The Godlost Land (44 page)

Chapter Thirty Three

“Wake up!”

Some one was yelling at him, half waking Harl from his pleasant dream. But Harl didn't want that and he tried to ignore whoever was bothering him,  The bed was after all, very comfortable.

“I said wake up boy!”

This time the words were accompanied by the feel of something prodding his shoulder. Hard enough that it hurt. But still, he wanted to continue sleeping despite the pain. He needed to sleep. So instead of opening his eyes he rolled over on to his side and tried to pretend it wasn't happening.

“He's stark naked and sleeping in his pit!”

Another voice joined the first, and she was even louder for some reason. “I mean he's actually sleeping in his pit! And he's on fire! He's on fire and fast asleep!”

“I know.” The first voice, the one who'd prodded him, answered her. “His old master used to do the same. He said it was the most comfortable sleep he ever got. And that it was warm. Master Gallowgood always said that his old bones needed to be kept warm.”

“Now get up boy!”

She prodded him again, this time in the back and harder again. And just in case he didn't get the message she smacked him hard around the arm with whatever she'd been prodding him with. It was then that Harl's eyes reluctantly opened. Clearly he wasn't going to be allowed to continue sleeping.

“What?” He was awake, sort of, but he really didn't want to be. He just wanted these people to go away. But when she poked him again he guessed that wasn't going to happen.

“I said get up boy! Shake your lazy bones out of there.” And when he was too slow to respond she poked him some more. It was getting quite annoying. And what was this whole “boy” thing anyway?  He was over thirty, now.  Hardly a boy any more.

Reluctantly but knowing that he had no choice Harl rolled over to the edge of the pit and then with a little effort made to get to his feet. Unfortunately his feet hadn't yet woken up and so instead of standing he ended up falling to the ground and bruising his knees. But he got up quickly enough after that and he even felt awake. The shock of the cold ground on his flesh was bracing!

“Mistress Windstrider, High Priestess.” Harl recognised them quickly enough, and then remembered the rest, including the fact that they shouldn't be here. They should be in Midland Heights, in the middle of a war. “The battle?”

“Won, thanks to you,” Dina told him. “And three more of my peers are gone. But we have questions.”

“Questions you can answer after you've dressed.” The High Priestess jumped in and he guessed she wasn't impressed with his choice of attire. And it was then that he realised he was naked, his clothes having burnt off in the fire. He hadn't gone to sleep unclothed. But he suspected his visitors wouldn't listen to his excuses. So instead of arguing about it he poured a bucket of water from the trough over himself and then hurried into his house.

He was back soon enough, dressed in the neatest clothes he could find – not that he had many. And he had even less now that he'd let one set of clothes burn away. Maybe he should have thought about undressing first before he'd gone to sleep.

“High Priestess, Mistress.” He tried to show at least a little respect. They didn't notice.

“Boy, tell us how you crafted this.” The wizard pointed to the bow strapped to Erislee's back. Where did the knowledge come from? Did you pray? Have you joined the temple of Artemis?

“Never!” Even still half asleep he would not admit to such a betrayal of his family. But he did know what they needed to hear. And it felt almost as bad.

“I made a deal.” The instant the words came out of his mouth Harl wished they hadn't. They were probably the worst four words in the entire history of the world. After all, a deal was exactly what had started this entire disaster. But unfortunately it was true.

Hesitantly he told them the rest. Of his prayer, pathetic as it was. Of the deal he had made. Of his waking up with the knowledge he needed. And of the days he had then spent at his pit. It wasn't easy to tell them. Not just because it sounded like the ravings of a crazy man. But because much of it seemed like a dream. But he knew it was true. He knew it most of all when he saw the longbow and when he felt the magic within it. Divine magic. Powerful magic. Magic that he couldn't fully understand. But which he remembered casting.

It was a strange thing. He had crafted the bow. He remembered doing it. And when he looked at it and felt the magic within it and the way it was shaped into the structure, he knew it was his. And it was perfect. But for the life of him he no longer had the knowledge of how he had crafted it. If he was called upon to do it again he couldn't. He wanted to. He felt the desire – more than the desire the need – to craft it every time he looked at it. But there was something that stood in the way. A gap of some sort in his understanding. And that was something he'd never known before.

Normally when he saw a crafted piece he instantly knew how to craft it. He knew the metals and the shapes. He knew the enchantments. Not this time though. He could craft every piece of that longbow and enchant every spell, but he simply couldn't put them together in his thoughts. And yet it had been he who had actually crafted the weapon! It made no sense.

Harl tried to tell them that. To explain. But he wasn't sure he succeeded. He wasn't sure he could even fully explain it to himself. He also suspected it didn't matter to them. The High Priestess cared only about the weapon she had been given and the wizard about the magic he had used. Neither of them seemed to be interested in what he was saying.

“Boy, you have entered a dangerous land.”

Dina Windstrider was the first to chastise him, and his immediate thought was that that was distinctly unfair. He had done what he had had to do after all. He had even helped save them. Why should he be told off for that?

“You've helped to craft a weapon that goes beyond that of simple magic and metal.
Far beyond
. You've crafted a divine weapon. And you will forever be known for that.”

“Other wizards and nobles will come to you. They will want more weapons. Armour. Artefacts. They will want you to craft things that should not be crafted. They will see you as a way to bring them power. Immense power. Priests will come to you as well. Some will want you to craft more of these weapons. Some will want to prevent you crafting others. The dragons will want you dead of course, since you have crafted the only weapon capable of killing them. The demons will want you too for the power you could grant them. Even the gods themselves will be interested in you. What you have done is something that none of their servants can do.”

“And none of them will have a care that you don't know how to craft another such weapon.”

“If you are to protect yourself there is only one action you can take. You must pledge yourself entirely to one of the thirteen gods. Only with the support of a god will you be able to withstand the coming storm. Understand that you cannot run far enough or fast enough to escape them. They will always hunt you down. You cannot fight those who will come. And you cannot hide.”

“You have a little time, because only Erislee and myself yet know what you have done, and we will not speak your name. But not much time. When others hear word of what the High Priestess is carrying they will be curious. They will want to know where she got the bow from. And there are always ways of finding things out for those who are curious enough.”

Was she right? Harl didn't know. He hadn't thought about it. He hadn't really thought about anything at all since he'd started work. He'd just done what he had to do. He feared she was right. But at the same time he wondered if she was perhaps being just a little too dire. She was an overly serious woman in his view.

But it also came to Harl that while he might not be able to recreate the bow, he could still do so much more than he had been able to do before. He could feel the magic within him, cleaner and stronger than it had been. He had knowledge within him as well. Spells and knowledge he wasn't sure he had known before. In fact, as his tired mind slowly awoke he realised he had ideas to spin around in his thoughts that he'd never had before. Dreams maybe. Dreams of what he could build. Not the weapons of the gods perhaps, but still weapons more powerful and armour stronger than anything he had known before.

And while his visitors were trying to help him, their words weren't actually right. They were trying to frighten him. They should have been celebrating and encouraging him. He could help more with the war now. He could build them what they needed to win.

But they wouldn't understand that. They probably wouldn't accept it if they did. In fact they would be upset if they even suspected. And so he decided it was time to turn the conversation to other matters. Things that were more important. And just then there was one single need overpowering everything else.

“High Priestess, Mistress, I'll think carefully on your words. But for the moment I'm simply too hungry to think about much at all.”

Hungry though wasn't the word. Starving was closer to it. But really there was no true word to describe the huge gnawing hole inside him that was aching to be filled with food. He was thirsty too, something he proved a moment later as he cupped his hands and lifted them to his face again and again with water from the trough. It felt as though he hadn't eaten or drunk anything for a week – which when he thought about it might well be the case.

Crafting divine weapons it seemed was hard on a man.

Chapter Thirty Four

The rift valley was no longer a rift. It wasn't even really a valley. It was a crater. At least that was what Nyma thought of it as she and the rest of the small patrol came riding through it. But then given everything else they had already seen maybe that was only to be expected. Nothing had been right from the moment they had left the ancient fortress of Glass River.

A thousand soldiers, all that could be gathered at short notice had marched out of the Glass River Valley ten days before. All of them had been frightened. All of them had known that they could well be dead in a few short days. And all of them had also known that there was no choice. Even though they were outnumbered, the High Priestess and her army could not be lost. The battle and the war could not be lost. Because if they were then all hope was lost with them.

So they had marched north, frightened but determined, planning on using their smaller numbers to launch hit and run attacks. The hope was that if they used the land to their advantage, striking from concealment and moving fast, they would wear down the enemy. If they could do it well enough for long enough, they could cause significant damage while they waited for more troops to follow. And despite everything there were still plenty of recruits joining their cause. Maybe they could even stop the attack on Midland Heights? If it hadn't already happened.

It hadn't been long before they had come across the first survivors from Cut Valley Holding and realised just how bad things were. There weren't many and most of those they found were wounded. It was why they were still fleeing even weeks later. Their injuries had slowed them. When the enemy had come upon them in numbers they had destroyed the town. They had been merciless. And of the thirty thousand people who had lived in the town, those who had survived had thought that  less than a thousand still lived.

It had broken the people. First they had been freed by the High Priestess. They had celebrated day and night for a week after that. And then, just a few precious months later the chimera had marched on them and their freedom had been taken away from them and replaced with death. It was the cruellest jape imaginable.

But at least the survivors could tell them something of what was happening. The town had been taken by only a small force. Maybe a thousand or so chimera and soldiers now held it. But more were joining them all the time. Heading south from the Kingdom of the Lion and then marching through the town and on up through the rift valley to Midland Heights.

That had brought Nyma and the others hope. For a time they had thought that if they could simply take the town they could stop the enemy, destroying his armies one by one as they marched for Midland Heights. It would be a tough battle, one on one was never easy, and then every battle that followed would be tougher as they had to hold the town. And Midland Heights would have to stand by itself until they could finally march on it. Still, they had hoped.

Then of course things had changed again. Even as they had been preparing themselves for the attack on the town, the sky had turned black.

Black though didn't truly describe it. It was something much worse than just the absence of light. There had been thunder in the ground. The entire world had started screaming and then great blood red tears in that obsidian black sky had appeared. None of them had known what had happened or what it had meant. But they had all soon discovered what it meant to the chimera. The chimera however had gone wild. All of them.

Even as they'd watched from the hills where they were grouping, the chimera in the town had started attacking one another. Attacking one another and the soldiers who led them. They had even attacked the priests who commanded them. Cut Valley Holding had for the third time in a month been laid low by battle. But this time the battle was among the forces holding the town.

It had been a blood bath. They had heard the screams from their position almost a league away. They were the screams of battle and death. Of soldiers screaming their last and beasts howling with frenzied blood lust. There had been fire as the soldiers had tried to drive the savage beasts back with flames. Wizards had raged with magic and lightning bolts and fire balls had destroyed much of the town. And no quarter had been given to anyone. For half a day the battle had raged while Nyma and the others had stood in their encampment and watched, trying to work out what was happening.

Six or eight hours later as night began to fall, the battle had finally started to die down and they had watched as the survivors had started to flee the burning town. There hadn't been many survivors, and most of them were chimera of one sort or another. It seemed that their numbers had overcome both the steel of the soldiers and the magic of the priests. But of course they had been killing each other as well. It seemed that whatever had happened had caused them to descend into complete savagery.

Nyma and the others had spent the next few days rounding up the survivors, capturing those few soldiers and priests that had escaped and killing all the beasts they could find. While they did so they hoped to find out from them what had happened in the town. But most of those they captured could tell them little. The sky had turned black, the land had screamed, and then the chimera had run wild. That was as much as they knew.

Scouts meanwhile had set up look out posts to watch for any more armies heading south from the Kingdom of the Lion. They still had no idea where the scouts who should have been carrying out that duty before had gone. Their best guess was that the advancing enemy had overrun them. But it was only a guess.

They had found the enemy a few days later. Or one of the enemy's armies at least. A small army of a thousand harpies and soldiers marching on the town. But even as they'd been preparing to face them in battle the enemy had stopped marching south. And the next day they'd turned around. They had fled the Rainbow Mountains and run back to the Kingdom of the Lion.

It was then when they had heard of the army's about turn, that Nyma and the others had finally understood that whatever had happened had truly not been the false temple's doing. It might have been a spell gone awry as many thought. It might have been something else. Something perhaps of the gods? But whatever it had been it had been their demise. It had destroyed the enemy army in Cut Valley Holding and had led to the harpy army fleeing. And if it was as big a spell as they imagined it could have done the same in Midland Heights.

Because of that Nyma and a few others had made the choice to ride up the rift valley to find out what had happened to the city. It was a ride they had not expected to make for many more weeks
at least
. Not until they had been reinforced with more soldiers from Glass River. Enough to attack either a standing army besieging Midland Heights or though she didn't want to even think of it, recapture the city itself if the enemy had taken it. And they couldn't even do that until the false temple had stopped sending soldiers south from the Kingdom of the Lion. But if the enemy was retreating it was a ride they had to make.

It had been a long, slow and frightening ride as they had constantly been on the lookout for the enemy, wary that they were riding towards an army. They were also frightened of what they might find when they got there. That Midland Heights had already fallen. That the false temple had reclaimed it. That the High Priestess and her army were dead.

They had met precious few enemies on their way though. They saw a couple of chimera in the hills and mountains to the sides, but mostly it seemed they were staying out of sight as best they could. None of them were in anything that looked like a military formation. And most of them were badly wounded.

That had simply added to the mystery. If the enemy was there in force then surely they should have had soldiers all the way down the rift valley? They should have been wary of being attacked from the rear. But they had come across no enemy forces. No lookouts. No fortified positions. No patrols. Nor any small brigades of the enemy waiting for them.

Instead there were just a few of the enemy lurking in the hills and mountains. Some had attacked them and had been dispatched. But it wasn't many. A few dozen in total, and they had dealt with them easily as they attacked one by one. The rest had either hidden or run, frightened by their numbers even though they were only a score of riders.

And that also didn't make sense. Chimera could sometimes be driven back – long enough to regroup at least – but they never ran away. Perhaps it was like the beasts in Cut Valley Holding? Perhaps something had affected them? Certainly it seemed that they had stopped listening to whoever controlled them. And now they were returning to the wild.

But when she reached the top of the rift valley where it opened up into a huge expanse at the foot of Midland Heights, Nyma could see for herself that there would be no more of the enemy coming for them. In fact, the enemy would be lucky if any of them were still alive. By contrast as she looked across the valley to the left she could see pennants flying from the walls of the city. They were the pennants of the Huntress. Of Rainbow Mountains. And it seemed that only the first few walls had completely crumbled into mounds of blackened rubble. Most of the city it seemed had escaped the disaster.

That set her heart racing with excitement. Erislee was alive! Hopefully.

Nyma tried not to get her hopes up. Even though it seemed that the rebellion had survived and the false temple had been handed a crushing defeat, that didn't mean that everyone had lived through the battle. If there had been a battle. Surely though the soldiers would have protected Erislee at all costs. She was their symbol. Their hope. As long as she hadn't been standing in the lower levels of the city when whatever had happened she must still be alive.

As for the valley itself, all that remained was a giant blackened crater. If there had been an army of the false temple camped in it as she'd imagined, they weren't there now. The chances were that they were now soot. The valley no longer had any grass. Or dirt. All that remained was a massive depression of jagged rock covered in soot.

But if the valley had been laid waste to, it was the mountains behind it that revealed the true disaster. They had been broken.

How did you break a mountain? Nyma didn't know. But looking at them she knew that someone or something had done just that. Nearer the blackened valley there was evidence of massive rock falls. Avalanches so large that where the rubble had collected it had become hills. Large hills of broken, blackened boulders. And what had been left behind could no longer really be described as mountains anymore.

Mountains had sloping sides. These had sheer cliff faces that had been cut from bare rock. Cliffs that towered hundreds upon hundreds of paces up into air. Almost to the peaks of the mountains themselves. In fact some of them had to be as tall as the valley was wide. It was as though some titan with a shovel had simply come along and scooped out half a mountain range. The same titan she guessed, who had turned the sky black.

Against that the only thing that had protected the soldiers in the city would have been the distance. That and the remains of Midland Height's walls. It seemed that the heart of whatever had happened had been on the far side of the valley, furthest away from the city. That league and a half was the thing that had saved them.

But how many had it saved? That was what mattered.

They rode very slowly toward the city, trying to skirt around the worst of the damage. But it wasn't easy. The footing was treacherous and there was no grass or soil remaining. Only char. Thick black char that she guessed was what had once been soil before it had burnt away. Until then she hadn't known that soil could burn.

They also tried to stay away from the centre of the destruction because it was warm. Even a league and a half away they could feel the heat coming from the far side of the valley. They could also see the air shimmering with heat. And if it was like that where they were, she couldn't even begin to imagine what it must be like closer to the destruction.

Soon the way forward became so difficult that they had to give up riding and continued on foot, leading their horses behind them as they carefully picked their way through the ruin. They could have left the horses behind she supposed, but with chimera out there running wild in the mountains, that would have been cruel. They also didn't want to feed their enemies.

It was a difficult journey. They had to continually search for the easiest path, kicking away the worst of the loose char as best they could so that they could see the solid rock beneath. Rock that had been melted. What sort of heat did it require to melt rock she wondered? But at least it wasn't jagged.