The Black God's War (42 page)

Gods!

“They
are
,” Lucia paused, “tattoos.”

“She lies,” the sage told the others.

Lucia shook her head.

“If they are not tattoos,” the giant said, “what does this mean?”

The general answered, “That she is another Haizzem. She has already done incredible damage to our army. It seems reasonable.” He raised his voice. “Tell us, wasn’t it you who commanded the storm?”

“I don’t command gods,” she said.

“Give me a straight answer or you will suffer another wound,” the general said.

“I worship the goddess Ysa. I asked her for help. She controlled the storms.”

“Why wouldn’t we know of these markings?” the giant asked. “How could they keep this secret from us?”

The sage answered, “She wore black gloves covering the length of her arms. She wasn’t showing them to her men either. Perhaps it was a secret to most Rezzians.”

All of them, in fact.

The giant addressed her again. “I told your father that if your people continue his war, you’ll become my slave. You wouldn’t enjoy that. Not most of the time anyway. Your father will choose your fate.”

And that was unthinkable.

“He retreated with his army after he heard my message today, after the duel,” he added. “There may be hope for you.”

If Caio is still alive.

Narayani awoke confused, surrounded by darkness. She heard muffled male voices.

Light shone through the outline of a door before daylight flooded in and revealed an empty room with wooden walls, a moderately large box with no furnishings other than the dingy blankets beneath her. The air was stagnant and hot.

Heavy boots clomped and shook the wooden floor. Too many.

See the mantras
, she told herself.
Now.

The first three sacred syllables appeared in her inner vision, but large hands and long fingers squeezed her arms and forced her to stand.

“Where you take me?” she asked in Rezzian.

“To die, pig,” said an armored soldier with a large, bald head.

As the men dragged her out of the box, a structure she took for a detention cell, the landscape of the Rezzian army’s camp unfurled. Hundreds of tents sprawled in every direction, made of white cloth stretched taut and convex. Unarmed men in common Rezzian tunics wandered about, some keeping to themselves, others engaged in conversation. Most of them turned and stared, inspecting her with rough eyes set between crooked noses and bushy brows.

Hundreds more stared as she was dragged through the camp. They passed a tent with a handful of half-naked whores sitting outside of it. The women narrowed their hardened eyes and studied her.

Narayani’s heart pumped hard and fluttered. Her panting breaths made her feel lightheaded.
What are they going to do to me?

The smell of roasting meat found its way to her nose. Concentrating on Aayu’s
sadhana
was impossible while walking.

They led her farther from the common tents, past five massive ones, to a more decorated, heavy, and round tent. Dark green vines had been painted around the cream fabric that encircled the structure. They stopped in front of double wooden doors and knocked.

“My Haizzem, we have her.”

“Bring her in,” Caio said from inside the structure.

Still outside, Narayani examined how the walls met the ground. She found no loose sections. Too many stakes tied the structure down tightly.

The door opened to foreign smells carried on smoky incense, both spicy and sweet. The Haizzem sat at the edge of his bed, facing her, with an empty bed beside him. At least a score of warpriests and soldiers either sat or stood around the room. Narayani found herself shoved into the tent from behind, and all eyes swung to her.

“Please, sit down,” the Haizzem said in a smooth, easy voice. He motioned to the empty bed and coughed.

Narayani hurried over and sat facing the Haizzem. It allowed her to turn at least one side of her body away from the men.

Caio turned his body to face her. “Please tell me, what is your name?”

Should I?

“It’s all right,” he said. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

I should. My father needs to know I’m here.

“Narayani.”

“Narayani, you must be scared. My father was very angry yesterday. He may still be angry. I will not let him hurt you.”

A tenderness in Caio’s voice somehow convinced her of his sincerity. She kept all her attention on his handsome face to shut out the others’ stares. His soft skin was tan for a Rezzian, but light compared to her own people’s coloring. His nose was strong, but drawn with smooth, curved edges. Hollow dimples showed in his cheeks whenever he smiled. And despite his pain, he seemed to smile most of the time.

“Narayani, I know you can help me to heal.”

“Yes. How do you know?”

“I can feel people’s hearts. It is a gift the gods have given me.”

Does he know I’m attracted to him?

Caio smiled in a way that made Narayani feel comfortable and accepted. “You told the truth when you said you are a healer. I know this. Many of our warpriests are great healers, but they have not been able to help me yet.”

“Because Rao hit you with your power.” She moved her finger in a circle to illustrate, “He made it go back to you. I trained to heal Rezzian magic—sorry, divine power.”

Caio’s cheeks shone as he smiled and nodded. “Will you please help me to heal?”

Why would I do that?

“If I am strong, I can protect you. You can stay with me instead of wherever you were last night,” Caio said.

Narayani felt her shoulders relax.

“If you don’t help me, my father will try to take you. I don’t know what he would do.”

“Yes. I can help. Then you let me go home?”

“I hope so, yes.”

Though it made no sense, she trusted him instinctively, throughout her body and down to her toes. She’d never met a kinder man. How could this be? The leader of Rezzia’s army was either a gentle soul or he had her under a powerful spell.

No, he is a good soul. I know it.

Narayani looked at some of the other men. All of them seemed content to remain silent. They stayed back, giving Caio freedom to do whatever he wished. Many of them kept their glances downward in submissive postures.

They respect him, too. They will do whatever he says.

“In fact,” Caio said, “my father has already offered to exchange you for my sister. We await your people’s response.”

Hope bloomed in Narayani’s mind. Might this all be over soon?

“I need my bag.” She did her best to project sweetness and defenselessness.

Caio turned his head just a touch and nodded. “I must ask for the bag. I will tell my father I commanded you to give it to me.”

The soldier holding her medicines looked to all the eyes waiting to see his next move.

“Yes, my Haizzem.” He turned around and picked it up. The leather purse sat on the floor, next to the tent’s wall behind some kind of religious altar.

“Give it to her,” Caio said without any apparent pride.

The soldier followed the order and handed Narayani her medicines. He quickly walked away, as if frightened by what might be inside it.

She untied the three strips keeping the bag closed and felt the contents.

It feels full. Good. Now should I really heal him, or just relieve his pain for a time? Or wait until I find out if I am going back? The longer I am with him, the better my chances of survival.

“It’s important that I recover fully and quickly,” he said with more seriousness in his eyes. “The stronger I am, the more I can help you.”

She was beginning to feel persuaded when a voice interrupted, shouting from outside the door. “King Vieri seeks your audience, my Haizzem.”

Panic began rattling around her chest and limbs. She looked to Caio.

“Try to relax. Remember, I will protect you,” he said with his enormous brown eyes assuring her. He carefully shifted his position on the bed to face the door, as if it hurt him to move. “Please let him in.”

Narayani swallowed.

The king entered with his thick hair messy, his countenance flustered. He spoke right away, “They said no. They,” he paused, “said no.”

Caio’s head dropped in shock.

The king looked at her with contempt. “They don’t want you. Your people don’t care what we do to you. Your pretty face isn’t worth anything to them. Not even to your prince.”

It felt as if a sword cut through her heart and out her back. A deep wound opened, an old, crushing abandonment that she remembered too well.

“What in Danato’s underworld is she doing with her bag?”

Caio answered right away, “Their prince turned Mya’s power against me. None of our prayers or treatments helped. But I know she is a healer, and she knows how to remedy the damage done by Lux Lucis. She’s promised to help me.”

The king opened his mouth for a moment, staring at Caio, then slammed his mouth shut and turned his glare around the room. “None of you can help my son to heal? Your one and only Haizzem. All of you, get out of here. Now!”

The soldiers and warpriests scurried out of the tent. The solid wooden doors collided, shut from the outside.

Rao? Aayu? Not even my father? None of you believe I am worth saving?

Narayani closed her eyes to try to hide from the pain, but found no sanctuary.

She opened her eyes to find the king’s gaze focused on his son. Caio stared back, earnestly, but with no apparent positive or negative emotion.

“I have already sent a message back to the pigs,” the king said, dominating the room with his unyielding posture. “I told them that if they lay one finger on Lucia, not only will we punish this girl, you and I will defeat their army and pour over the lands of Pawelon, burning every forest, claiming every woman and child as our slaves, destroying every temple, and killing every man. If they will not surrender her, we will erase every bit of evidence that Pawelon culture ever existed.”

Caio dragged a hand through his hair and over his scalp, looking just to his father’s side.

You said you would help me, Caio.

“You won’t touch her,” he told his father. “She’s innocent. I also need her help.”

“What are you going to do to my son?” His father’s eyes quivered with accusation.

“I help him heal.”

“That’s ridiculous. Why would you do that?”

“Caio help me.”

The king shook his head and let out a long, aggravated breath.

“She is not lying, Father. She just wants to help me so she can go home.”

“Is there anything in your bag that could harm him?” the king asked. “Caio, tell me if she lies.”

“Only if he takes too much. But all these herbs are for healing.”

“She speaks the truth,” Caio said.

The bearded king walked closer to Caio, then knelt on one knee before him.

“Caio, how would you know what too much is? You must watch her every move. She caused you,” his voice became rough, “to lose. You
cannot
trust her. Do you know this?”

“I understand.”

“Do not let her evil seduce and deceive you. Have your way with her, if you want to. But do not think for a moment that she is not plotting to either kill you or escape. And never leave her in a place where she can use her magic to hide and sneak away.”

“I will watch over her and keep her here. Everything will be fine. I believe she will help me.”

“You know I am ready to assign another protector to you.”

“Please, not yet. I’m not ready. Soon, though.”

The king twisted his head, almost looking at Caio sideways. “
If
she heals you, you must join me. We will pray to the goddess Mya, to Lord Oderigo, to Lord Galleazzo, and we will find a way to overwhelm their forces and gain entry to their citadel. We will win this war and we will find Lucia. If we do not—”