The Bones of the Earth (The Dark Age) (56 page)

“
Bring me the dagger,” said the Queen without moving her eyes from his.

Javor could not make his mouth say “No.” He felt the dagger in his hand, but he could not move his eyes from hers to see it. He felt a desire to bring the dagger to her and felt his feet moving.

“
Javor!” Tiana called. “You do not have to listen to her!”

Tiana’s voice sounded distant. All he could see were Kriemhild’s eyes. It was like his conversation with Sarbox: her green eyes filled his vision and he knew what she wanted him to know, without hearing her voice. Her mind filled his and he could think of nothing else.

He knew that she had directed Goths, Huns and Avars, manipulating their leaders into wars that wore Rome down and finally shattered it. She had directed Ghastog to search across mountains and plains for the dagger and the amulet and bring them to her. The monster had sensed them when Javor had separated the dagger from the amulet to chase Elli’s kidnappers. On its way to take the dagger, Ghastog had stumbled across a wandering group of raiders and killed them all, eating two in its mindless gluttony. When it got to the spot where it had sensed its goal, more little men had tried to oppose it. Ghastog had swept them away like grass, but found only the weaker of the items it sought: the amulet. Then it sensed the dagger coming closer. With horrifying calculation, it crushed the small woman who cowered in the amulet’s hiding place and loped through greying dawn back to its temporary home, knowing revenge would bring the dagger’s bearer to it.

It was my fault. I killed my parents to save Elli, who never loved me.
Javor was back on the mountain top, looking at a tall woman whose green eyes were no greener than her daughter’s, no larger than any woman’s. The morning sun shone full on Kriemhild’s face and Javor could easily see fine lines near her eyes, tiny wrinkles on her neck. The white robe had slipped and he could see tiny ripples along her naked white thigh.

“
With the Eye, my will cannot be resisted!” said Kriemhild. “Bring me the dagger!”

Only Tiana moved. She walked up to the Queen and slapped her, hard across the face. “This is the secret of mankind: your mind cannot be dominated unless you consent to it.”

Kriemhild snarled incoherently and smashed the heel of her hand into Tiana’s face. Then she kicked her, and as the Gnostic woman fell to the ground, Kriemhild pulled the great amber ball off her forehead and struck it as hard as she could against Tiana’s head. Tiana lay still on the rocks.

Javor ran to Tiana and Kriemhild scrambled past her body to the smouldering remains of Stuhach, now reduced to little more than a large pile of ash. She thrust her hand into the middle and pulled out Javor’s amulet. “The Third Companion!” She held up the amulet in one hand and the amber globe in the other. “Yes! Now bring me the dagger!” she shrieked.

But she was too late. Sarbox’s tail whipped at Javor’s hand and the dagger went skittering across the rock. The dragon limped forward, but it was still faster than any human and it had the dagger in its claw—the same one that Javor had cut off a year earlier, the one that had re-grown but still did not look quite like the rest of the beast. Kriemhild shrieked again, wordlessly, but Sarbox, despite his broken wing and reptilian face, appeared triumphant.

“
You liar!” Javor shouted. “I saved your life with that dagger! Give it back!”

I have no obligation to speak truth to a mortal man,
came the answer in Javor’s head. Sarbox turned and was looking for a way off the mountain top that did not involve flying when a loud crack echoed off the mountains around them. Rocks tumbled off the peak, and only then, looking up to dodge any that might fall on him, Javor noticed that the long rounded hump was shaped like a long snout with raised eye-ridges—

“
It looks like Sarbox. Like a dragon’s head,” he said out loud.

The ground shook more violently. Javor picked up Tiana and pulled her toward the stairs, but the Kobolds were blocking the way as they scrambled down. Danisa, or Ingund or whoever she really was, was crawling toward the steps, too.

Kriemhild jumped up. “Yes, yes, awake oh Great Mother!” She was laughing.

A crack appeared in the hump of rock, then widened. The rocky platform they stood on shook; its edges crumbled. The staircase began disintegrating into a chaotic slope of razor-sharp rock. The young boy, Kriemhild’s son, was clinging to a boulder that was flaking away from the cliff. He hadn’t managed to run very far. A Kobold sprang down the rocks like a goat, took the boy under his arm and brought him back to join the others. Javor momentarily wondered if the Kobold and the boy would not have been better off if they had run down the mountain, away from the slide, but then he was distracted again by Kriemhild.

“
Great Mother, you are awake at last! I am Ildico! I am the avatar of Freya! I return to you your Eye, your Fang and your Scale to make you whole again! I bring you the sacrifices to restore your dominion over this world!” She cackled and danced.

Javor felt as if he were looking down on the scene from a height even higher than the mountains. He saw Ingolf’s body, still bleeding; Tiana sprawled unconscious; the ash that was all that remained of Stuhach; the Kobolds terrified but determined to hold their ground and regain their property; the ridiculous Kriemhild or Ilidico waving her arms over her head. Her transparent white gown had slipped more and she danced almost completely naked in front of the new cave.

Warm air like breath came out of it, and everyone on the rocky platform then knew, not as though someone had told them, but as if they had to acknowledge what they had always known deeply. They were in the presence of the Dragon, the earth itself, the consciousness of the Great Mother. Javor, Kriemhild, Danisa, the young boy Ana-kui, Goldemar and all the other Kobolds, and Sarbox knew that the dragon had seen and understood everything that had brought them to the mouth of one of the Four Hundred, the dragon that was the Alps. Even Tiana’s eyes flickered and fluttered open. Javor picked her up in his arms and held her close to his chest.

They knew they could not hope to hide anything, could not hope to lie any longer. And they knew the enormity of the crime, the depth of the sin that Kriemhild was committing, that they had all played a part in. A formless wail ripped out of Kriemhild’s core and poured out her mouth. She dropped to her knees but she could not escape the dragon and she could not escape her own knowledge.

Ingund felt guilt like a flood. Guilt for willingly aiding her mother’s plans, for pursuing pregnancy by a prince of Rome, for falling in love with a low-born boy and failing to even follow her mother’s simplest instruction. But mostly guilt for the trail of blood that led from her own thighs to her lost baby. She could not move, but sat on the ground, naked, bleeding and weeping.

Sarbox dropped the dagger onto the ground. If a reptile could look ashamed, Sarbox appeared ashamed. It took a step back and disappeared over the edge. Javor looked down the cliff but could not see the small dragon—it had disappeared.

Javor raised his hand. “Preyatel!” he called, and the amulet, as it had once before, sailed out of Kriemhild’s hand to Javor. “That’s mine, I said.” She gasped and whirled, nostrils flaring, but there was another enormous crack and a rumble. The rocky floor beneath her feet crumbled and she fell shrieking into the darkness. She was gone in an instant.

Ingund held her breath but said nothing.

The hole reached to Javor’s toes. He looked down into the darkness and felt the warm breath, sweet and rich coming up.
I will keep them safe,
he promised. He knew the dagger and the amulet were not his property, but his responsibility to protect. As was Tiana.
I will keep them safe.

Javor got up again and helped the now-conscious Tiana to her feet. He picked up Ana-kui in his arms; the boy appeared to be unscratched, but he would not speak.

“
The Eye has returned to the Earth whence it came,” said Goldemar. “Come, young man. We will help you all home.”

Epilogue: Constantinople

J
avor watched bars close across Danisa’s face.

The bars were plated with silver and decorated with ivory, and they enclosed the Convent of St. Mary in the Chalkoprateia. The sisters sang a hymn of welcoming another convert to the True Faith as the convent gates swung closed, protecting the Sisters from the outside world.

Danisa had not fought her induction into the convent. She was no longer the confident and commanding hetman’s daughter. A severe black robe now hid her supple body, and a pure white veil over her neck and forehead hid her long, shiny brown hair.

I will always know her.
Javor looked one more time at Danisa’s chin, her nose, and her bright green eyes.
Then the new Mother Superior took her into the chapel, away from the eyes of men forever.

He sighed and left the chapel. Constantinople was enjoying a warm, sunny fall day. The leaves were colourful again and Javor took his time, enjoying the breeze that brought the scent of the sea as he walked back to the Vlanga.

Javor felt strangely at peace as he approached his new home. He pushed open a gate and nodded at a slave standing in the small courtyard paved with loose stones. In the exact centre was a small tree with long, yellow leaves. It did not cast much shade, but Javor liked it.

At the door to the villa, he turned and looked to the western sky.
No rain tomorrow.
Inside, Barbara said “She’s in her rooms,” as she pushed through the connecting door to the tavern on the other side of the villa.

“
You can have my old quarters. They’re quite comfortable!” Malleus, now the
Comes
of the Order, had said. Javor could not get used to the Hammer of Rome’s respect for him. But there were too many painful memories at the Abbey, and he could not imagine how he would have fit in with the monks and novices.
How would I explain the dragon, the monster, Kriemhild to my old friends?

So he had gone back to the only other place in Constantinople that he knew: the Inn of the Four Winds. He smiled as he remembered how Rutius and Barbara had demanded to see some proof that he could pay for decent lodgings, and the looks on their faces when he spilled a handful of gold coins onto the bar. A gift of the Kobolds, from Ingolf’s hoard—“We need none of the wealth of men,” Goldemar had said. “Now the Earth has taken back the Eye of Knowledge, and we must be content with that.” Javor had taken what he could safely and secretly transport himself, with only a vague idea of its value. On the trip back to Constantinople, Malleus had explained the value of gold. “You have enough to live on very comfortably for several years, Javor. But you needn’t spend it. You will always be welcome in the Abbey.”

Javor hadn’t told Rutius and Barbara any of that.
I would have to explain the Kobolds, the monster, the dragon, everything.

Barbara had swept the coins into her apron and screamed for Timon to carry Javor’s bags, then shown him the biggest surprise since his return to the great city: a huge, bright and breezy apartment that took up the whole third storey of a building that backed onto the Inn of the Four Winds. It was this building that had the little courtyard with the skinny tree, and commanded a pleasant view of the avenues that led down to the harbour.

He pushed open the door. Barbara or Timon or whoever was cleaning the apartment that day had opened the shutters to the balconies, letting in the warm breeze and sunshine. Tiana sat in a rocking chair—an amazing invention to Javor—just out of the direct sunlight. She turned and smiled at him. He emptied a small jug of wine into a cup and held it carefully until Tiana had a good grip on it, then wiped her chin she sipped. She smiled again, embarrassed.

Tiana had been unable to speak since Kriemhild had hit her head with the Eye, and she could walk only slowly. Her hands trembled and she had trouble swallowing. But her mind was still whole. Goldemar had given her a flat piece of black slate and white chalk so she could communicate. “I do not wish to return to the Abbey,” she had written.

Javor did not want to go back to the Abbey, either, but he knew he had to return Tiana to Constantinople, at least. And he could not leave Ana-Kui orphaned on the mountainside. So he had brought them with him to Constantinople. Barbara had said something about “marrying into money.”

“
She’s not my wife,” Javor had protested. Barbara smirked, so he added quickly, “She’s my—my auntie.”

“
And this little one is your cousin, then?” Even Javor could tell she did not believe him.

“
Umm, yes. Darko. Say hello to Mistress Barbara, Darko,” Javor had urged, but Ana-Kui would not say anything.

Barbara’s scowl had immediately changed when she saw how Tiana’s hands shook and how she struggled to climb the stairs. “Timon!” she had roared. “Help the lady, now!” Timon and Barbara each had taken one of Tiana’s arms and helped her to the third floor. Tiana had smiled and nodded to say thanks.

Now, on this sunny autumn day, Javor gazed toward the harbor and wondered how the ships sailed across the wind.

He heard scratching. Tiana was writing on her slate. His throat tightened when he saw how slowly and unsteadily her hand moved. “What’s not my fault?” he asked.

She turned the slate around again and resumed her painstaking writing. “Oh, my parents. You mean their deaths? I know.” A tear slid down his cheek.

His throat was dry. He took the empty jug down to the tavern, where Rutius was directing workers who were putting in a new door that actually fit the doorway. Timon was painting the shutters.

“
Ah, Javor, good to see you this morning!” Rutius boomed. “As you can see, my wonderful wife is spending the money you paid us as fast as she can! What can I do for you? More wine?”

Javor gave Rutius the empty jug. His bar had been removed, and he was waiting for a new, marble one to be installed.  “You must tell me someday where you went for a year.”

Javor made up his mind and sat down; the tavern was empty except for him and Rutius, Timon painting the shutters and two workers installing the door. “For a big jug of your
good
wine, Rutius, I’ll tell you.”

He’ll never believe it, anyway.

FIN

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