The Godspeaker Trilogy (20 page)

“Given to me,” said Raklion, as Nagarak drew scorching breath. “Before the altar in my own godhouse. What mischief is this, Nogolor? Do you seek to overturn the god’s desire?”

Nogolor’s lips thinned. “I sit beneath the god’s desire, Raklion, the god sees me sit beneath it in its eye. My high godspeaker tells me the god’s want and I obey, the god is god and it speaks to me with its high godspeaker’s tongue.”

So Grakilon was the one whispering poison. Raklion looked deep in the old man’s burning eyes. Beware the high godspeakers , his father told him on his deathbed. They are not like other men. They eat and sleep and breathe the god, but they are not immune to human corruption. High godspeakers can be demonstruck. They can be seduced by promises of power .

Raklion had believed him. All words spoken at the portal of death were true. To lie at the portal was to freeze in hell until the sun burned to ash. Looking at Grakilon he saw a man seduced. By demons, or Bajadek, it made no difference. He had set himself against the god’s desire.

He looked again at Nogolor. “To sit in the god’s eye is to heed the words of your high godspeaker. It is a sin not to listen when he speaks.”

Nogolor nodded, his eyes were relieved. “So we are taught. Raklion.”

“It is a greater sin to speak with your own tongue and claim your words belong to the god!” said Nagarak. He was rigid with rage, his knuckles white upon his brown horse’s reins. “The god does not accept sacrifice on its altar or witness the giving and taking of oaths, then claim those oaths were not given and taken and no sacrifice was made! You sinning Grakilon, you false speaker for the god!”

Nogolor’s warriors heard Nagarak’s angry words. Nogolor held up his fisted hand and their muttering silenced. He said, “If this is the god’s business, no warlord may interfere. Is this the god’s business, Raklion?”

Raklion stared at his stallion’s striped and spiky mane. Bajadek’s name had not been mentioned. Until it was spoken, that meddling warlord had no place in this. To name him now would be to muddy waters already swirled with silt.

Nogolor will not live so many more seasons. Then his son Tebek will be warlord, with troubles like crows upon a carcass. If I speak of Bajadek when Nogolor seeks to put right what is wrong I risk the treaty, I will lose the Daughter. I cannot lose her, I must sire a son.

He lifted his gaze to Nogolor’s strained face. “Et-Nogolor’s Daughter is in my eye, she sits in my heart, my loins burn to possess her. Nagarak tells me the god desires that she bleed in my bed and give me a son. I am a man, I cannot know the god but through the words of my high godspeaker. I am bound by the god to heed his words.”

The shadows in Nogolor’s eyes shifted. “So you are bound, and I am bound, we both are bound to obey the god and its high godspeakers. This is the god’s business, Raklion warlord. It is for the god to deliver the Daughter where it desires.”

“And if that place is in my bed?” he asked. “If the oaths we swore in Et-Raklion’s godhouse are proven?”

“Then you will leave here with my girl-child. She will bleed in your bed and give you a son.”

Raklion nodded. “And if that is not the god’s desire, I will take my warriors and return to Et-Raklion, our treaty unbroken, our brotherhood intact.”

They nudged their horses forward until they stood beside each other, knee brushing knee, then withdrew their sharp knives from their belts and held out their palms. Raklion sliced his blade through Nogolor’s flesh as Nogolor did the same to him. The pain was clean, and cruel. Blood welled and dripped, spattering the horses’ glossy hides. Their curved ears flattened, they tossed their heads. Raklion twined his fingers with Nogolor’s, mingling their blood to seal their swearing. When the blood was fully mingled they untwined their fingers and backed away.

Nagarak said, “I have brought with me three hundred scorpions from Et-Raklion’s godhouse. Grakilon, you will fetch three hundred of your own. We will dig a pit for them before Et-Nogolor’s gates. Naked in the god’s eye we will swim with the scorpions and the god will choose who speaks the truth.”

Grakilon hissed. “Who are you, godspeaker of Et-Raklion, to demand this or that from me? I am high godspeaker of Et-Nogolor, I do not bow down before your demands. I am the servant of Nogolor warlord, I answer to him, not you or Raklion!”

Nogolor swung his horse about to look at him. “My servant, Grakilon? The god’s servant only, you are its high godspeaker. I am nothing, a puny man. You stood before me in the godhouse, Grakilon, you swore you spoke the god’s true words, that I must break my godpromise to Raklion and give my girl-child to Bajadek warlord. That, you said, was the god’s desire. Is it so, or did you lie?”

Grakilon’s eyes widened with shock. “Warlord, you can ask me that?”

“I can ask you, Grakilon. If you speak the truth there is nothing to fear. The god will smite Nagarak and see you in its eye.”

Nagarak’s burning gaze was fixed to Grakilon’s hollowed face. “Send for your godspeakers and your scorpions, Grakilon. This matter must be proved by the god with no more delay.”

“Nogolor warlord!” Grakilon kicked his horse forward. “Why do you support this? How do you stay silent? Did I come to you and say the god’s desire was changed? You know I did not. You came to me, you were troubled in your heart, you wondered aloud before the altar: did the god truly intend Et-Nogolor’s Daughter for Raklion warlord’s blunted spear? Bajadek warlord sent you messengers, you came to me in the godhouse after they departed.”

And Grakilon told Nogolor the words he desired to hear. Grakilon obeyed the wants of his warlord, not the desires of his god. His twisted plan was Nogolor’s twisted plan, and Bajadek’s, they were tangled in lies together. Raklion kept his face still, he showed no outward thought or feeling, but in his breast the fury raged.

You sinning man, Nogolor. This web of lies, this snare of deceit. The god will smite you in its eye for this.

Nogolor wore jet and silver amulets in long loops from his ears. They trembled, as he trembled, Grakilon’s harsh words striking him like stones. Here was the break between them, here the ground gaped wide at their feet. Would Nogolor extend a hand to his high godspeaker, or push doomed Grakilon into the chasm?

Nogolor said, “A man may stand before the altar and ask a question. There is no sin in that. You told me the god’s desire, how could I think you spoke false? Men must obey the god’s godspeakers. Raklion warlord himself has said it: we must listen and obey. If you had told me the god’s desire remained unchanged, Grakilon, Et-Nogolor’s Daughter even now would be impaled upon Raklion’s sharp spear.”

Grakilon said nothing. He was thrust into the chasm, his bones were broken kindling. Raklion felt a rough pity. It would be far kinder to thrust a knife through the high godspeaker’s heart than put him into the scorpion pit. The god would see him for a liar, it would sting him to a screaming death. But it was too late for mercy, his lies must be proven before the warriors of Et-Nogolor, who believed their warlord was in the right to overthrow his godpromised word.

“You and your godspeakers dig the pit, Nagarak,” said Raklion. “Side by side with the godspeakers of Et-Nogolor and their high godspeaker Grakilon. I will wait with my warriors. Nogolor warlord will wait with his. The god’s true words will be shown to all, and that will be an end to this matter.”

He wheeled his horse and rode towards his waiting warriors. Nagarak rode beside him. When they halted, Nagarak said, “Warlord. Your hand.”

Raklion held out his knife-cut hand, and Nagarak healed it with a godstone he took from the pouch on his belt.

“This is the god’s business now,” said Nagarak, putting the godstone away. “It will smite Grakilon. It might in some time smite Nogolor too, he was a fool to be corrupted.”

“And Bajadek?” said Raklion softly, so none of his warriors could hear. “Will the god smite Bajadek also?”

Nagarak smoothed his godbraids with fingers as calm as the sky. “That is warlord business.”

He withdrew to gather his godspeakers around him. Raklion motioned to Hanochek, silently waiting, and they rode a small distance from the godspeakers and the warriors, that they might talk in private.

“Warlord?” said Hanochek. “Is it war?”

He shook his head. “Not between Et-Raklion and Et-Nogolor. Not this highsun. Bajadek tried to beguile Nogolor into taking the Daughter away from me, and giving her to him. Nogolor was tempted, or afraid to refuse, he went to Grakilon to ask if the god still intended the Daughter for me. Grakilon is no fool, he heard the question that was not asked. He told Nogolor what he wanted to hear, for reasons I do not know, that do not matter. Now Nogolor puts distance between them and says he acted on the word of his high godspeaker. He has no intention of being blamed for Grakilon’s sin.”

Hano pulled a face. “You will let this stand?”

“I must,” he said, shrugging. “I must have Et-Nogolor’s Daughter. There are shadows in the warlord’s eyes, I smell his fear like rank perfume. Bajadek is a vital man, his warriors are not known for mercy. Bajadek may have threatened him.”

“And risked smiting by the god?”

“The god does not always smite, Hano. Warlords have broken their word before now and the god has left them unsmitten. Why that must be I do not know. The god is a mystery, I do not seek to understand it. I am not a high godspeaker.”

“Bajadek warlord is the cause of this trouble,” said Hano, taut with anger. “He wants a woman of warlord bloodlines and thinks there is gain for him in discord between Et-Raklion and Et-Nogolor.”

“I know this,” said Raklion, watching Nagarak and Grakilon, stiffly silent, seek the exact site for the scorpion pit. “At least, he is part the cause.” And I am the rest. This is my doing, I must somehow undo it .

Hano punched his thigh, he read his warlord too easily. “Raklion, you are wrong. None of this is your doing. The god sees you in its eye, it knows you are not a sinful man. You are dogged by demons jealous of your greatness. They kill your women, they kill your sons, you are the battlefield between the god and the dark ones. Would they choose a man unseen by the god in its eye for such a battle? No. To wound you is to wound the god.”

Raklion stared at him, surprised. “I thought you were my warleader, Hano, not my godspeaker.”

“I am your warleader and your friend,” said Hano fiercely. “You are father and brother and warlord to me. This time the demons will not win, Raklion. If I must with my own hands sacrifice one thousand bull-calves and throw my last gold coin in the barracks godbowl, Et-Nogolor’s Daughter will bear you a son. Then will I sire sons, so they may serve him as I serve you.”

Raklion was not a man of tears, but for a moment his tongue could find no words. “Brother Hano,” he said at last, “that is an oath I will hold you to. My son could not be better served if the god itself became a man and pledged its body to him.”

“When this is over,” said Hano, his voice rough with feeling, “do we punish this faithless warlord of Et-Nogolor?”

Raklion shook his head. “Let the god smite him if smiting is required. I do not wish our treaty broken, Hano. It is useful, it serves us well.”

“Then do we ride upon Et-Bajadek with ten thousand angry warriors? Do we smite its scheming warlord for daring to trespass on the treaty between Et-Raklion and Et-Nogolor? For trying to steal Et-Nogolor’s Daughter, promised to Raklion warlord before the god?”

Do we ride ? Raklion frowned at his fingers, clasped upon the reins. It could rightly be said that stealing another warlord’s godpromised wife was an act of war. Seducing another warlord into betraying his godsworn treaty was an act of war also. Bajadek had done these things. In secret, yes, but now the secret was discovered. These acts of war, could he close his eyes, turn his shoulder to them?”

No. I cannot. Bajadek is defeated here, he will try again when he thinks himself safe. Mijak’s browning will be his excuse. He will rouse the other warlords to envy, he will promise them a share of Et-Raklion’s spoils. If I do not smite him . . .

Hano said, “A wise man might see this thwarting of his desires as a fortunate escape, he might see it as a warning from the god. Bajadek is not wise. What he wants, he takes. Raklion, if you do not smite him . . .”

He smiled at Hano. “As ever we share a single thought. When the Daughter is planted with my son I will teach unwise Bajadek his lesson.”

“And if he rides against us before she is planted?”

“Then we will meet him in battle,” he said. “But I think he will not. Bajadek is a coward at heart, he skulks in the shadows and seeks to gain his desires with stealth. When he learns the Daughter is in my bed he will lie low, he will hide his teeth. Let him skulk, and think I have no heart for fighting. I will smite him, in my time.”

Once the scorpion pit was dug, Nagarak and Grakilon each sacrificed a white lamb and drank the steaming scarlet blood. Then they stripped themselves naked and climbed into the pit. The witnessing godspeakers tipped the scorpions over them, three hundred from Et-Raklion godhouse, three hundred from the godhouse of Et-Nogolor. Larger than a man’s hand, they were bred for venom and for spite.

Raklion felt his throat scald with bile. He feared little in the world, he was a warlord, but he feared the godhouse scorpions. He stared into the pit where the scorpions scuttled and swarmed and seethed around and over the seated bodies of the two high godspeakers. The men’s eyes were closed, they breathed unflinching as the scorpions crawled up their godbraids, crawled over their faces, dropped from their shoulders into their laps and sought out the softness of their unguarded genitals.

The scorpions raised their barbed tails and stung the god’s high godspeakers, stung them everywhere upon their flesh. Great scarlet welts bloomed in the wake of those stings, like tended gardens the godspeakers’ naked bodies grew blossoms of venom.

Grakilon began foaming at the mouth.

Watching on either side of Nogolor warlord, the godspeakers of Et-Nogolor cried out in terror and despair. Still foaming, Grakilon began to convulse, he thrashed and flailed, unseen in the god’s eye, smitten for his lies. He vomited blood, he vomited his entrails, he emptied himself from the inside out.