CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
Strame/Helt and Clariane were soon claimed by clamouring refugees anxious to have safe haven, somewhere. The Cynases took renewed control but before they did Jepaul asked to see each Cynas in turn. His request was simple.
“I know you may not wish to do this,” Jepaul began, his eyes on Barok’s watchful face, “but you must believe it is necessary or I’d not request it.”
“Dom.”
“I ask that you submit yourself to the service of the Maquat Doms, Cynas.”
Barok went pale. This was quite unexpected.
“I won’t betray you, Dom.”
“No,” answered Jepaul gently, “I know you wouldn’t willingly do so, but in the heat of battle and under cruel circumstances that are about to come, one may unwittingly do so. That’s how life can be and is no aspersion on either your character or integrity. You’ve recently shown both.” He paused, then added kindly, “By taking the vow of submission to the Doms it makes it quite impossible for you to be manipulated or abused because it creates an impenetrable barrier round you none other than an anti-spirit lord can touch. In that way it actually affords you a unique form of protection.”
“Submission means what it says?”
“It does.”
Jepaul saw Barok’s face and his voice gentled even more.
“You take a part of me.”
“We do, yes.”
Barok swallowed, very hard.
“Dom, I -.” He paused and hesitated. Then bravely, and now quite white, he whispered, “I have so much to regret, Dom, so much, but I hope, by doing this, those like you may know me for who I truly am.”
“We will, Cynas. Come.” Jepaul offered a hand to Barok as he added quietly, “Barok, you and the other Cynases will feel a complete relief of gnawing guilt and regret that gives you no real sense of peace. By offering you this, we Doms also give you the opportunity to expiate any lingering sense that can negatively affect your clarity of thought and decision-making. It will cleanse all that.”
“A form of absolution, Jepaul?”
“Sort of,” agreed Jepaul on a smile. “A quiet conscience is truly a gift.”
Barok emerged from the act uncertain how he felt but almost, at the end, with a feeling of relief as if a burden long carried was eased. The experience wasn’t painful nor especially unpleasant. But though he was left with a distinct feeling of emptiness in a part of him, his mind was remarkably clear and he felt untroubled and able to concentrate on what he had to do, whether he survived or not. That no longer seemed relevant. He just had to hope that if he died in battle, Dariah and their son could rebuild a world in which he wondered, idly, he’d even have a place. He was surprisingly philosophical. Adon acquiesced, but Rule didn’t even hesitate; his submission was offered immediately.
This new, heightened understanding of the Cynases that would make them leaders of men again, for however long was granted them, was a relief. Some cities were currently safe havens, metalans were destroyed and the existence of the Doms was still unknown to the Red Councils. The Doms were satisfied. Through Jepaul’s contact with the Nedru, the Doms knew it would be soon that the Red Councils would call on those who’d lain dormant on Shalah for aeons. They were minions of Sh’Bane and had always answered to the Nedru. Those creatures certainly troubled the Doms.
So far the Nedru had contented themselves with the control and manipulation of city-states. That was changing as shown by the deliberate destruction of Shalah on a physical level. These activities, the Doms knew, would rouse others from the past. Also, once the Nedru touched the Riders, they’d learn the Maquat Doms were very much alive and that Jepaul was with them. Revelation had to come soon. It would be then the Nedru would turn the full force of their fury on all associated with Jepaul. All the Doms knew was that none of those on Shalah who answered to Sh’Bane were as yet co-ordinated, though all sensed the restless expectation, especially the Grohols. They sensed the wraith changers too.
Cefor forays were now everywhere. People had to be extremely wary outside city-states, even beyond city walls, as attacks became more daring daily. And it was known that Maekwies, though still north in Shalah, were seen more often, though not distinctly, more as shadows. The ground now regularly shook with the accelerated rumblings of the Huyuks. The Cilikas of the oceans and waterways of Shalah reappeared, again nebulously, but it was enough to make Sapphire shake his head and compress his lips. His eyes were like steel.
The Companions also began to sense a very real change about the Doms they were linked with, their mutual sensations much sharper. Saracen felt cold and dryness. Knellen felt warmth and moistness. Belika felt heat and dryness, and Javen sensed cold and wetness. Cadran became acutely aware of the aethyr. As Masters themselves, they became increasingly conscious of other things too. For Belika it was a new feeling of sharpness yet subtlety of all things about her and she became more mobile in Companion combinations as Elementals. Knellen, as air, felt a blunter subtlety but also the mobility as did Javen. But Knellen also sensed new density about him which also affected Saracen. Saracen felt not just density but a new immobility that kept him as the more grounded one in the unions He became more serious. And Cadran just felt all things more acutely, with increased flexibility in all ways.
Wrandal was abandoned because the Doms believed any attempt to manipulate another Red Council would be unwise – there was already hostility and suspicion from those gathered at Rhume. Everyone knew that three city-states were in the throes of total destruction, so it was assumed the Red Councils would next descend on Wrandal. There were only three city-states that could be fortified – Clariane, Strame/Helt and Baron/Kelt. The Doms muttered that it was now a question of when a challenge on Shalah would be issued, and, said Dancer grimly, whether the gates or a gate were closed or ajar.
The Red Councils united as best they could but they still found a full synthesis difficult and frustrating as well as unsustainable. This was because at least one member from each Council, through saying an oath, was subject to Jepaul and they now found that other full Councils were subject likewise. Nor was there a Mythlin. It was inhibiting. They were angry over forced submission but still uncertain and wary as they had to carefully consider how to proceed with someone who seemed to be as unpredictable and uncompromising as his ancestor.
Their combined pleasure with Grone and Jamir had abated as they were satiated, the Cynases barely recognisable with their hollow eyes and gaunt, haunted faces. The Nedru needed them alive but just enough so they’d lead armies – nothing more. Time for Jamir and Grone ran out as they approached ends ghastlier than anyone could imagine.
The Red Council decided they’d move to Wrandal, leaving behind the near total ruins of three city-states. The Red Council of Arrain-Toh had eliminated Harnath’s family and was comfortably destroying the city, but they said they would also go to Wrandal on completion of the wreckage of Arrain-Toh. All Varen, remaining troops, citizens and emtori were to be marshalled from the ruined cities and assembled as a force at Wrandal. The city was still relatively intact for the time being. It would be a satisfactory base and close to other existing city-states.
If there was to be a conflict, and the Nedru had made a sudden jump to the inevitability of this, there had to be a very strong force to ensure a complete victory over all other Shalahs. They’d never accept any city-state not being under Nedru domination and, though Adon at Clariane had shown neither aggression nor disobedience, still they wanted him back under control. They intended to take Strame/Helt. Barok would be suitably punished.
Baron/Kelt would be their final objective. The Nedru expected Adon to bring his considerable force to their support. Anything else, to Nedru minds, was unthinkable. The battle lines for Shalah were, once again, drawn, the Nedru unaware that Grohol from every corner of Shalah marched to Baron/Kelt.
The Red Councils wondered about Jepaul’s possible reaction to their move and whether he would endorse and laud them as he seemed to do,
or whether he’d see their actions as provocative and annoying. His intentions were quite unclear. And at the same time, the Doms wondered when Sh’Bane would reappear. They’d felt his presence on leaving the Island and once or twice as they wandered Shalah, but his apparent absence troubled them. They suspected, uneasily, that when he came he’d not be alone: hellions would be round him in support and eager for battle.
The Red Council army arrived at Clariane. They met with stolid silence and a refusal to open the gates. Infuriated by their reception the Red Councils decided Adon would be brought down and taught the lesson learned by Jamir and Grone and, soon, by Barok. Accordingly the order was given for an assault. The battle for Shalah was soon in full train. Adon and his army and Varen, supported by everybody else who was able-bodied, held out for a considerable time until reinforcements reached them from Strame/Helt and some from Baron/Kelt.
That combined force attacked the Red Council army from the rear and inflicted significant damage and loss of life. Since the Red Council had metalans with them they intended to use them to replace any people who died, so anyone opposing them unlucky enough to be captured was dragged, screaming and struggling, to have a large mature writhling inserted. This was done without pity.
Knowing this, some of the relieving force and those in Clariane faltered. It was Jepaul, inexhaustible, who constantly rallied them, his towering figure and mane of recognisable hair a beacon of hope for everyone on the field. He popped up everywhere, unexpectedly, his call a rallying one. Until now he’d been careful to not reveal himself, but after discussion with the Doms it was agreed the time for revelation was now. The Nedru, outraged at the sight of him in Clariane and in the front line of the opposition, frothingly hissed with fury.
Through use of the metalans they forced their fighters to attack more vigorously. But the ordinary troops and citizens, the latter not very well trained, became drained by the metalans more quickly and succumbed as they rapidly weakened and couldn’t sustain the cruelly relentless prodding. The metalans, in reluctant and collapsing hosts, also began to lose cohesion. That was because those with control shards either fell and the shards were misplaced, or, more often, the shards were broken in battle.
Without them, writhlings could still enforce continued exertion in their hosts but not as a controlled group. The hosts increasingly yielded and died in droves, literally driven to death by those who used them in such a relentless way. There was no coordination among them. As hosts fell the writhlings, without Red Council direction and control, mostly forgot their function and began to gorge instead. For defenders it was a gruesome and horrific sight that made many vomit from sheer revulsion and horror.
Varen, though, were altogether a different matter. They were very tightly cohesive and they were what the Nedru needed most. To the Red Councils, the other fighters were insignificant and dispensable. But the Varen, until they too at the end for Shalah would be eliminated, were essential. And as they all carried writhlings they fought tirelessly and with a ferocity unmatched by opposing Varen.
It was only when the Red Council army withdrew some distance to reform and assess their losses that the true carnage of the battle around Clariane could be seen. It was sickening. Jepaul, distraught at the slaughter and the truly appalling vista, groped desperately for his pipe, long trembling fingers fumbling with it as he raised it to quivering lips. The haunting evocative sound echoed and hung in the air and it eased the suffering of those about him who momentarily forgot their miseries. Belika stayed close to him, her arms reassuringly about him.
When the battle resumed it was seen that no one was going to win. Clariane held. The relieving force broke through the attackers from the rear and Jepaul ordered that all those captured by the defenders, of any race on Shalah, be immediately assessed for a metalan. If any were found to have one, and by now it would only be those with large mature ones who survived, he or she was instantly put to death. To watch any Shalah struggle to obey a writhling and die in the attempt was a dreadful sight and not one Jepaul would tolerate. Compassion drove that order.
Where possible death was humane. If not, it was at the point of a sword directed right at where the metalan inhabited, the writhling continuing to fight and writhe long after its host was dead. It was why huge pyres were constructed. Fire finally consumed still alive writhlings. They liked warmth, not burning. People could hear the high-pitched keening shrieks of metalans trapped as they began to sizzle. It was dreadful to hear and even worse to watch.
The Red Council army decided to withdraw. The relieving Strame/Helt army joined that of Clariane and rested for two days. They stripped the city of every weapon, armament and supplies, as much as could be carried and left an abandoned city. Not a soul was left within the battered walls. Glancing back at it, Adon wondered if he’d ever see it again. He suspected he wouldn’t. This very large force followed the Red Council army, caught up with it and harried it as it drove on towards Baron/Kelt.
The Red Council decided to ignore Strame/Helt. They reasoned, plausibly, that Strame/Helt would support Baron/Kelt, so they’d deal with Barok and the city at a later date. Their prime objective now was to attack and subdue Baron/Kelt where they were quite sure Jepaul was resident. Their venom and hatred was profound and it was directed at him, their newly recognised weakness due to him and no one else. Of the Progenitor’s line or not he’d suffer retribution. The Nedru would administer the lesson.
It was now that the Nedru, after a long and difficult synthesis, decided to call upon their Shalah servants; they were, among others, Cefors, Air-wraiths and the Succubi; the Cilikas and the Huyuks would be readied to come and on the way they’d wreak the havoc so loved by the Nedru. They were equally vicious and ruthless. It was highly fortuitous that the army from Clariane diverted their route from that followed by the Red Council army and chose a path recommended by the Grohol. It cut significant time off their march to Baron/Kelt. The terrain may have been more tortuous and wearing, but the benefits outweighed temporary effort or discomfort, even for the sick and injured.
The Doms had already instructed Barok to now abandon Strame/Helt as the city had, like Clariane, served its purpose. It had given Baron/Kelt time to develop itself further with deeper reinforcements and new settlements, fully fortified, to accommodate the masses that had descended there. Clariane and Strame/Helt had, by taking the overflow of refugees from everywhere, enabled progress to be remarkably quick and efficient. Diverting people to those cities had another purpose. It meant people could be properly and adequately trained as well as housed and looked after, but now every person was required for the defence of Baron/Kelt. The Doms knew that was where the most important physical battle for Shalah would be.
Before the Clariane army arrived, Varen and various city troops had set up huge camps all round the city behind formidable artificial fortifications the Grohol had organised and supervised for months. The camps were cleverly inter-linked with each other, both above ground and through a sophisticated network of tunnels that burrowed for miles in all directions and into the city itself. Each had a huge arsenal. The Doms were frankly impressed and said so.
By the time the armies of Clariane and Strame/Helt arrived they were found to have been very lucky. Those scouts sent out to check the progress of the Red Council army reported back, some punctured and raked by surging Cefors who converged to Nedru support from everywhere. The scouts described hordes of the creatures and forms with protuberances that the Doms immediately identified as Succubi. The seeming clouds that hovered then came and went the Companions were told were Air-wraiths. When the Companions looked a question the Doms’ answer was short.
“They smother their victims.”
And Quon, hesitating, thought of Lesul. The real battle for Shalah only began. The inhabitants, thought Quon sadly, would become almost irrelevant because this war was for more, much more. Shalah as a cosmic entity could cease to exist altogether.
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The Grohol descent on Baron/Kelt was as welcome as it was unexpected. There were warrior Grohol and very many like Saracen. They were toughened by their long haul from all parts of Shalah, through and under mountains, across steep valleys and through towering, precipitately steep gorges, all of them armed and with pugnacious expressions of determination. None now blinked in bright light, their eyes now adjusted to the sun.
They reached Baron/Kelt ahead of the Red Council army and from a completely different direction. They had experienced serious skirmishes with Red Council scouts but mainly with Cefors and Succubi which had left a few men nastily marked and bloodied. They could give a very accurate account and assessment of what probably descended on the city and it made sober hearing. They spoke of the Huyuks who began to shake the ground regularly, a pounding the Grohol found affected their sensitive hearing and balance.
The Red Council host arrived. It was formidable indeed. The Doms, eying the force that opposed them and settled themselves in, decided that the defenders had to be told what faced them and what they could do to try to protect themselves. They believed it was unfair and cruel to send anyone into battle with creatures heard of only through myth or horror fairytales told to naughty children. So leaders from all groups within the city, from Varen to freed emtori, fisherfolk and all in-betweens, were assembled so they could be addressed. The Doms debated who should speak to them. They chose Jepaul.
It was, thus, a powerful figure who stood, once again alone, on a balcony overlooking a sea of faces upturned to his. His eyes swept across those gathered. His voice, strangely soft, had a compelling quality to it that impelled an immediate response.
“I am Jepaul.”
“Known as the Master,” yelled a solitary voice from below.
“As you wish.” Jepaul paused. “What I have to say to you may cause anxiety and alarm, maybe even fear, but none here must respond that way because with you and among you are those who can both support and hopefully protect you.” There was an expectant hush. “When the battle comes, as it will, among the enemy are creatures unseen or unknown on Shalah for aeons. Some of you have already had encounters with Cefors. Others among you have met ones called Succubi. With them are creatures called Air-wraiths.” There was an uncomfortable silence. “These creatures are not native to Shalah.”
“What are they then?” called a voice.
“They are the remnants from battles long ago. You read of them as history and sometimes heard of them through myths. They were brought here.”
“By the damned Progenitor!” growled a very deep voice directly below Jepaul.
“Yes,” answered Jepaul, “by the one I resemble. But I’m not the Progenitor. I’m his descendant, yes, and cursed because of it. I may be the last of that line, but I’m one of those who will fight with you and for you. I am more than simply of that line. Watch and listen.”
There was now a fraught silence. Four figures joined Jepaul on the balcony, shadowy and insubstantial. As they suddenly began to glow, so did Jepaul. And behind them came five figures who stayed in vague outline as the Doms in front of them united and lit the darkness with incandescent flickers of light that grew stronger. They were colours of red, blue, palest fawn and a darker dun that was held with a whiteness that was almost blinding. As people gave an almost concerted gasp of awe and fear, the five figures behind the Doms merged to a single point of whiteness streaked with the same colours as the Doms, before they abruptly faded. The Doms, though, stayed bright until very, very slowly, they first dulled to silhouettes then firmed to solid figures those assembled stared up at. Voices rang out in unison.
“Know us. We are ancient. We answer to the Maquat Doms of Shalah, the Elementals from the Island and the Order of Salaphon. We fought in ages past to save your world. Know us, one by one.”
“I am Dom Fire. I ignite air. I am mutable.”
“I am Dom Water. I extinguish fire. I am mutable.”
“I am Dom Earth. I can absorb water. I am immutable.”
“I am Dom Air. I fan fire or move water. I am mutable.”
“I am Ebon.”
“I am Sapphire.”
“I am Quon.”
“I am Wind Dancer.”
“I speak. I am Quon. We did not forsake Shalah. We were the five Elementals. It’s what makes us whole. During the ancient battles to save Shalah we lost one of our own. She was Dom Spirit/Quintessence. When she was lost part of us died with her. We were badly hurt, though Shalah was saved. Your histories tell you this.”
“I speak. I am Fire. We are the Four Elementals. We were the Five Elementals and can only be whole as such. And now, today, as we stand here among you, we have found renewed strength through our unity. We are the Five again. Spirit is with us once more.”
“I am Dom Spirit/Quintessence. I answer to Jepaul.”
As one, the Doms spoke.
“We are the Elementals of Shalah. We are the guardians of Shalah. We stand united in defence of Shalah.”
The silence was deafening. Those who looked up swallowed hard, licked dry lips, blinked repeatedly, or felt weak as they watched each figure speak, their eyes mesmerisingly fixed on the Five. Then a slow chant began that swelled.
“Maquat Doms of the Island!”
When quietness finally fell, Quon spoke again.
“You’ll need fortitude and courage for what comes, my friends,” he warned. “Ancient enemies and invaders of Shalah from aeons ago walk among us once again. We won’t desert you. But you need to know that the evils that confront and assault you will be driven by obsession and hatred, nor will they stop until they’re forced to. They destroy all about them. Some of you have experienced this in your home city-states. They destroy all. Shalah will not be spared.” Quon paused. He saw deep fear and dread in upturned faces but also defiance and grim determination. “They use metalans, better known to you as writhlings. They corrupted the Mythlin, many Varen and many of your Cynases over very long syns. It led to your being treated with cruelty and contempt. All these people and creatures answer to the Red Councils. You do well to fear them.”
Quon paused again, then it was Jepaul who leaned forward on the balustrade.
“Remember your histories,” he suggested. “I was made lowest caste emtori in Castelus where I was born. I had to escort a merchant’s son to school so I learned the histories there. Who are the ancient ones called the Nedru, people of Shalah?” It was a rhetorical question met with an uneasy silence. “Where did they come from?” Still no one answered. “From the abyss of darkness. And they’re here now, among you.”
There was a fearful rustling as eyes dilated and people began to sweat and fidget uncomfortably. It was Quon who now spoke.
“The Nedru, my friends, are the Red Councils. Know your enemies and certainly fear them, but don’t despair about them. Know the truth. Look squarely at it; it is better than to live in abysmal ignorance and naïve hope that all is what you want to believe it is. It isn’t.”
There was appalled silence. No one looked at his neighbour. People were still and deeply disturbed.
“When you leave this assembly,” said Sapphire calmly, “do so with hope and a belief that Shalah will prevail. There are ways we can show you to counter these forces but they’re powerful creatures you confront. Still, no one is entirely without their weaknesses which is something we’ve learned and can exploit.”
“We need you to trust us,” added Wind Dancer, “and also to believe in us. That’s all we ask as we battle beside you as we did once before.”
Hours later it was decided, after prolonged and sometimes acrimoniously anxious discussion, that those who were addressed by the Doms wouldn’t pass on what they’d just learned to others. What they would ensure was that those junior or subordinate to them would learn the defences the Doms promised would be immediately forthcoming. What, however, shook them even more was the realisation that the other indistinguishable five figures they?
??d seen behind the Doms were later revealed to be Cadran and the Companions. This was completely unexpected and a shock. Even those like Dral were taken-aback, as was Lisle who listened in disbelief. But Saneel simply smiled, not at all surprised.
“Is it,” she asked Sapphire lying beside her that evening, the Dom laughing at her as she teased him and he pushed her hand away, “usual for there to be two sets of Doms at the same time?”
“Saneel, we -.” The hand moved again. “Leave be, woman,” Sapphire suggested.
“Not until you answer me.”
Sapphire stared into eyes that still entranced him and he heaved a sigh, his hand now over hers.
“Saneel, we’ve not known this situation. As I’ve told you before, though you refuse to believe it, we’re very, very old – ancient in fact.”
“It doesn’t show,” countered Saneel with a mischievous smile.
“That’s as maybe,” returned Sapphire, starting to laugh. He thought then went on slowly, “As far as I know there were no Doms before us, but by the time we were found, then chosen and finally taken to the Island, there was the Five. We were junior master Doms.”
“So no others?”
“Not as I recall, no.”
“You’re the only Doms then?”
“I don’t know, Saneel. Salaphon never spoke of any others. All we know is that Shalah is an old world though not as old as many others.”
“Are you entirely of Shalah, Sapphire?”
Sapphire’s eyes glinted into Saneel’s, but he made no reply nor did he remove his hand from hers. With a resigned sigh, Saneel lay back invitingly and asked no more questions.