Chapter 18. The Graveyard
There are many places where you may roam.
From the Isles in the Western Sea to the great mountains of the East
But do not go into the lands that are forbidden for there lies death.
From the Book of Isarie.
Valen had stayed within his hiding place, as the winds raged outside for a day and a night, now the air was quiet and it was time to return to his journey of vengeance.
The young Caladon warrior, had rested and regained his strength, he had managed to kill a young Doff-bird that had wandered into his hiding place. It was surely the offspring of the huge Outland fowl, he had battled and defeated a short time before. With its flesh now filling his belly, he felt, he could take on, an Earthshaker.
His Whiptail was also content, it had devoured the remains of the scavenger bird and could now go many days without eating. It stood quietly, as Valen tightened the saddle strap and placed the carry bags over its back. He checked his armor and fixed his war-ax to his saddle horn, adjusted the twin daggers and the pouch around his middle. He pulled on the great horned helmet, with the marking of his tribe. When all was made ready, the Nomad looked his beast in its large yellow eyes.
“I think we have rested enough”, he said with a smile, “now it is time we follow our vow”. The warrior put his boot into the stirrup and pulled himself onto the back of his mount. Taking up the reins, he dug his long spurs into the flanks of his Whiptail and they raced out of the broken machine, into the morning sunlight.
The day was bright and clear, the winds of the days before had erased the storm clouds away, leaving only an open blue sky and the day moons slowly moving overhead.
Valen rode quietly away from the broken steel shelter, as he did he filled his lungs with the clean fresh air and felt the warm sunlight on his face. This was how a Nomad lived, free and strong, going where he would, trusting in his strength and his faith, to carry him to victory. It was the way of an Outlander and it was right.
The Caladon warrior, rode up a small rise and looked out over the land. There was little sign of the great iron monster that he sworn to find and kill. The winds of the last few days, erased most of the tracks, there was still enough to show where it had crossed the earth. With the indentations in the ground, where the huge treads of the steel monster had moved, there were many half buried remains of Trofar, Nomad and Sandjar. Their bodies, now only scraps for the gathering Sun-droppers. As Valen looked down on his fallen brethren, he wanted to stop and give them a proper burial, but there was no time now. He urged his mount forward but also uttered a small prayer and asked forgiveness of the dead.
All morning, the young warrior followed the trail of his enemy, through the Toys of Isarie. All about were broken machines of immense size, steel skeletons that rose up and bore witness to the battle that once must have raged here. As Valen rode, his mind was filled with questions.
Why did the Gods place such things here? He asked his mind; and why do they called this a forbidden land, there are no dangers here, this is a land of the dead. To make certain of that, he scanned his surroundings, looking for any sign of demons or monster that might attack him. All he found were harmless rock-runners and the occasional lumbering shellback. There was vegetation here and there, not the great open grasslands that should have been abundant, instead it was spotty with patches of brown and small pools of dark foul smelling oil. There was one thing, the Nomad knew, amid the ancient remains were great outcroppings of Eul, the black rock, Nomads burnt as fuel.
It is a poisonous place that is certain, but there are no monsters here.
With his mind trying to figure out his questions, he came up over a small hill littered with iron and large Eul rocks, to look down at the Steel God.
It was sitting amid a mass of machinery and the remains of great ivory skeletons. The mass of steel and bones, stretched out in all directions and would have supplied the Outlanders, with enough Itarian steel for a thousand years and more. The dead creatures that lay strewn about, were as large or larger than a full-grown Earth Shaker. They were of strange shapes, and the bones were as thick as the great trees in the Caltarine forest. As Valen looked down on the mass of steel and bone, he knew, a great battle had once been fought here, it also troubled his mind.
Why would toys fight with animals? To this question the warrior had no answer, it did not matter, he had found his enemy, and now he would destroy it.
How?
Valen was one of the best warriors of the Outlands, single handed, he had fought and killed two strong Armrod, who had sought to cut off his head, for an insult, they had heard him say. He had stood before a charging Rimar, and lived to tell the tale. On his leg, he bore deep scars from a Daggermouth that had grabbed him near Still Water Lake. He had never backed down from a challenged to his honor. Now he faced an enemy that seemed invincible.
He knew, a good warrior, knows his enemy, so heeding his own words, he got down from his Whiptail, tied it to a clump of metal, jutting out of the ground. It was behind a boulder that would shield it from the sight of the metal creature. Taking his war-ax in his hand, he moved up to a point where he could see he enemy clearer.
His keen eyes, took in the massive size and strange shape of the beast, he knew it moved by the strength of Trofars, so he summarized, it was a vehicle of some sort, much like the great Karrack of the Nomad's High Priestess.
The God must travel inside; he thought; now the Trofar are dead, it cannot move.
Knowing his enemy was now helpless, made Valen smile for he understood that he need only find a weak spot, then attack that place, until he was victorious. He looked at the great iron beast, but he saw no such place, all that he could see, was a mass of thick steel, without a mouth or eyes or heart to strike at. All creatures have failings, I will find a place where my ax can bite.
Inside the sphere, the Darkman looked down at the two metal legs, now supported his cybernetic body. The pain that had come with his flesh being cut away, to be replaced by steel appendages had gone, now he felt only an unrelenting energy.
I can walk without pain again, he thought about the days and nights, when he had wandered in the Outlands weak and afraid, it made him angry. Then the anger vanished, with thoughts of his new strength and his God. He looked up at the glowing sphere, and saw it pulsing with life. It was my destiny to find Atos and become his servant. Thinking the word “servant” made him turn away from the Orb; I will not be a servant forever; how he would do this he did not know, he knew that someday he would find a way.
Easing his mind with this idea, he turned back to look at his God, all about him scurried the Repair-bots, Spotters, and all the other metal creatures, to which he had grown accustomed. Here and there, he saw a mindless Nomad or Sandjar, they were becoming, few-in-number now, their bodies unable to continue with endless work. When they fell, they were taken outside and left to the scavengers.
It is for the best; he mused; and the weak are always food for the strong.
Once more he looked at the chamber about him. It had changed, there were many more strange machines, and one in particular the Shadowman had not seen before. It was over a meter in height and mostly round in design. There were several tentacles like arms, protruding from its metal and organic body. In many respects, it resembled a report-drone, the new mechanism, incorporated body parts from Nomad and Sandjar, to make a monstrosity of both. At its base, were two tread-like mechanisms that gave it movement. The most startling thing about the metal creature, was that it could talk.
“Incoming reports, on power drives alternatives, are being evaluated”, it said as it stood before the Orb. “Power, is being kept at acceptable levels, by solar and energy regulators, while first and second interface sections are being re-calibrated”.
All this meant nothing to the Darkman, his knowledge of alternate power resources, and solar collectors was none existent.
The Task-robot was there to replace the Report Drone that had for
so long, reported on the repairs as the lay hidden inside the third magnitude star called Procus. That robot, had been destroyed in the battle with the Eran. It could easily be replaced, now there was a need for such a source of information, so the Orb gave commands that another be built. Now, it stood waiting for a response from its controller.
The sphere pulsed with a blue glow once again, then it spoke to its minion, “have we reached the desired coordinates?” it asked.
“We have reached the correct longitude and latitude, starting at a fixed reference point calculated from the topographical information supplied”, the drone replied.
The Shadowman had no way of knowing that the route to where they now stood, was taken from his mind. The Orb had looked into his memories, and found what it had been looking for, a place where it could find materials, to continue its ominous plan.
“Ready the retrievers, and compile a summary of their findings”.
“At once”, replied the Task-robot, then it turned and rolled away into a darkened corridor.
The Shadowman watched the strange creature move away. The Gods have many slaves; he thought then he heard the voice of his master.
“I have reached the place where I wished to be”, it said, “now we can begin”
The Darkman felt a slight tingling in his head, as if a cold wind, had found its way into his mind. The tingling grew more intense, until, it felt like he had a nest of Blaze-ants, racing around in his skull. He lifted his metal hand to his head and tried to shake the buzzing away.
“What is happening?” he asked.
“We are becoming stronger”, was the answer.
Valen was about to move closer to the metal beast, when he saw it begin to stir, he watched in bewilderment as a great opening appeared at one side, and hundreds of shiny creatures began to emerge. They scurried out, and moved in all directions, some were as small as Rockrunners, others were the size of Trofar, a few were twice that magnitude. They moved outwards, a great army of iron and steel, and began to dismantle the ancient machinery and bleached skeletons that had lain undisturbed for centuries.
What are they doing? He thought; why would a God need steel and bone?
He decided it was time he had a closer look at his enemy, so taking up his weapon, he slowly moved down the hill and towards the Iron God. He moved silently, using the mass of steel, bone and Eul rock to hide his body. As he moved closer to his goal, his head began to pound with a strange pain. It was small at first, little more than receiving a thump on the head from a drunken Nomad, as he moved forward, the pain became more intense. The Caladon warrior shrugged it off, and continued to move closer to his enemy. With each step the pain grew, until it was a pounding that he could not ignore.
What is happening? Valen thought, as he put his hand to his head; why is there pain without seeing an enemy? He stumbled forward still holding his head, refusing to turn away, then he felt something invading his mind, calling him forward, making his legs move without his permission.
“No I will not go!” he called out. His body refused to listen, and he moved onward, as he did, the small metal spider that he had taken from the neck of Hasgar, stirred in his carry pouch. To his horror, it burst free of its confines and began to move up his chest. It made a “clicking” sound, and rattled its thin appendages, causing the Nomad to throw himself against a large metal plate. He tried to raise his hand, to strike the thing from his body but his arm refused to move. All he could do, was stand and watch, as the hideous creature made its way up to his neck. There it stopped and looked into the eyes of the Nomad.
Valen was now shaking with pain, and the effort, to pull himself free, of the thing that was taking control of his mind. He ground his teeth, and the great muscles on his arms and legs swelled with the effort, being used by the Caladon warrior.
“No I will not go!” grunted the Outlander through clenched teeth, “I will not GO!”
Slowly, the metal spider moved behind his head, he felt its tiny metal feet digging into his flesh, getting ready to impale him with its mind probe. The “clicking” sound grew louder, and the Nomad knew that he had only seconds to gain his freedom. Summoning up all his strength, he forced his head forward, then brought it back hard crushing the metal creature between flesh and steel.
There was a shower of sparks, then the creature fell to the ground. Not stopping for rest, Valen forced his feet to turn away and move back the way he came. With each step, the pain in his head began to ease, and his movements became more his own. He filled his mind with images of his past life, he saw himself riding strong and free over the vast open plains of the Outlands. This slowly replaced the voice that was calling him to submit and become one of many.
He moved like a man caught in a night terror, each step eased the pain in his head, but with each step his strength began to wane. He felt like his arms and legs, were being held back by swamp sand, it took all his will, to keep from being sucked down into a dark abyss.
I will not fall; he cried out in his mind; I WILL NOT FALL!
Onward he moved, inching his way back up the small rise, away from the invader of his thoughts.
How long it took to walk, then crawl back to his Whiptail, he did not know. He had lost all track of time, when at last, he lay atop the hill near his mount, he let himself rest. He lay there for a time, sucking in great lungs full of sweet air, and feeling his strength slowing returning. At last the pain was gone, and his mind became free of the intruder that had taken over his will.
“I did not fall,” he said to the sky, “I did not fall”, he closed his eyes and all was darkness.
When Valen opened his eyes once more it was night, he looked up at the stars and the moons overhead. The night’s moons, looked down upon him shining brightly, seeing them brought contentment to the soul of the young warrior. The Caladon slowly raised himself up on one arm and turned to gaze down on the Graveyard below. In the moonlight, he saw a field of metal creatures moving about in a vast mosaic of activity. Their number could not be counted, their purpose could not be known. The Nomad sat and watched all through the night, and continued to watch until the twin suns rose in the sky, and the stars vanished from the heavens.