The Thunder King (Bell Mountain) (11 page)

“Greetings, First Prester,” he said. “I bring you Mardar Kyo, emissary of the Thunder King.”

The second man took off his cloak and hood. Gallgoid had provided him with ordinary Obannese clothes, but this man could never have walked the streets of the city without turning heads. Short, squat, and powerful, with the shoulders of a wrestler, his head was shaved clean except for a strip of bristly white hair down the middle of his scalp. He wore copper plugs in his earlobes, which had caused them to stretch nearly to his shoulders, and his eyes were like hard coals.

“Welcome, Mardar Kyo,” said Reesh. “This is Prester Orth, who will be First Prester after me.”

The mardar bowed stiffly from the waist. “I give you the greetings of my master, the Thunder King, lord of all the world.” Kyo spoke Obannese, but in a fashion that sounded like the speech of an enchanted reptile, or so Orth thought. “I congratulate you on your servant.” He nodded at Gallgoid. “He blindfolded me, as agreed, and led me by a devious route, all without offering the least discourtesy.”

“I am an old man, Mardar Kyo, and not strong,” Reesh said. “Let’s proceed at once to the object of our negotiations.”

“Certainly. I am here to discuss with you the surrender of your city, and the terms.”

Orth shuddered. Should word of this unauthorized transaction ever reach the ears of any of the ruling oligarchs, he would be hanged just for being in this room. How they would punish the First Prester didn’t matter.

“On your part,” said Kyo, “you will open the city to our troops at a time and place agreed upon; and you will make submission and obeisance to my master, the lord of all the world. This Temple, and all the treasure in it, you will surrender to my master—including the image of your god, which will be transported to his castle at Kara Karram.”

Reesh cleared his throat. “Mardar, we have no images of God,” he said. “It is against our law to fashion any images of Him, or to worship before any object made by human hands or any natural object. This is one of our most ancient laws, and we observe it strictly.”

“Hmm! I’ve heard something of this,” the mardar said. “And it’s true that when we took your city of Cardigal, we found no image of your god. Of course, we presumed you kept it here in this Temple. How do you worship a god you cannot see?”

“We have done so for thousands of years,” Reesh said.

Kyo pondered that. “When we burned the temple that you had in Cardigal,” he said, “the priest refused to come out. He and all his assistants remained inside, singing sacred songs until it was all consumed by fire. It was like nothing I have ever seen before. And yet you will surrender to us this great Temple!”

“On the condition that the Temple survives!” Reesh said. “And that the servants of God continue to serve the Temple and carry on all our business as before—but under your master’s overlordship. In return, we’ll pay him reasonable tribute.

“Your master cannot but gain by this, Mardar Kyo. Unless we open the gates of Obann to you, you’ll find our defenses formidable indeed. The entire populace has been organized into fire-fighting teams. We have an inexhaustible supply of water and provisions to withstand a very long siege. Our soldiers are better equipped than yours and better trained; and they will have the advantage of fighting on their own ground for their lives.

“Besides which, even if you take the city by force, what would it profit you to take a burned-out heap? If your fires fail to destroy Obann, our leaders are themselves prepared to destroy the city utterly and perish in the ruins, rather than let you have it. Would you not rather have Obann whole, as a great jewel in your master’s crown, than as a worthless desolation?”

Reesh knew it was the barbarians’ dream to sack the city, take its people into slavery, and become rich and famous for it. He knew little of the Thunder King; he didn’t even know the man’s true name. But he supposed that the Great Man desired nothing so much as to feed his greatness and that the surrender of Obann would be a powerful temptation to him.

“You may extract all the wealth that you desire from the city,” Reesh went on, “but you must guarantee the survival of the Temple. It’s in your master’s interest. Surely you can see that.”

“I will surely consult with my master, the lord of all the world,” Kyo said. “You must understand that I had not expected this. It will take some time to decide. Meanwhile, the fighting will commence. It would be a grave error for us to try to hold back our troops, once they see the city.”

“As to fighting, the city is prepared,” said Reesh. “By all means, consult your master. I am sure he’ll see the merits of our proposal. The city intact will be worth much more to him than the city in ruins.”

“Yes, of course,” Kyo said. “But all the other peoples conquered by my master have surrendered their gods to him. How will you surrender yours?”

Reesh took a long time to frame his answer. The question raised up issues he had debated with himself all his life. He chose his words with care.

“Mardar Kyo, this may be difficult for you to understand; but our God has no substance in this world, even though we believe this world has its substance in Him. We cannot surrender Him to you because we have no handle on Him.

“No man has ever seen Him. He is invisible. He is nowhere, and yet He is everywhere.

“But for practical purposes, mind you, in terms of the realities of this world, the God of Obann is the Temple. This Temple is the only approach to Him that the people have. So if we surrender the Temple to your master, and acknowledge his ownership by paying tribute to him, we will have gone as far as it is possible to go toward surrendering our God to him. If he owns the Temple of Obann, he owns the God of Obann. But if he destroys the Temple, then he will have let God slip through his fingers.”

It was all Prester Orth could do not to cry out. What blasphemy was this! And yet it was nothing more than many high clerics in the Temple believed. He supposed he believed it himself.

Kyo bowed, this time with both hands folded on his breast.

“I understand your position,” he said. “I will let you know when we have an agreement.”

They parted with suitable amenities, and Gallgoid led the mardar out of the chamber. Lord Reesh collapsed, panting, onto the only chair in the room.

“You’ll have to help me to my bed, Orth,” he said. “This business has stolen away all my strength.”

“Of course, Excellency.” But first Orth would have to pull himself together. His legs threatened to buckle under him. He leaned against the nearest wall. “First Prester, did you mean what you said about the Temple being God? If the people should ever hear of it …” He couldn’t finish the sentence; the thought was too terrible to put into words.

Reesh sighed. “When you’re an old man, Orth, and have served the Temple for as long as I have, you’ll find that the faith that drew you to her in the first place has long since ebbed away, and you didn’t even know it.

“What is God? Does He even exist? It’s been a long time since I knew the answers to those questions. But the Temple exists. The Temple must live on, even if all the rest of Obann perishes. Obann without the Temple isn’t Obann.

“If this Thunder King is half the man I take him for, he’ll be shrewd enough to realize that if he destroys the Temple, he won’t destroy God. No—all he’ll do is turn God loose among the people, not bound to this Temple anymore. Not bound to us, not bound to our interpretation of the Scriptures. God will be free. The people will be free to make of Him anything they please.

“Whether God exists or not, He has been God in this land since time began. If He is cut loose from the Temple, there’s no telling what form He’ll take. If you think we have a plethora of prophets now, that’s nothing. Imagine what we’d have without the Temple to control it.”

He leaned back in the chair and gasped. His face went pale. Orth helped him out of the chair and spent all his strength getting him back to his bed. There Reesh fell into a fitful sleep before he could be undressed and changed into his silken sleeping robe.

“We are all surely damned, First Prester,” Orth said, although Lord Reesh couldn’t hear him. “Even so, it’s better than being burnt alive in the ruins of the Temple.”

He could not pray that night, nor any other night for a very long time afterward.

Cavall was a big dog, bigger than Ryons himself. Big and brown, with curly hair, massive jaws, and big feet, he looked perfectly capable of taking down a bear and devouring a horse. He came home in time for supper, which for him was a bowlful of mush—the same supper Mary served herself and her guest. A well-brought-up person would not have eaten it, but Ryons did.

“Eat up; it’ll give you strength,” Mary said. “It’s mostly venison, with a bit of possum to give it flavor. The hunters ’round here like me to make it for them, especially in the winter.”

After their meal, the old woman made a clucking noise and the dog came and sat in front of her.

“Now listen, Cavall.” She spoke to it as if it were another human being. “This is Ryons, the boy from the dream. You remember me telling you about it. Tomorrow you must go with him and lead him out of the forest so he can get to Obann. Your job will be to guard him. Stick with him, and don’t let him come to any harm.” She put her hands on the dog’s large head. “Don’t scruff it up—you hear?”

Ryons could have sworn the dog nodded.

“You can set out first thing tomorrow morning, Your Kingship. I’ll give you some bread to carry along, and Cavall will hunt for you until you get the hang of it. I see you didn’t think to bring any weapons. That was foolish! I can let you have a knife, but I wish you had a bow and arrows.

“You sleep with Cavall tonight. Sorry, but I’m too old to sleep on the floor, so you can’t have my bed. Anyhow, you might as well get used to sleeping with him. You’ll be thankful to have him around, before long.”

Night came quickly in the forest, and the old woman went early to bed. She snored. The huge dog curled up in another corner and made no protest when Ryons, after putting it off for a while, lay down with him. Ryons hadn’t much experience with dogs, except as ferocious scavengers lurking around Wallekki camps. Those a fellow had to keep clear of.

He lay listening to the noises of the forest, much more pleasing now that he was in a cabin with a thatch roof over his head. Any number of creatures rustled around in the thatch—mostly mice, he supposed.

Before he knew it, Merry Mary was prodding him with her cane, telling him to get up. The dog was already up and stretching, and a grey light of dawn was in the room.

“Don’t make me bend over, Little King. I won’t be able to straighten up again!” She laughed at her own remark. “Get up and have your breakfast, and then away with you.”

She fed him boiled eggs and bread with wild honey. Cavall went to a corner to sniff noisily at an old broom. A black snake crawled out from behind it and flicked its tongue at the dog. Cavall backed off, and the snake crawled back behind the broom.

“There’s a snake in here!” Ryons said. The Wallekki were afraid of snakes, and so was he.

“Of course there is. He lives here,” Mary said. “I’d be overrun with rodents if he didn’t. Eat up, boy, you’ve got a long way to travel.”

When he was ready to go, she gave him a rusty old knife to tuck in his belt and kissed him on both cheeks.

“Who would’ve ever thought I was born to kiss a king!” she cackled gleefully. “Now be off with you, young man—away to Obann.”

Stepping out into the pale light of the early morning, Ryons paused for one more question.

“But what am I supposed to do there, if I ever get to Obann?” he cried. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do!”

The old crone tittered, shrugged her shoulders. “Neither do I!” she said. “I suppose you’ll find out when you get there. Go with God!”

Escorted by the enormous dog, Ryons found a path and followed it into the forest.

Ryons hoped someday to see Obann; but that morning, the leading battalions of the Heathen looked on it.

Some of those men were city-born and bred, and many of them had visited cities in the East. But this was Obann: it was not like any city known to them.

The builders of Obann had for centuries labored on their city’s walls and gates, always making them higher, thicker, stronger. Men in the Heathen host who’d worked hard to make ladders for the troops to scale the walls immediately saw that the ladders were much too short, and all their work was wasted. Men who’d hauled and wrestled siege towers for miles and miles at once saw that the towers weren’t tall enough.

These were Obann’s walls. A thousand years of civil wars and barbarian invasions had made them high and strong. Old Obann lay in ruins across the river, but this was Obann City that had never been conquered, never entered by an enemy in force. And as the sun rose higher in the sky, revealing more of the city, the Heathen saw there were strange engines of war mounted over every gate, and helmets and spearpoints gleaming at every point along the ramparts.

Troop by troop, army by army, the Heathen horde arrived at Obann and took up their positions. The great walls looked down on them. There was a man among the Wallekki who said the city was like a big toad making ready to lap up the foolish ants that came within its reach. A mardar heard him and drove a spear through his back. That stopped that kind of talk.