The Black God's War (28 page)

“You’re such a beautiful boy!” the lighter woman said in a thick accent Caio didn’t recognize. She pressed her heavy body against him and rested her hands on his hips.

“Get away!” he cried.

The olive woman’s arm slipped around him from behind, and her firm hand rubbed his chest. Her breasts pressed against his back. She made as much contact as she could against his back and pressed against his buttocks.

The drums began popping and pounding, faster and faster.

Caio tried to remove himself from her strong grip, but other bodies pressed against them, leaving him no room to get away. Both women had him wrapped up and were holding him with surprising strength. The darker woman lowered her arms, dug her elbows into his stomach, and moved her hands up and down his inner thighs.

Caio found himself passive, unable to say no. The bass-stringed instrument slid up and down from higher to lower notes while two mandolin players picked their instruments with expert speed.

They’d managed to pull his
cremos
off his shoulders and the darker woman somehow yanked it off his arms, leaving him in his undergarments with his robe around his feet.

The women spun him around. He marveled at the glistening skin of the darker-skinned woman as she disrobed. Before Caio could move, she pressed her nude body against him. He pushed against her, trying to break free, but the other woman grabbed his waist from behind and the women kept him upright between them.

He continued to struggle. The larger, darker woman tickled his neck with her snakelike tongue. Shivers ran across his skin. His muscles felt teased and weak. Her mouth jumped to his nipples and bit him. Caio looked away, to the stage, and saw the vocalist staring at him as she wailed.

This is offensive and wrong. It’s madness!

The women squeezed his body between theirs, massaging him along his thighs, chest, and back with their four hands, sliding their bodies against him erotically.

The olive woman turned around again, bent at her waist and leaned forward, and thrust herself back against his pelvis as the first woman undressed him completely. The light-skinned woman held the sides of his chest in her strong hands and restricted his movement from behind.

No one else around them seemed to notice what was happening to him. The bodies in the crowd pressed close to each other as they celebrated the music. Many of them danced passionately, rubbing against each other.

Caio put his hands on the buttocks of the woman in front of him and pulled her against him, rotating his hips.

My gods, forgive me.

Chapter 40: Trust in the Darkness

AN INVISIBLE POWER, one that felt like two large hands, groped at Lucia’s body as it lifted her. Her limbs flailed as she floated, helpless and filled with revulsion. She flew past hovering torches that afforded her a view of the water below. The boundaries of the dark sea could not be seen, but an uncountable number of bodies floated beneath her. Despite an incredible urge to vomit, nothing came up her throat.

Lord Danato’s shadowy form appeared larger and larger as she approached his lair. He stood and stared with unrepentant eyes, his face like coal. Danato’s body was a tower of muscle and black leather. He appeared even larger than he had when she was a child.

Lucia was lowered softly onto the clammy cave floor, one pace away from the black god. She stood and trembled, coming up not even to his knees. His body dripped with either steam or sweat.

“I need Caio.” Her body felt defiled. “How could you even think of harming—”

“Dear Lucia, how will you honor your Lord?” His voice was deeper and more miserable than she remembered.

“I—I’ve come all this way.”

“My daughter, your journey was nothing compared to the distance you must travel to reach your own heart.”

“Please,” and the next words felt like pressing hot cinders against her flesh, “Lord Danato, I need your help.”

The orange teardrop stared down at her. “Over there. You will find Caio’s body.” Lord Danato stretched out his arm and pointed into the pitch-black bowels of the cave.

You won’t even light the way?

Coals burned red in a nearby pit, but they gave off almost no light. A steamy blackness hung before her.

“Is it safe for me to go in there?”

“Of course, dear Lucia.”

I will not trust you. But I’ll go.

“Caio?” she called.

Step by timid step, she inched into the cave with fear suffocating her spirit. “Caio?”

The darkness surrounded her as she stepped forward and committed to discovering whatever lay there. She heard Ysa’s voice inside her head:
Lower yourself. Crawl.

Lucia dropped to the dank floor. The clammy dirt stuck to her fingers and knees as she clawed forward.

A hand grabbed her forearm.

She pulled back.

Lucia and Caio shouted each other’s names.

“Thank the gods you’re alive,” she said.

He crawled closer and embraced her. His wet body felt warm.

She yelled back to Danato, “You said he was dead.”

“I said, what if he was?”

“And why would you do that to me? Why?”

“Ah, dear Lucia. You ask your Lord exactly the right question. What did you feel when you thought Caio might be dead?”

“I hated you.”

“That is why you must go deeper. When you do, you will know the answer to your question. Go back to the root.”

Lucia locked one arm with Caio and stood, pulling him through the darkness. As they shuffled toward the red coals, Lucia pulled ahead of her brother and crossed her arms over her chest. She sat far away from the dim light. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw Caio sitting by the pit, wearing his cremos robe and sweating.

“Lord Danato,” Caio began, “we seek your aid. We want to end the war. We want to heal our people of this plague.”

A howling gust extinguished the torches. Lucia could only see by the bare light of the burning coals.

Danato remained standing at the edge of the cave, staring off into the darkness. “And you would accept my assistance?”

“Yes, my Lord,” Caio said. “The truth is that we can find no other way.”

“Truth,” Danato held the sound at the end of the word, as if contemplating it.

“Lord Danato,” Caio added, “If I may make another request. I beg you, please give my sister release from her suffering. She is innocent—”

“Innocence has no part in it,” Danato interrupted. “Someone must pay the price.”

Caio walked closer to Danato and prostrated before the black god. “Whatever it is, I will pay the price for her. Punish me, please, but give her absolution.”

The god took two steps away from him to the edge of the cliff and looked away into the steamy blackness.

“Caio, stop it,” Lucia said, not wanting to move any closer to Danato.

“You sense the truth, boy Haizzem. About absolution.”

Lucia’s voice erupted, “You’re punishing me for something I had nothing to do with?”

“Misdeeds have consequences. Fairness is a lofty concept, Lucia. It will give you no benefit. But healing, that is something else.”

“You speak of healing when you don’t even let me fall asleep peacefully? I’ve been scared to get into my bed most of my life. Even now you come to me in nightmares and soak my sheets in blood.”

“Lucia, I do speak of healing. There are many things that gods cannot speak of without invitation. We wait patiently for you to speak to us.”

“You
play
with us,” she said. “What can we say to you?”

“I do what I must. I swore to Ysa to help you.”

“Nonsense!”

“Perhaps you will need time to consider your fears. Do you wish to find out the truth, Lucia? Caio?”

“Yes,” Caio said right away.

Lucia hesitated deliberately. “Yes.”

“Do you also wish to make matters right?”

Caio and Lucia agreed just as before.

“I’m proud of you, Lucia.” Danato turned to face them. “So it will be done. I ask one thing of you, royal daughter and son. You will receive news soon from Pawelon. I am sure you will do the right thing. Tonight, I suggest you enjoy your time together. Ride all the way until you reach the lake. The moon will be bright and you will remember it forever.”

Then came the silence, the black, and rest.

Ilario’s handsome face greeted Lucia as she opened her eyes. He seemed unable to find words equal to the moment.

Lucia’s hands went to her body, finding her
cremos
robe covering her and her arms still covered by her long gloves. She wondered how unappealing her face appeared after enduring Danato’s trials. She only nodded, trying to say, “It’s done.”

Caio’s glorious eyes made her smile a little and gave her some hope they had done the right thing.

“Whenever you are ready,” Ilario said, “a message has arrived from Pawelon. Their sage-prince has challenged you to a duel, Caio. He has proposed total victory in the war to the winner of the single combat.”

Caio examined his body with a look of shock, touching his chest and shoulders. “All my wounds have been healed.” His brow quivered as he seemed to accept the reality. “Lord Danato healed me.”

Chapter 41: Rites of Succession

VIERI WAITED FOR HIS SON at the highest lookout within the Rezzian camp, listening to the gentle wind. A white canopy provided shade for as many as a score, but Vieri paced the sunny western edge of the plateau alone, looking up from the ground now and then in anticipation of Caio’s arrival—perhaps Lucia’s as well—while weighing Prince Rao’s proposition.

Vieri stared at the western horizon. He blew up his cheeks and released the air. Pawelon’s citadel looked tiny and unimpressive, a false image created by the distance.

He removed his sandals and felt the desert floor with his hardened feet. Tiny stones rustled beneath him. Even the most jagged rocks couldn’t penetrate his calluses.

Contemplating the prince’s proposal gave him new hope, despite Rezzia’s bitter defeats the day before. After years of winless strategy, he wondered if his decision to surrender Dux Spiritus would finally tip the scales of history in his favor.

All your tests and tribulations, Lord Galeazzo, have they occurred to bring me to this moment?
His heart ached to believe it was true.
I am still full of faith.
Yet uncertainty clawed at him from the recesses of his soul.

The soldiers far below came fully to attention, then knelt and prostrated. Caio passed between them and climbed the hill using the rocky makeshift stairs. He wore a long tunic down to his sandaled feet and a smile. Vieri waited, admiring his son’s easy gait.

“Thank you for coming alone,” Vieri said, posture erect.

Caio smelled of sweet orange and lemon. “It
was
difficult to persuade Lucia to stay away.”

“I can imagine.” Vieri led Caio to the smooth table beneath the canopy and they sat across from one another. Caio’s attentive eyes gleamed. “Do you understand what they have proposed?” Vieri asked.

“Yes. Their citadel if I defeat him, plus Duilio.” Caio untied the long scarf from his head and placed it on the table. “If I fail, Rezzia must flee the valley and accept an end to the conflict.”

“And if we decline their offer, Duilio will be hung.” The troubled creases on Caio’s face indicated he had not been told this. “Word has already spread among our men about their proposal. I assume their messengers told more than just our diplomats. As more of our soldiers find out, it becomes harder for us to say no. The pigs know that.”

“The decision is even easier then. The only difficulty is that Lucia won’t accept it.”

Vieri admired his son, wondering how much longer he’d be able to gaze upon his well-formed face. He saw a young man with a pure heart, someone with so much left to experience, someone with the charisma to achieve anything on Gallea. His son was ready to make a glorious impact on history.