Abuud: the One-Eyed God

Abuud: the One-Eyed God

Book 3 of Sword of Heavens

by

Richard S. Tuttle

Copyright © 2002 by Richard S. Tuttle.

All rights reserved.

All characters and events in this book are fictitious.
Any resemblance to persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

With the Sapphire of the Fairies and the Unicorns’ Opal restored to the Sword of Heavens, the Collapse Children are off to search for the Diamond of Edona. Fredrik and Niki have left the group and decided to stay in Tagaret. Arik, Tedi, and the mysterious Tanya are still accompanied by Alex and Jenneva, but the Heir to the Alcean throne has finally accepted his place in the struggle to defeat Sarac.

Abuud: the One-Eyed God
begins at the Rock of Ages where Unicorns’ Opal ended.

Wylan stood on the rampart watching the long column of pilgrims approach the southern gate of Southland. He focused on the cart hauling the huge statue. The statue had one arm aloft holding a sword. The other arm was slightly cocked behind the statue so that the hand holding a skull was alongside the statue's waist. The figure had only one eye perched above its nose, and the eye sparkled brilliantly as the flames from the torches on the cart reflected in the prism. Directly behind the cart carrying the statue was a large wagon with a wooden hut built upon it. Crude symbols were painted on the exterior of the hut, and Wylan strained his eyes in an attempt to decipher them, but they were symbols that he had never seen before.

Wylan moved his eyes along the column that stretched out of sight. The group of pilgrims was diverse. Many were dressed in rags, but some of the travelers were so finely dressed that they could pass as nobility. Some had horses, but most walked with packs on their backs. He shook his head as he wondered where the thousands of pilgrims would find a place to sleep in Southland. He returned his focus to the front of the approaching group and saw a tall dark man in a flowing crimson robe. A crimson turban adorned the man's head and his black beard flowed down the front of his robe. A dozen uniformed men flanked the man. The gray and red uniforms were unfamiliar to Wylan. He eased his way towards the gate so that he could overhear the conversation when the group reached the entrance to the city.

When Wylan reached the gate he was surprised to see Baron Timor standing there. The Baron seldom left his mansion and Wylan could never recall seeing him at the gate to greet visitors before. Wylan was looking for a spot where a young guard could listen without being noticed when the Baron called to him.

"Close one of the gates before they start swarming in here," ordered the Baron.

Wylan nodded and closed the left gate. When he turned around he saw that several dozen of the Baron's men had gathered around the leader of Southland.

"Do not close the gates," commanded a strong voice with a southern Sordoan accent. "My wagons will need them both open to pass through."

"Your wagons will have no need to pass through the gates," retorted the Baron as the man in the crimson robe stopped in front of the Baron. "Our city does not have facilities for so many travelers. Camp outside and be on your way in the morning."

"Be on our way?" echoed the pilgrim. "I think not. I am the prophet Azmet and Southland is my destination. Our god, Abuud, has called upon me to spread his message of peace. It is his voice that I obey, and he has instructed me to bring peace to Southland. Open the gates."

"Southland has peace now," responded Baron Timor. "If your cause was to bring peace here, then your mission is complete and you may leave."

"Abuud will determine if peace truly resides here," retorted Azmet. "For a city at peace you certainly have a confrontational greeting. My people are hungry and tired. Open your peaceful city to them and welcome them as your brothers. Surely this will show Abuud that peace resides in Southland."

"I have heard of the welcome you were extended at Khartek," snarled the Baron. "You attempted to seize control of the city and impose a rigid set of laws that were demeaning to the people. Your punishments maimed citizens whose offenses were minor. You executed those who spoke out against you and your god. The people of Southland do not believe in your god. Be gone if you want peace. This city will not welcome you."

"Then Southland will know the wrath of Abuud," spat the prophet. "Abuud told me that this pagan city would resist his message of peace. He foretold of the death and destruction that will run through your streets after I leave. For every ten men, women, and children of Southland, only two will survive to see the next phase of the moon. The god, Abuud, is not to be trifled with. He will bring peace to your people, one way or another. I will send some men in to get provisions and we shall leave in the morning for Cleb."

"You will send only one man in for supplies," insisted the Baron. "I will not fall for any treachery from the likes of you. One man and he will be watched closely."

"One saint in a city of infidels," scowled Azmet as he turned and left. "Peace be with you."

"Guard," called the Baron after Azmet had left.

Wylan looked around and saw the Baron staring at him. He stepped forward. "Yes, Sir?"

"I want you to watch that caravan all night," ordered the Baron. "Get yourself up on the rampart and watch them. Do not sleep. Do not leave your post for any reason. I do not trust this Azmet. If more than one man comes this way you are to sound an alarm. They will be met with steel and shaft if they try to gain entrance to this city."

Wylan nodded and raced up to the rampart. He watched as Azmet and his bodyguards returned to the rest of the pilgrims, who were spreading out and setting up camp. Azmet was clearly angry. Wylan could see it in the man's motions as the prophet started yelling and gesturing wildly. The prophet walked over to the cart with the large statue on it and leaped onto it. He fell to his knees and bowed before the statue of the one-eyed god. While thousands of pilgrims continued to pour into the field outside Southland, the prophet remained motionless on the cart before the statue of Abuud.

An hour passed before the end of the column finally appeared and settled into the makeshift camp. Azmet had not moved and no man was sent towards the city. Finally, Azmet rose and called out to the people. Wylan could not hear the man's speech, but it was obvious from the reaction of the listeners that the prophet was telling them about the confrontation with the Baron. Azmet pointed towards the statue several times and then waved his hand across the multitude of people surrounding the cart. Suddenly, a young man leaped upon the cart and knelt before Azmet. The crowd erupted in cheers as Azmet laid his hand upon the young man's head. A young woman approached the cart and handed a red scarf to the prophet. The prophet removed the rag that had covered the young man's head and ceremoniously tied the red scarf in its place. He extended his hand to the young man and led him to the base of the statue of Abuud. Together they knelt in front of the statue of the one-eyed god and bowed their heads.

After a few minutes, the young man rose and removed his sword. He leaped off of the wagon and approached the young woman who had given the red scarf to Azmet. He bowed slightly to her. Next to the young woman was an older man. The young man turned towards this older man. He raised his sword in front of his face and kissed it. Then he handed the sword to the older man. Azmet rose from before the statue and signaled to his bodyguards. Two of the bodyguards approached the young man and escorted him to the wagon with the hut built upon it. The young man climbed onto the wagon and stood before the door to the hut. With one last look at the crowd of worshippers, the young man opened the door to the hut and disappeared inside. The entire crowd of pilgrims bowed their heads and murmured something in unison. As soon as the recitation was complete, the crowd swiftly dispersed.

As the sky began to darken, the area around the wagon was deserted. The door to the hut opened and the young man with the red scarf stepped out and quickly closed the door. Without a word to anyone, he leaped off the wagon and ran towards the city gate. Wylan watched as the guards admitted the young man, and then returned his attentions to the encampment outside the walls. The pilgrims appeared to settle in and prepare meals for the hungry. One by one the campfires burned out as the night sky darkened. Wylan fought off his feelings of sleep, and twice someone brought him food and drink.

At first he thought his tired eyes were playing tricks on him, but soon he was sure of the movements. Although it was hours before the first lightening of the sky, the pilgrims were breaking camp. Thousands of bodies moved in the dark night air. Wylan feared they were planning on attacking the city under cover of darkness, but he watched as the prophet and his bodyguards headed away from the city. The cart with the statue, and the wagon with the hut, followed him. Soon all of the pilgrims were forming a line to leave the camp. Wylan watched them leave to make sure it was not a feint. Only after they had left did it occur to him that the pilgrim who was supposed to be getting supplies had never returned to the camp. With his task complete, Wylan did not bother to return to his bed to sleep. He was so tired that he just sprawled on the floor of the platform and closed his eyes.

***

Charl tied his horse to a tree and crawled to the crest of the small hill. He cocked his head slightly as he heard the noise again. He scanned the small valley looking for the source of the noise. He was glad that he had taken the extra precaution of checking out the valley before riding into it. His eyes locked on bushes below him that had just moved, but he could not see what had caused the disturbance.  Subconsciously, Charl withdrew several arrows from his quiver as he lay silently at the crest of the small hill. His eyes scanned the valley again as he waited for his brother Damon to arrive.

The bushes moved again, and Charl's eyes widened as he caught sight of the goblin. Silently he eased one of the arrows onto the drawstring of his bow without taking his eyes off of the goblin. The sound of a distant horse drifted across the valley, and Charl heard some guttural grunts from below him. He watched as two more goblins appeared from the bushes. Charl saw the carcass of a deer as the three goblins silently wiped their hands on their clothes and grabbed their bows. Charl was sure that the goblins had heard the approaching horse, and he was also certain that the horse carried his brother. They had chosen this remote valley to meet in after their scouting expedition, and it was the correct time to meet.

Charl scanned the valley again in an attempt to determine if there were only three goblins. Satisfied that he had located the only danger, Charl was ready when Damon appeared on the trail. Before Damon got within the range of the goblins' bows, Charl shot an arrow into one of the goblins and swiftly grabbed another arrow. The wounded goblin cried out and the other two turned to look up the hill. Charl sent the next arrow flying into another goblin as his eyes caught the movement of Damon. Damon jumped off his horse and crouched behind it as he assessed the situation.

The third goblin shot an arrow at Charl, but the effort was wasted with haste. Charl calmly sent his third arrow downhill and ended the fight. He stood up and waved to his brother. Damon led his horse up the hill while Charl scanned the valley one last time.

"Sure glad you were here," greeted Damon. "I would have walked right into that one. The other goblins that I have seen were making no effort to conceal themselves or be quiet."

"I was lucky," frowned Charl. "These three were having a meal that they did not wish to share with the others. I don't want to test my luck anymore either. I think we need to get back to Tice and report in. There can no longer be any doubt that the goblins are headed for the garrison."

"I agree," nodded Damon. "The forest is crawling with goblins. It appears that Tork was right. We don't need any more patrols to tells us that we are going to be in for a beating when they attack the city."