the isolated spot.
“What are you thinking?” Her voice surprised a nearby vensar who quickly flew away. After waiting for a while, the woman finally slapped his hood, knocking wet snow into his face.
“Curses, can’t a person be left alone around here?” he wiped his face, suddenly realizing his hands hurt from the chill.
“Fine, when you grow up, come see me.” Henther started to stomp away.
“Wait!” he turned to her. “That’s not what I meant.” He watched her come to a stop, still refusing to look at him.
“I’m not sure what I should be doing,” he sighed. “It’s easier when you know the enemy coming after you and you have a weapon in your hand. Curse the gods, I wish I was with Urith.”
The blond woman turned back to him. “I don’t think that’s the problem. I think for the first time, you’re afraid.” Her words hurt him even though he knew she wasn’t trying to belittle him. Henther walked toward him, her eyes glistened. “I’m going to tell you the truth. Can you handle it?”
Oslaf gave her a nod, his stomach knotting up.
“You are more like Urith than you think. For some strange reason, neither of you really fear death or the gods like the rest of us. Maybe it’s your pride or training, or both. I don’t know. But I understand you better than you think.” She stopped, looking at his expression. “Do you agree with me?”
“Maybe,” he replied slowly. He recognized some of the traits of his uncle. They had to have rubbed off after so much time together.
“There are a few things I know well, and one of them is to understand what is inside a person,” Henther continued. “You and Urith are afraid of only one thing. It’s something which changes your conceptions of the world. Neither of you can handle chaos because you seek order.” She held out her hand which quickly covered with the falling snowflakes.
“It is not the chaos of fighting which I’m talking about. It’s the turmoil of a different Kamin. You see it coming before you. The realms of Kamin are falling apart. It is something you cannot control this with your weapons or fighting skill. Oslaf, you need allies, and that means you must step forward to meet with others you don’t know or even like. I believe you fear the work you know is needed, so the fighter inside wants to fall back to something familiar. But for us to survive, you need be like your father.”
Oslaf looked at the beautiful woman who reached down inside of him and pulled out his secret for him to understand. He decided, he would never allow her to leave his side. The young fighter stepped forward and pulled her close to him, pulling back his hood again. Ignoring the cold drips of water that ran down the back of his next, he gave her a long kiss.
“Ok, I’ll grow up.” He told her when he pulled back. “Now, since you’re my advisor, what’s next?”
Henther smiled, giving him a kiss back, and then pulled his hood back over his head, “Remember you are the son of Pehnuwick and act as he would. Once you have the plan and gain the backing of your allies, then act like Urith and fight to the bitter end.”
Oslaf and Henther were the last to enter the Great Hall within the Citadel of Br-Ynys. The nobles and emissaries representing most of the kingdoms around the Maflow Sea found their way to the table, and the noise was already deafening. Oslaf immediately went to Imenal, steering the badly limping man to a corner of the room for a quick conversation. Maimed by the gods, the satgert was an ally that Oslaf wanted to help guide them through the future discussions.
“Have you heard anything of my uncle?” The Esterblud asked.
Imenal gave him a nod. “Yes, my friend. He and the others must be very near Yns Garraid. I have received the news they went through the village of Hariwill, leaving word they were going to destroy the gateway. The priestess was shocked and sent word out to all the temples. She’s also saying that the twisted lellowtere trees must be destroyed throughout the world.”
“I can understand that. Those trees are where Mivraa used to move between the realms. What are your thoughts?” Oslaf glanced around to make sure they weren’t overheard.
The satgert’s face fell. “We will know soon enough. There is snow falling in the height of our hottest season, storms are destroying ships. If nothing changes soon, we will perish without any intervention by Kriell and his underworld creatures.
“Then, I believe we must start now to find ways to survive. I think we do that tonight.” Oslaf told him.
Imenal remained cautious. “Some of those we need have not come. Some tribes may not realize Satres is gone yet. The turmoil has spread to other cities and villages. We cannot be sure who is in control. I just received word that Vulthnal is in a state of civil war, but their king sits inside of the temple. If what I heard is correct, King Barcal is praying to a god who no longer exists.”
Oslaf nodded in agreement, remembering the young king during his time in Vulthnal. “Barcal relies on satgert who is corrupt. Both will find the land pulled from under them if they don’t realize the trouble soon enough. What about King Merkhan? Your king was friendly with Penhda and our people for many seasons.”
“I spoke with the king before I left for this place. He will follow my guidance.” Imenal decided to give Oslaf something which weighed upon him since before he left the temples in Eernicia.
“But I must warn you about something I’ve seen. Dughorm came to me in a vision. He is warning that if Urith fails, Kamin will be destroyed.”
Visibly worried, Oslaf put his hand on the man’s shoulder. “Has he told you that he would fail?”
“No, but it is a warning, nevertheless. I believe we must find a way to help stop this Kriell, even if it means destroying any temple which might give him power.” The Eernician leader appeared to carry the weight of the world for the moment with his thought. Oslaf realized what the man was saying. To destroy all references to the gods might be necessary. The young warrior could picture it in his mind. Wiping out all temples and structures to the gods, old and new, would be heresy. It would send many of the lands into further chaos and unrest.
“I hope we don’t have to do this,” Oslaf told the troubled man. “But, we must proceed like my uncle will fail. We must find allies that think like we do. We must gather any demigod to join with us, using their powers to stop what may come. However, I suggest we leave talk of such destruction until we have no choice. If it comes to that, we must have a steel spine to complete such work. Chaos or not, many will oppose such an idea.”
The Esterblud warrior stopped, realizing he would be putting himself in such a role. It was something he learned from Urith.
He gave the satgert a thin smile. “Perhaps the Fates can still help us to overcome Kriell without such thoughts. Even better, we might get word of Urith’s return. What do you think?”
Imenal gave the young warrior a contemplating look. “It is a difficult idea for you to believe Urith should fail. Because of the vision, I think we must take the path you are choosing. I will support your idea of a steel spine if necessary, which means Eernicia will do so. Merkhan is old, and his heirs are dead.”
The lame man turned his friend back to the banquet table where servants sit down food and drinks. “Now let’s get some of the more tenacious people I see at this table to agree as well.”
~~~
When Kriell finished with Joclac, the god was fully transformed into its black globular form. It used its tentacles to slowly move to the entrance of the altar room while the monsters waited for their instructions. Urith watched as the god of the underworld passed through the small entryway with Actita close behind, carrying the saddle with the Shield of Skool. Reppir dropped Soma, following his master into the room. The weeping woman quickly curled into a fetal position, uncaring of her impending fate.
Urith noticed something move by the cave wall. Camouflaged by the dark shadows, he finally made out the outlines of a green skeletal creature whose spindly arms and legs were embedded into the rock. When the head lifted, he recognized Unis. The former goddess of the Sky Realm still retained the beautiful face which adorned many of the temples of Kamin. However, the eyes of the goddess instantly showed her insanity. The creature cackled one moment then began to sing an incoherent song before stopping to scream when a beorh came near her. The creature paid the goddess no attention and Unis went quiet, her head dropping. Whatever the monsters of the underworld did to the goddess, it was evident she was beyond any help.
Urith hated the goddess for her mind control and attempting to have the great warrior kill Fedelm. However, his vengeance fell away as he watched the creature. Instead, his rage began to rise. While knew he was powerless, the warrior decided he would die with a fury built into his soul. Someway, somehow, he pleaded to whatever spirits remained to give him a chance, let him punish a spiritless fiend who believed it was a god. Urith remembered his past heartaches, knowing nearly each of them was caused by some entity whose only goal was to crush a person’s soul, to make them toys for the gods. These were monsters, not gods. For humans to bow and pray to such things was the highest sacrilege in his mind. Such creatures must be destroyed, crushed by the very things they wanted to rule over. Then, the man heard a whisper in his ear. It was nearly unheard, but he felt it like a soft kiss from his wife.
“Be ready and have no mercy.”
Suddenly the screeching laugh of Unis started again. “Spirits around me, betray someone else now. Yes, I see you.” The insane woman began to hum an Esterblud war chant.
Fedelm was looking through the entrance into the altar room. From her angle, she noticed the Vanth suddenly stiffen. Actita began staring at the Shield of Skool attached to the saddle while sliding its long fingers along the baudrik strap holding the Clovel Sword on its shoulder. The creature glanced at Reppir who prepared the altar for the next sacrifice, absently nodding.
Next to the black table, Kriell transformed into a new human-like figure. Combining all of the poor spirits inside of the Guardian, the underworld god appeared now as an amalgamation of beast and human. The head of Uugor was perched on the tall female upper body of Alrpan and held up by muscular bird-like legs of Caruun. The long blond hair hermaphrodite creature walked into the tunnel, grabbing Urith by his leg and dragging the naked prisoner across rock floor. The Guardian chattered his orders to three of the beorhs who quickly followed their master by pulling the remaining humans into the room.
Inside, the prisoners saw the large mural on the wall, the tentacle Guardian image overlooking the black stone. Forced to their feet after a beorh cut the leather noose from around their necks, Narslac and Soma watched while Urith was forced on the altar by a Clovel while Kriell went to stand in front of the mural.
Struggling like a hooked worm, the Esterblud moved around the cold stone slab until Reppir slammed his hand into the man’s abdomen several times. Gasping for air, the man could only get out a curse. Fedelm pulled to her feet by a beorh, tried to intervene. However, Kriell slapped her down, and then the monster wrenched her back to a standing position using her hair. Fedelm’s yell was cut off as the underworld fiend grabbed her by the throat.
“You will watch the death of this weak man you follow.” The Guardian forced her over next to the Vanth who held her. Kriell went back to the slab where Reppir gave his master the sacrificial cup.
“Once this human hero is sacrificed, my friends from the Great Void will return. No doubt, they will have some unusual ideas for what they will do with the rest of you.” He turned to his victim on the slab.
“For this sacrifice, I will use your famous sword.” Kriell’s now handsome face smiled evilly when he saw Urith’s surprise. “Oh, yes, your exploits are known from the memories of Alrpan and Caruun. You’ve always fought those who rule you. Now, Actita will give me this Clovel Sword, and I will use it to remove the Clovel Destroyer’s head. Your skull I will mount as a trophy upon my throne.”
“May my vengeance come at you from a thousand directions,” Urith spit out, suddenly struggling against the leather noose digging into his neck as the Clovel pushed down on the man’s chest. Awkwardly pinned down on his back while his ankles remained tied to his wrists, his face turned blue.
Shaking his head, Kriell laughed. “I’ll give you credit for stubbornness. Well, I’ll have to cut your head off slowly so I can enjoy your death.”
“Actita, bring me the sword,” the god ordered.
The Vanth hesitated, listening to another voice at the moment. The blue orb of a spirit hovered near the creature when Actita entered the room dragging the saddle. At first, the underworld creature could not believe a spirit could remain unseen. Slowly, the creature started listening to the calm, soothing whisper which kept reminding the demigod of what happened to the other half-humans earlier. Unconsciously, the demigod slowly wrapped his hand with the leather made of human skin. It would protect him from the human sword.
“The Clovel Sword will protect you,” Dughorm’s voice grew more forceful. “Do you want the power of Skool to defend yourself? Sword in one hand, shield in the other, it’s your only defense.”
“Actita!” Kriell’s voice rose above the soothing voice in the creature’s head. “Bring me that Clovel Sword now!”
The Vanth cocked its bird-like face, one eye staring at the Guardian. The demigod now understood something Caruun and Alrpan missed. To be powerful, a god must control the weapons along with their human victims. Slowly, the Vanth pulled the Clovel Sword from the scabbard.
“No!” Fedelm cried out as the Vanth stepped closer to his master with the engraved blade gleaming in the green glow of the room.
Soma began sobbing again as Reppir placed the bowl under the hole where the blood of Urith would drip. The beorh leader went to the crying human, roughly lifting her head to witness the final moments. The evil soul within the monster was impatiently waiting to inflict all the torturous desires it could think of upon the former slave who outsmarted him in life.
So focused upon vengeance against the auburn hair woman, the leader didn’t notice the beorhs behind Narslac edge past the prisoner to witness the sacrifice. The man slowly twisted and pulled on his cutoff arm. The leather painfully moved down past his elbow, quickly falling away and loosening its grip around the wrist of his good arm.
The Vanth held out the Clovel Sword to Kriell, neither creature noticed the bloodstone amulet around Urith’s neck suddenly change color. Growing a brilliant white, the heat started to sear through the human leather. Immediately, the pommel of the Clovel Sword turned bright white under the leather bound hand of the Vanth. However, Attica continued to listen to the instructions coming from the whispering.
“You do to me like others,” the creature’s anger grew as it faced Kriell. Lunging forward, Actita embedded the sword into Kriell’s middle. Howling in pain and rage, the underworld god backed away.
Reppir jumped at the Vanth, landing hard on the demigod. They struggled over the Clovel Sword, pushing hard against the black slab. Kriell backed away to the wall, his borrowed face showing the shock of the wound from the mighty sword. The god’s body began transforming back to its black blob form.
The human sacrifice lying on the table felt his skin burning, smelling the charred flesh of the leather as the necklace burned him. He yelled out in pain. Beside him, distracted by the beorh and the demigod struggling for the sword, the Clovel released its grip on Urith to watch the fight. Suddenly, the noose broke free from around Urith’s neck, and he felt his legs suddenly give. The man rolled over away from the Clovel, falling to the floor next to Reppir. The Vanth seized the opportunity to push the beorh over the Esterblud, tripping the monster back into Kriell.
Narslac, finally free of his bonds, slammed into the beorh next to him, forcing the creature toward at the Vanth. Instantly reacting, Actita swung the Clovel Sword into the monster, killing it as Narslac fell to the floor. Using his free hand to tug at the knot holding Urith’s wrists, the Skald worked to release the man.
During turmoil around the altar, Soma, still bound by her hands, jump over the back of Reppir who was down on the floor. Trying to keep the beorh leader penned on the floor while Fedelm fell on top of the small pile to help the woman.
Freed of his fight, Actita quickly went to the Shield of Skool. Convinced of his power over the god weapon he carried the Clovel Sword in his hand, the Vanth reached down. When the demigod touched the Skool, he was motionless for a moment. Suddenly, the creature trembled and jerked before the electricity blasted Actita upward into the rock ceiling. The demigod slammed back into the floor, the Clovel Sword sliding noisily across the rough rock until it nearly brushed Narslac’s leg. Actita trembled for a moment on the floor nearby the Skald, then quit moving.
The one-armed man finally untied the knot still holding Urith’s wrists when the white-hair monster attacked. Bounding over the black slab on the orders of Kriell, the Clovel came down on top of the two men. The force of the beast landing allowed the Esterblud warrior to break loose and he quickly rolled away. Narslac was not as fortunate, the creature’s claws dug into the man’s upper body. Lifting the Skald up, the monster opened its massive jaws to rip into Narslac while the man cried out. Suddenly, the Clovel staggered, appearing off-balance. Then, black blood shot out of the monster’s mouth, splattering his intended victim. Then, the nearly impervious monster pitched forward, dying as it hit the ground. Behind the creature, the Clovel Destroyer stood with bloody sword in his hand.
Reppir finally flung off Soma, his claws ripping into the woman’s back as she tumbled away. The leader of the beorhs chattering whails brought in two beorhs. The Esterblud whipped around with his sword, slicing the first monster across the chest. Instantly, Reppir attacked while Urith was trying to fend off the other creatures.
Fedelm shouted a warning and tripped Reppir with her bound feet. The beorh leader slipped down on the blood covered floor, giving Urith a chance to finish off the other monster, embedding his weapon through its body. The blond woman slid closer to help with Soma when she felt the tentacles of Kriell. She looked down, watching as the fiend began to pull the severely injured Soma inside the black body. Fedelm shrieked with fear as the creature from the Great Void used its tentacles to envelop the hakra’s legs.
The Esterblud fighter had no time to defend himself, turning just when Reppir struck. Urith barely avoided the agile beorh’s steel-like claws coming at his abdomen. Reppir’s momentum continued forward, causing Urith to stumble over a dead beorh. Both human and monster grappled, trying to gain the upper hand on the bloody floor. The monster was stronger, but Urith used the slickness of the gore around him to keep the claws and teeth from impaling him, although he was sliced by some of the creature’s claws. However, the man was unable to bring his sword against the creature. Finally, Reppir penned down the human, his claws digging deep into the warrior’s massive arms.
The monster chattered a series of unintelligible clicks triumphantly.
Desperately looked around while the agony forced him to cry out, Urith saw his only chance. The man turned back to the beorh leader and spit in the creature’s face. Enraged, the monster opened its elongated jaws, lifting its head to bite. When Urith felt the slight elevation of the monster off of him, he instantly rolled and lifted his body to one side. Reppir fell away, his head glancing off the Shield of Skool. When Urith slipped away, the electric shock ran through the monster momentarily, stunning Reppir. The underworld leader climbed to his feet as Urith found the Clovel Sword.
Sword in hand, Urith scrambled to his feet and gave no quarter. His first strike went into the monster’s shoulder. A loud, wretched howl came from the beorh leader. However, the sound quickly stopped when the human warrior swung back around, sending the monster’s head tumbling out of the room and into the tunnel.
While the Esterblud was in a fight for his life, Fedelm fought and kicked against the god trying to ingest her. While doing so, she shouted at the injured Narslac for help. Slowly the man turned over, his body and face covered in his blood. The one-armed man began to crawl at Kriell. The Guardian developed the face of Caruun upon his black body. The creature’s beady eyes watched approvingly at the bloody fight between Urith and the beorh.
“Come to me human, so I may consume you was well.” The thick guttural voice mocked Narslac as the man got to his knees. “You have nothing to injure me.”
The voice caused Fedelm to stop fighting. Her mind reeled, trying to remember despite the fear she felt. The voice of her father came to her like a quiet passing breeze. She felt the warmth on her breast.
The Helios stone from Imenal!
Still haning around her neck, the hakra thanked her father as she remembered the words.
“Teinidh cadhla,” the woman shouted as her legs grew numb, starting to be consumed.
Instantly the amulet became bright. Kriell’s beaked mouth opened, letting loose a long shriek which caused the humans to cover their ears. Fedelm kicked and squirmed away from the retreating Kriell. Narslac crawled across the floor, quickly unbinding the blond woman before going to Soma. Fedelm tried to stand but her legs wouldn’t cooperate, and she was forced to hang on to the black slab. She stared in horror as Kriell transformed into the hermaphrodite monster again. The Guardian god came toward her from around the slab. Narslac did not see what was happening as he rolled Soma over, trying to untie her wrists.
“Your amulet surprised me before, but it will not stop me now.” The god slowly stepped around the sacrificial slab, smiling after glancing at Reppir who was on top of Urith. The Guardian turned its back on the fight, intent on forcing Fedelm back into the corner with the other humans.
“I will kill you slowly,” Kriell told her, and the woman forced her unwilling legs to stand. Then, she saw the end of the beorh behind Kriell, and she smiled as Urith turned around.
“I think you better worry about yourself,” the woman told the god.
Realizing his danger, the underworld deity suddenly looked around while a noise came from behind it. The Clovel Sword found its mark, impaling the Guarding in the chest. Kriell fell back, and Fedelm moved aside, letting the monster fall to the floor. Urith was already lifting the Shield of Skool, inserting his maimed arm.
“Finish that thing,” the woman ordered him.
“I intend to.” The Esterblud walked past her.
Kriell’s black body returned, sliding quickly along the floor like an ancient sea monster. Its tentacles found the back wall where the mural of the Guardians watched over the room. The god of the underworld used the suckers of its limbs to climb the wall while the face of Alrpan appeared in the globular body, next to the still embedded sword.
“Foolish mortal, you made a poor decision. You forgot you cannot destroy me with your pitiful sword. The Skool without the sword is just a toy to me. I’m already gaining strength from the power within this weapon, enough to bring you to your knees.” The voice of the hated goddess declared.
The scarred face warrior continued closing the distance to the godlike monster. He felt the stone of the amulet warming on his skin with each step, and he told Narslac to get Soma away. Seeing the look on Urith’s face, the Skald scrambled to his feet, partially carrying and dragging the injured lady away.
Kriell suddenly tried using Alrpan’s power of illusion, causing Urith’s body to become wrapped in a searing fire. Steeling himself, the man kept moving.
“I’ve seen it before,” he shouted as the pain intensified. Just a few paces away, Urith suddenly lunged forward, running full speed at the god. Shield of Skool in front, the Esterblud warrior, slammed the weapon and himself into the monster on the wall.
Fedelm watched as the giant fighter held the Skool against the black form of the Guardian, electricity surging out of the weapon. The underworld god appeared to be gathering strength from the charge, causing the woman to suddenly doubt they could defeat Kriell. The Guardian’s body grew larger, and the spirit’s faces inside the fiend could be seen through the slimy skin. Urith lifted his free hand, grabbing the Clovel Sword.
“Da Umca Mivwar, you pitshog,” the man growled.
The blast from the shield in the small room expanded into a massive shock wave that sent Urith flying across the top of the black slab. He landed next to the dead body of Reppir, near the entrance to the room. Fedelm was knocked over by the explosion, falling by the dead Vanth.
As the woman gathered herself, Fedelm glanced at the rock wall which now had an open hole where Kriell once stood. Evaporated by the blast, only black pieces of the creature remained, hanging on the edges of the dark hole in the wall. Nearly incoherent, Fedelm struggled over to the Esterblud, pulling the giant warrior over on his back. Then, she saw the blood. Coming from his nose and ears, the red rivulets crisscrossed the man’s scarred face and closed eyes as his head lolled to one side.
She shook her head.
“You can’t be dead!” her mind screamed.
Suddenly, Urith’s eye flickered open. At first, he just gawked, breathing deeply and believing himself dead. Almost as soon as the warrior realized he wasn’t a spirit, the stone floor shuddered beneath him.
A rolling sound like distant thunder echoed deep below the altar room, growing stronger with coming wave. Somewhere inside Urith’s brain, he thought he should get away, but his body would not respond.
“On your feet!” Fedelm yelled into his ear grabbing his hand which still held the Clovel Sword. She pulled at him, her small size unable to move his heavy frame much. “Curse the gods, get on your feet you calward!” the woman leaned over and slapped his face as she glanced at Narslac carrying Soma ahead of them into the tunnel.
The slap and curse finally started to pull the man from his daze. As she held onto his forearm, he painfully struggled to his feet, staggering around like a drunken man. Fedelm barely recognized his face, bruised and battered from the beatings and the blast. Avoiding the shield still hanging on his injured arm, she pulled herself under his right shoulder. Together, the pair stumbled out of the altar room as the grinding and shaking grew worse. When they reached the entrance to the glowing green tunnel, which took them back to the surface, the ceiling above them shattered, sending down rock and dust. Ahead of them, a massive boulder fell, cutting them off from their friends.
Narslac, still half carrying Soma, heard the grinding rumble coming from behind him and he turned just in time to see the cave in. The ground shook again, and the Skald turned back toward the surface, half pulling the woman along as he desperately tried to retrace their path to the gateway. The man kept the distraught and injured woman struggling forward, yelling and begging her to keep moving. As the pair went through the dust filled tunnel, they passed by beorhs and other monsters. The underworld creature’s primitive instincts to survive sent the monsters into a panic. They ran past the humans, once knocking the pair to the ground, as the beast desperately tried to find places of shelter from the moving and falling rocks around them.
Finally making it to the entrance to Yns Garraid, the injured humans slowed when they saw many of the panicked beorhs near the invisible gateway. However, the monsters appeared more concerned with their own safety as large rocks fell from the top of the opening, sending them into nearby crevices to be crushed. Other creatures ran into the snow outside. Narslac stumbled upon the small mound of clothes and weapons, stripped from them earlier. He led the woman over where they quickly threw blankets over shoulders. Narslac slung a shield through his half arm and took a sword. He carefully turned to Soma, trying to keep from reopening his wounds. Her blank stare remained after another round of ground tremors stopped.
“Listen to me. Urith told me you are strong. We can stay here and die or try to survive outside.” He tenderly turned her head to show her the direction. “Now you and I are going to be tough and survive. We are going that way, and I’m going to take out whatever stands in our way. You think of your children and getting back to them. I need you to do that.” He smiled as she slowly nodded.
“Good girl,” he said and immediately stood her up. “Let’s go.”
The pair followed along the wall as another round of quakes struck, this time even stronger. Trying to avoid the monsters while dodging the falling rocks, they came upon Ruggla. Only the demigod’s exposed legs, along with the legs of two beorhs remained visible after a large boulder fell on them. Narslac led Soma around the rock mound, stepping on the clay pipe of their betrayer. Near the entrance to the snow, a terrible sound came from the tunnels as the ground above and below tried to press together. Instantly, the pair ran into the invisible barrier area. Several beorhs noticed them and immediately attacked.
Narslac turned to face the first monster, dispatching the beast with a sword thrust to the belly. As the other monster jumped at him, the Skald took it down with a swing of his wood and iron shield. Narslac heard the sound of a sword behind him and turned just in time to see Soma swing again into a third monster. Surprised at seeing the woman holding the heavy weapon, Narslac could only watch as the beorh fell to the cave floor. The woman continued to strike at the dying monster, black blood splattering her with each stroke. It took all of the man’s strength to pull her away from the dead creature as the last beorh near the entrance attacked him.
While Narslac fought the monster, Soma entered the deep snow with bare feet and just a woolen blanket covering her body. She was following another beorh ahead of her. Oblivious to her cold feet and aching injuries, the woman’s sole focus was the monster. Grimly smiling at the beorh’s struggle in the deep snow, she took a straight line, moving to cut off the creature. The monster was oblivious to the woman behind it. Instead, the beast’s eyes focused on the prey it followed.
After killing the monster that attacked him, Narslac followed Soma. He was surprised at the woman’s sudden burst of energy, and he struggled to catch her. His injuries and loss of blood drained him as the adrenalin of their escape began to wear off. His legs and feet quickly carried the bitter cold up to him. As he tried to maintain the pace, he wished they had taken the time to put on boots and trousers.
Narslac wanted to call out, but he didn’t dare. The monster might double back to kill Soma. Her husband was dead. The beorhs were the only target left for Soma. Then, he recognized a set of bloody footprints in the snow. They were left by Spanca who was dragging something.
The demigoddess was near the erba, covering the large package partially wrapped in a green tunic she hoisted on the saddle. Nearly exhausted from her wounds and the effort, she sensed the beorh coming after her. Unarmed and covered only in a blanket she just pulled from the hairy beast, the woman knew she would not last long against the monster. She tried to left herself on the erba, but the beorh grabbed her first. The erba sought to move away, but its reins held tight to the rock.
Spanca fell into a drift was the huffing, and drooling monster stood above her. The woman rose, then fell back into the snow, resigned to her fate. The woman begged the beast to remove her head when it finished.
Then Spanca heard soft footsteps coming from the snow behind the monster. So intent on the demigoddess it hunted, the fiend failed to realize something hunted it. Starting to turn, the beorh felt a sword blade go through its neck, sending the elongated head at the feet of the prostrate Spanca. The body of the monster fell away, and Soma stepped closer. She looked down at a green woman, covered in her own blood from deep gouges of claw marks covering much of her breasts and belly. Large patches of the woman’s skin were missing. Some of the beorhs flayed the demigoddess alive while the others raped her. Deep puncture marks from their savage bites covered the woman’s body. However, Soma’s face showed no sympathy or mercy. Her eyes were alight in blood lust.
“You are the betrayer who killed my husband; the docke who sided with Kriell. Prepare to meet your death.” Soma’s eyes gleamed as she lifted her sword high over the green woman.
Spanca slowly and painfully sat up for her executioner, tears streaming down her cheeks. “Let me get on my knees so you can remove my head and end this existence. I cannot go on.”
~~~
After the tremor had separated them from Narslac and Soma, Urith and Fedelm tried to find another tunnel. As they passed the insane Unis, they heard the Sky Goddess singing a tune about Heptarc. Following Fedelm’s lead, the dazed warrior stumbled along, nearly falling several times as the floor shook. Following a series of twisting turns, the pair suddenly entered the throne room of Caruun. Above them was the deep black stretching into what looked to be infinity supported by the beehive shaped cavern walls of spiraling black and white cubes gave the pair the feeling of vertigo. In the middle of the cavernous room was the throne of the underworld. A sudden jolt of the floor sent them scurrying to the platform where the throne of Caruun resided.
“Where can we go?” Fedelm’s voice verged on hopelessness.
It appeared the Fates heard her when a nearby tunnel suddenly collapsed, sending billowing waves of dust toward them. Urith stared at the darkness above them, trying to avoid the unsteadiness he felt. He almost felt like the rock below them was lifting, but he could see the walls and caves around them were collapsing.
“I think we are stuck here,” he stated calmly. Fedelm thought she heard a note of welcome to his statement. He looked down at her.
“I’m sorry.”
She lashed out at the big man, pummeling her fists into his chest. “Curse You! How dare you give up?” Then, she stopped, her blue eyes hurt as the tears fell. She leaned against him.
“I’m sorry.” She told him, grabbing him for support as another quake struck around them. The woman noticed he wasn’t looking at her.
Instead, Urith was staring at the black and white throne covered in carvings. Each hideous figurine was a small statuette of a spirit where Caruun kept souls for special torment. When Fedelm looked at the chair, she saw the carvings were moving. Released into the air, the grotesque figures turned into blue orbs, slowly going skyward. As the spheres lifted higher, their light revealed the black ceiling closing down on them. The bottom of Kamin was coming together with the human realm.
“Reach the sky. Use the Skool!” They heard the voice of Dughorm at the same time. The man and woman stared at the shield.
“Curse the gods, I hate this thing,” Urith told her as he lifted it above his head. He pulled her close with his sword arm.
“Well, my friend Dughorm. You’ve left me with a choice.” Urith yelled into the darkness as the ground shook again. “We get crushed by the coming collapse, or we get flattened by all the rock which will drop on our heads.” He turned his head to Fedelm and gave her his sneer smile. “Your choice!”
Fedelm quickly wiped her eyes with her forearm and tried to smile. “I take none of those options.” She stood on her toes and kissed his scarred cheek.
Da Umca Mivwar echoed briefly before the blast of energy upward and the man and woman held each other waiting for their deaths.
~~~
When the gateway closed, the raging storms and snows affecting the lands quickly stopped. Across the kingdoms, people watched as the overcast clouds began to peel away. What they witnessed after the clouds retreated was breathtaking. High in the sky, people watched thousands upon thousands of little spheres dancing among the winds. Some witnesses later told stories about a huge courtyard of stone structures floating among the clouds. Those who saw the sight claimed the stone structures suddenly turned into mists which quickly scattered with the orbs.
On the morning of the destruction, in the vast Citadel of Br-Ynys, Oslaf and Imenal had just arrived in the Great Hall when they noticed familiar faces already sitting at the table. The men stopped in their tracks, dropping the papers they carried.
Dughorm, Uolven, and Caestia along with many other dead warriors held up their mugs of heathmead before disappearing as blue orbs.
The Esterblud leader and the satgert stared at the empty table until Henther joined them. The woman could not understand why the two men looked so pale that morning.
~~~
The season of the harvest came to Kamin, long after the snows quickly melted following the destruction of Yns Garraid. While there was considerable damage done to the crops and animals, the weather became warmer, returning to familiar patterns.
Oslaf stood on the wooden dock at Eran, watching the crews loading a cuggle for the forthcoming trip. The young man wore an elegant green tunic with the embellished figure on the front. The gold thread showed the image of an Estercetus, a sea serpent symbol of the combined clans of Esterblud. It was also the symbol of his high status as one of the three leaders of Esterblud now. Wilgam and Draca were part of the council that ruled the lands. He turned at the sound of a cart coming next to him.
“My Lord, I’ve brought along enough heathmead to fill another ship.” Atheern proudly declared as he looked down at the smiling king.
“You old Gallaeci trader, what makes you think you need that much?”
“I heard many tales about the savages and demigods in the unknown lands. They don’t even know what a good drink is. I must remedy this.” The fat, bearded man’s eyes twinkled at the thought of selling his goods to the lands yet to be discovered. Oslaf laughed as he stepped aside for the man climbing down from the cart. He watched Atheern ordering several nearby people to help him unload the wagon.
“Why so happy?” A very pregnant Henther came next to the man.
“He’s an interesting man,” Oslaf turned to his wife. “He’ll drive everyone crazy with his tales on that old Cahmais ship.” She noticed the slight melancholy in his voice.
“You wish to go on this adventure, don’t you?”
Her new husband lightly rubbed his hand in a circle on her belly. “Every Esterblud wants adventure. But no, I have other responsibilities now.”
“A bit more mundane than you’re used to. It’s only been a season since the downfall of the gods. You sure you’re not going to get restless?” Henther’s blue eyes searched Oslaf, looking for his reaction. He smiled.
“Don’t worry; I’m more like my father now. This motley crew can regale me with their stories if they return.”
“Who are you calling motley?” The familiar gruff voice came from behind. “I’ve still got enough parts left to cuff you upside the head.”
Oslaf and Henther turned to see Urith and Fedelm walking to them, followed by the limping Imenal and Brihar. Like Henther, Fedelm’s belly looked ready to burst with a child.
“I wondered when you might show up,” Oslaf told his uncle. “And I’m not the trainee anymore. Cuff me, and you would be in a world of hurt.”
Urith gave his sneer smile, and his gray eyes gleamed. “Yes, you are now the leader of our tribe and already becoming like the rest of those nobles. Let the others do your work.”
Oslaf returned the smile and bowed to Fedelm. When he looked at his uncle, he realized the man in front of him had not changed, but then again the Clovel Destroyer was a changed man. Outwardly, he still dressed as a warrior with his green tunic over chain mail and leather pants. The Shield of Skool hung over the man’s back, and his Clovel sword remained in the scabbard at his side.
However, since he and Fedelm returned after using the Skool to cut through the collapsing chamber of the underworld, Urith’s outlook was different. Surviving the gods forced his uncle to see Kamin in a new light. The man no longer felt beholding to ancient traditions and cultures around the Maflow Sea. This expedition was just a small part of many things Urith sought to change.
“I’ll see that Oslaf remains grounded,” Brihar stood next to the young Esterblud warrior and Henther. “He will be like the brothers I lost.”
The leader of the Gramcle somehow survived the skull fractures he received at Yns Garraid. The beorh’s rocks may have left a noticeable depression on one side of the man’s face, but Brihar was now the leader of the Geniht guard who carried out the orders of the council. He was also a trusted advisor for Oslaf.
Urith stepped close to his friend, taking Brihar by the forearm. “Of that, I have no doubt, my friend. Fedelm and I have decided we will name this child Micaq in honor of a brave fighter.” The large man suddenly looked around. “Have you seen Soma?”
“She is on the ship already with Guthlaf,” Fedelm told him. “It appears your son is showing off for his mother. Be careful, the man wants to become a sailor.”
Urith looked in the direction Fedelm indicated, catching sight of the large young man dressed in the leather leggings and blue wool shirt of a sailor. Guthlaf arrived in Eran with Soma recently. After returning to Esterblud, Fedelm and Urith joined the auburn hair woman in the village of where they recovered from their injuries. At that time, Urith learned he had a son. Soma and Urith, with Fedelm’s reassurance, determined Urith’s best role would be as a mentor, so they decided not to tell the young man about Urith. However, during a long time together among the woman and Urith, there was a rediscovery of Urith’s buried feelings for Soma.
“He’ll be another work like Oslaf,” Imenal commented as he watched the interaction between mother and son. “I’m glad Soma made it back.”
“You and me both,” Brihar told him dryly. Urith laughed at the statement while Imenal looked at them confused.
“You’ve been too busy with the Citadel, so you’ve not heard the story,” Fedelm told Imenal. “Soma is the one that brought Brihar back from death.”
“That’s not entirely accurate,” Narslac stated as the brave one-armed man joined the conversation. He was grinning as he confronted Fedelm. “Good thing you’re not a Skald. Your stories would make us all look bad.”
Looking offended, Fedelm took Urith by the arm. “Are you going to let him say such things?” she asked sweetly.
The giant man held up one hand in defense, “He has a right to his tales. Besides, you weren’t there as I recall.”
“That’s right,” Narslac immediately started recalling his tale to Imenal. “Soma and I discovered Brihar hanging over the back of an erba. Nearly froze to death and blood everywhere but there Brihar was, all wrapped up in Urith’s tunic. But I’ll give the woman credit for healing the Gramcle fighter’s wounds.”
“As well as your own,” Brihar reminded the Skald.
“True,” Narslac unconsciously felt the area around his chest where the scars remained. His face went somber as he remembered back to the events. “However, it was Spanca who dragged you from the gateway to the erba. We thought you were dead. I’m not sure we would have found you when we escaped.”
Brihar nodded, “The Fates were good to me on that day, despite losing my brothers. Do not blame yourself for nothing.”
“What of Spanca? I never heard this story.” Imenal asked.
Narslac turned to the satgert. “Fortunately, Soma is not a killer at heart. When I finally made my way through the snow, Soma held her sword above the demigoddess. I’ll never forget the pain on her face at that moment. She wanted revenge and vengeance, but the woman realized none of that would come from killing Spanca.” The Skald stopped, shaking his head.
“I finally got Soma to let go of the sword, and then I saw what those monsters had done to Spanca. They nearly skinned her alive, may the god’s rot in the void.” Anger grew in Narslac’s voice. “I think when Spanca begged to die, it finally hit Soma. Both women suffered grievously on that day. We found Brihar after that. Spanca put him on the erba to save him.”
“Where is Spanca now?” Imenal voice broke a bit, his face expressing his awe at the tale.
“She’s still recovering, and we left her with Micale in the village of Hariwill,” Narslac said. “The priestess is quite taken with helping her. I believe after Micale found out about Mivraa’s death, she was searching for some type of focus for her world. I think sanctuary for the demigods would be a perfect substitute, don’t you?”
Imenal immediately agreed to the Skald’s idea, telling the man he would press for the temples to spread the word. As the new Sacred Overlord, Imenal had considerable influence despite the turmoil caused by the destruction of the realms. The man understood the world around them was changing dramatically. Soon, Oslaf and the Sacred Overlord would begin their journey to the other kingdoms around the Maflow Sea to establish the new order. Imenal held no illusions to the challenging work in front of him.
“We must go,” Urith interrupted the conversation. “The tide won’t wait for us.” He pressed his hand around the forearm of Imenal, who returned the handshake of his friends.
“Good fortune to you, uncle,” Oslaf told Urith.
The warrior nodded, giving his nephew a grin. “Just remember to keep training. You never know when you might need it.”
As Urith and Fedelm boarded the cuggle, they met Soma as she left.
“How are you holding up?” The warrior reached out to hold her, taking Soma in his arms,
“I’m fine. Please take care of our son. When you return, you and Fedelm’s son will have a brother.” The woman patted her stomach. Fedelm watched them, unfazed by what she heard. The warrior and the auburn hair woman still held something special between them and Fedelm learned to approve. During the conversations among the trio, it was evident Urith’s passion for Soma remained just an intense as the feelings between her and Urith. While it might be expected for one man and one wife, the woman came to the conclusion that such things came from their traditions. She reminded herself that, in their insane world, jealousy and possessiveness based upon the old ways would not make their lives better. Fedelm would be with Urith. To her, that mattered more than how many children he might father.
Urith was an adventurer at heart. He was a tenacious fighter, but his tremendous passion for those he loved came out once a person knew him. Soma was correct; Urith could not be expected to just settle in a village to live out his existence. But, he did need a place to call home when he returned. After finding out she was pregnant, Fedelm thought about her options. She made her choice.
Soma released the large man, touching his scarred face lightly. The auburn hair woman stepped in front of Fedelm. She hugged her as well. “Are you sure about this? You could stay with me when your little one arrives.”
Fedelm shook her head. “No, I’ve made up my mind. I will follow the man into the unknown with his son.”
Soma nodded, understanding what the blond woman told her. “Take care of yourself and the little one to come. I look forward to your return.” The woman quickly stepped down the gangplank to the dock. She didn’t turn to look back, quickly passing Imenal and Brihar.
After the ship had sailed, Urith stood on the stern, just past the nearly empty quarterdeck. He watched the familiar tall landmarks of Esterblud gradually fading into the background of green and blue vegetation. The man suddenly felt the presence of Fedelm.
“You know, Soma was right. You should have stayed to have our child. Together you and Soma could raise the brothers. It’s not fair to force you along.” The explorer spoke from the heart.
“You did not force me. I made the decision with that knowledge. I would not do well waiting for you to return, if at all.” She replied stoically. “We all make our choices in life. I’m content with my decision.” Fedelm took his hand. “I’m actually excited by the prospects. You have a good crew and something to strive for. Now you will have two more sons.”
He turned his head as the wind whipped his long hair. She thought she noticed a bit of gray as he gave her a roll of the eyes. “Excited is not what I would call it. Soon we will pass Regiussa on our way into the unknown sea.”
“After what we just went through, it should be quite peaceful.” She gave him a smile to go with the sarcasm. “If not, you always have the Shield of Skool on your back.”
Urith’s face went somber. “No, it won’t be used, that I can promise.”
Puzzled, she stared at him. “Then, why bring it along?” Nobody but you can touch it.”
With a practiced smoothness, the warrior pulled the shield from behind his back, holding it so the medallion front could be seen.
“Sevethm, Regaligc, Gcothrem, Doltais,” he read the inscriptions aloud
“Sovereign, sacred, justice, and vengeance,” she repeated the words in their language.
“I’ve had this thing on my back and a lot of time to think about it. Does our new world need a weapon from those creatures who thought they were gods?” He was asking her and himself the same question.
“It’s saved us a few times,” she replied.
“Yes, and killed many that might not have deserved it. I will not use this weapon against anyone we might come across. I don’t believe I’m a god.” The Clovel Destroyer released the wood and metal object. The Shield of Skool hit the water at an angle, sliding down under the waves. The couple watched the weapon of the gods quickly disappear from sight. They remained quiet, listening to the straining sound of the ship and sails moving through the water.
Urith turned her away from the edge of the ship. “You know the only tales about the unknown sea come to us from shipwrecked people they’ve found in Regiussa. I hope we don’t find ourselves in that position. It was bad enough the first time we met.”
Fedelm slid her hand around the crook of the explorer’s big arm. “I agree, but we don’t have the gods against us any longer. Let’s hold that memory for ourselves and our son to pass down to his children.”