Chapter 24. The Judgment
I give you the power of my judgment.
It is my word, it is my breath, it is my fire.
All who need be judged, shall be judged.
The truth is there for all to see, you hold it in your hands.
From the Book of Isarie.
The great sun Karus was high in the sky, while its smaller brother Micos, rose just above the horizon. They hung like two golden eyes of the Gods, as they looked down on the open Grassland's of Darmock. If they were indeed the eyes of the Gods, like the Sun-Gazers believed, they would see something to make Atos the War God smile.
There was a large gathering of the warriors around the ancient battle pit, they came from all the great tribes and were ready to see the undefeated giant Ashra-Doom, crush the Off-World woman into the ground.
Many wagers had been placed in favor of Ashra-Doom but their winnings would be very small. By contrast, the odds on the woman surviving, were very good, although there weren't many takers. Anyone who thought she would live, was sure to be called a Frail-leg. However, if someone decided to go against common wisdom, he or she, stood to win many Sagar teeth and Rimar horns. Not to mention, many strands of ocean shells and baskets of Robox root, all they needed was for Andra to win!
Kadar was eager for the challenge to begin, he was sure his champion warrior would soon remove the Half-Soul's head. He was so confident that he wagered his best Whiptail, against King of the Caladon's, three Spike-backs, he wanted to see the look on his fat face, when he came to collect.
Since the challenge was a matter between warriors and did not involve the Gods, Obec and her Handmaidens stayed away. They were praying and communing with the Gods in the Temple of Isarie. The Sun-Gazer would be present, to make sure that all the proper rituals were carried out and that it was a fair challenge.
Arn and Andra, had yet to appear at the battle ring, they were still at the King’s tent preparing for the coming fight. Ordinarily, the tribe's warriors would have helped Andra into her armor and made sure her new battle-ax was sharp. This time the King ordered them to stay outside his tent, telling them he would help, the Off-Worlder.
“Remember what we practiced,” Arn’s face showed no fear but inside he was very afraid, “Keep you weapon high, Ashra likes to collect heads.”
Andra tried to listen but she was thinking of the night before, “Yes, you've told me a thousand times but I will remember?” I will remember the touch of your hands and the warmth of your body.
Arn tighten her leg guard straps, “When he strikes for the head, his right leg will be exposed, armor is weakest, just above the knee.” Her legs are strong yet soft.
“Yes, he’ll try to wear me down and when I’m weakest, he will move in for the kill,” she said. She wasn't even listening to herself; when he is on top of me, moving so strong, so strong.
Arn finished tightening the strap and turned her around, to check the fit of her back plating, “Ashra-Doom is strong but his strike is slow, if you move quickly enough, you can stay out range of his tooth.” Her hair smells so sweet, like meadow grass in the morning air.
Andra was growing impatient with his condescending tone, “I know, I know, I fought the Darkmar on Primax One and they're even bigger than Ashra.” Does he love me? Do I deserve to be loved?
Arn was satisfied with the back plate and moved round to her front, checking the chest piece was not hindering her movement. “I do not know the Darkmar but I know Ashra-Doom, he has killed many strong warriors, Horcon smiles on him!” Her breasts are like Doff feathers, soft and warm; he finished his inspection and stood back to look at her. Her armor fits well, she is ready. “Remember this, do not listen to the warriors, they are not in the pit with you, listen only to your own mind!” I wish she could hear my heart.
Andra turned from side to side, testing the mobility of her armor; it fits well and I need all the armor I can wear. “I’m ready, hand me my weapon.”
Arn reached for the war-ax, then stopped himself; she wants to see if I will make a fool of myself, by touching her ax, she is testing me.
A faint smile crossed Andra’s face, he smiled back at her, then she picked up her weapon and tested its weight, “This ax is not as heavy as yours, are you sure it will work?” she asked.
“A tooth, is not measured by its weight,” he replied, “but where it bites”
She swung the ax several times, moving with it, as she did, letting the blade lead her, measuring its speed and balance.
The King watched her movements carefully; she moves like a sky dancer, graceful but strong, she might have a chance against Ashra-Doom but if she does not I will lose her.
Andra stopped and let the ax fall to her side, she looked at Arn, suddenly feeling very afraid. What if I’m killed, will he remember me or will I be just another conquest in bed?
She was about to say something, when a warrior thrust his helmeted head into the tent, his words were official, “Forgive me my lord but the Queen mother wishes to speak to you.”
The King nodded, “Very well send her in.”
The guard drew the tent flap open wide and in streamed a shaft of sunlight, until it was obscured by a woman entering into the tent.
Egmar stood proudly, her face showing no emotion. She looked at her son, “Forgive this intrusion but I need to speak,” she said coolly.
Andra started to leave, “I’ll leave you alone.”
The Queen reached out and touched Andra's arm, “No, I wish to speak to you my child.” The King, was caught off guard by this remark and for a moment he groped for words, “Ahhh yes, of course, I will go.” Andra and the Queen watched as he left the tent. Egmar removed her hand, she went over to a strong wooden stool and sat down. She smoothed out the wrinkles in her robe, then looked at Andra, “My son is a fool,” she said coldly.
Andra's response was immediate, with eyes wide open, she said, “What! Your son is no fool, he’s the bravest, most courageous man I ever met!”
The Queen smiled softly; the woman has told me what I needed to know, she loves my son.
Andra suddenly realized what the old Queen was doing; she knows, she knows. She tried to hide her feelings, “At times he can be very difficult, in fact he can...”
“You love him, do not try to deny it,” the Queen's words were not an accusation, they were filled with hope, “Does he love you in return?”
Andra moved to the far end of the tent, she felt more at ease now. She did not want to look into the old woman’s face and tell a lie, “No, he doesn’t love me!” she said softly; no one should love me, I don’t deserve to be loved.
Egmar let Andra's words hang in the air, she had been Queen for many years and she knew quite well, the turning of a young woman’s heart. Once, she had been young herself and knew all the pain and joy of love. “Arn is a good King, a strong King but he has many questions that he asks his heart, you must help him, to find the answers.” Then the Queen closed her eyes; you must help him because I will not always be here.
Andra moved a few steps towards the Queen; she’s asking me to take care of her son...why? “Your son doesn’t need me, he’s a King and I’m just a... Half-Soul.” A Half-Soul who loves him very much.
She watched the Queen slowly open her eyes, “The Book of Isarie, says we are The Chosen, all others are to be shunned. Love does not look for a crown, or care for the names we call ourselves, it only sees a place to grow.”
Andra moved closer to the old woman, Egmar held up the plant she'd picked during her conversation with Anais, “You see this flower?”
“Yes,” Andra answered.
“This flower grows in the bleak rocks, it should not be able to. There is very little earth and it is exposed to wind and rain and heat, yet it still grows. Love is the same, it grows where it should not survive.”
Andra looked at the small flower; she’s very smart for an old lady, should I tell her how I feel?
Egmar handed the flower to Andra, “Take this and ta
ke my son, he will need a strong woman to stand beside him, together the Gods will smile on you.”
Andra took the flower then looked at the Queen, “I don’t believe in the Gods,” she said.
The old woman looked deeply into Andra's eyes, “Do you believe in my son?”
“Yes” she replied.
Egmar nodded, “That is enough, belief in the Gods is in our minds, love comes from the heart.”
At that moment, the King's tent did not hold a Queen of the Almadra and a Half-Soul from the stars. It held two women, who stood holding each other, one whose heart was open to the call of love and the other whose heart had answered that call long ago. They were content.
Agart was thinking of his sister and what he should do. He stood unseen near the Talk-stone, next to a very large column, once the marker for the Argonie. The tribe destroyed by the red crystals, he looked at the broken pieces of stone and the faded names of Outlanders now dead.
He shook his head, Seeda has broken the laws of the tribe, she has gone against the Book of Isarie, she has gone against the King; he thought. He looked up at the morning sky; Isarie, you see all and understand all and I am your child, tell me what to do?
He waited for words to enter his head, to tell him what to do but no words came. He spoke out loud, hoping the Gods would hear him better. “If I tell the King, then she shall be made Outcast, my mother’s heart will break and I will never see her face again, is that what you want?” Again he heard nothing, he looked down at the ground; if I say nothing, how will I answer the three questions asked on the Day of Judgment.
Do you know my book?
Do you follow its teachings?
Do you believe?
Agart shook his head again, “She is my sister.” He waited an answer from the Gods, there was only silence. You do not hear my words, perhaps I am not close enough to you, I will pray for guidance. Suddenly he felt much better, he looked up at the morning sky. Yes, I shall pray and ask the Gods for guidance but what if they do not hear me, what then? He looked over at the broken stones of the Argonie; can I let the laws of Isarie go unheeded, can I let my tribe be destroyed? “Tell me what to do?” he called out. More silence. I will pray, yes I will pray and the Gods will hear me. He left the Talk-stone and walked towards the High Priestess' tent.
Arn waited outside his tent, he tried not to think of what his mother might be saying to Andra. More than once, he wanted to go back inside and demand they speak in his presence. After all he was the King and if he wanted it so, then it would be done. On the other hand it was his mother and like all sons, he did not want to anger her, so he paced back and forth, like a hungry Sager Cat and waited.
The guards posted at his tent, watched him moving back and forth, they thought it odd but they were not about to question the King and they stood quietly at their stations.
Arn continued to pace, he asked himself; what are they doing in there? Is my mother telling her to leave the tribe? Is she asking her questions? Is she angry with me for spending so much time with an Off-World woman and not being the King I should be?
Before he could ask himself any more questions, the tent flap opened and his mother walked out, she looked at him and smiled, “The woman is strong,” was all she said and then she walked away. Arn was not sure what that meant, before he could think upon it further, Andra came out holding her Ax. She looked up at the sky, “It’s a nice day,” she said smiling, then she looked at the King, “A good day for a fight.” She too began to walk away, Arn watched her go; I may be King but I know very little about women; he told himself.
It took only a moment before the King and his guards were walking by Andra's side, Arn was about to ask what happened in the tent but before he could Andra spoke. “Your mother is very wise,” she said with a small smile.
The King watched as she lifted a tiny flower to her nose and sniffed its fragrant aroma; Flowers and a Tooth, her name is a good one. He smiled but said nothing, they continued walking.
Obec prayed in the Temple of Isarie, she chanted all the Holy words and performed all the sacred rituals, required of a High Priestess. She listened while words from the Book of Isarie were spoken and she understood their meaning. She watched as the other Holy Women, bowed low before her.
She sat quietly in her tent and waited for her Handmaidens to remove the heavy headdress and ornate robes from her body. It was good to be free of all them and to feel the warm surrounding air, sooth her aching muscles and to relieve some, of the tensions within.
With the garments removed and placed on a table, the old woman motioned for the Handmaidens to go, they bowed low, then silently left the chamber.
Obec went to sit in a softer chair to rest and although it seemed like she was asleep, her mind was racing with thoughts. Fire and steel...the hand of Isarie is just, her judgment is final, The Chosen are the hand of the Gods, I will be the hand!
She suddenly heard a faint voice calling to her, “Tishka.” Tishka...little bird? The name my mother used to call me; she opened her eyes. Standing in front of her was a woman, at first she did not know who she was, then she saw her face. The thin nose and lips, the cold uncaring eyes, when she saw those eyes, Obec knew who it was. Her mother. She was wearing the same robe and holding the statue of Isarie that had been buried with her.
“You are dead,” Obec said, there was no love in her voice. She watched as her mother held up the small statue and smiled at her.
“You are not the Hand of Isarie, Tishka, you are too small.”
Obec clinched her fists, “You are dead!”
Her mother smiled at her, “Orcost, Malluck, hashshem delcure, remas roc cornor. Out of the darkness and into the light. The Gods will arise!”
Obec closed her eyes; you are dead, you are dead; she opened them, the chamber was empty. The old woman shook her head; to many prayers, too much chanting, I need to res. She closed her eyes again but a few moments later, she heard a Handmaiden speak.
“Holy Mother?”
She saw a slim face, poking through the thin drapes that separated her inner chamber from the rest of the tent, “Yes,” she asked.
“The young Prince wishes to speak with you Holy Mother.” The small face replied.
“Let him enter.”
The drapes were lifted back and Prince Anais entered.
Obec took in his mood at a glance, the broad smile on his thin lips and a light in his usually cold eyes. She knew immediately, he was going to tell her something that would harm the King. She smiled at him, “Come in, let us talk.”
The young Prince moved into the chamber and sat on a chair with a soft cushion.
“Would you care for some Deep-root tea?” Obec asked.
Anais nodded, “I have something to tell you, it concerns my brother.”
The High Priestess smiled, like a Doff-bird about to eat its prey, “Yes...I know,” she said softly.
Many great warriors gathered around the battle pit, they were from all the tribes and they all waited eagerly for the challenge to begin. None of them had slept the night before, preferring to spend their time eating and drinking and placing wagers on whom Atos would smile upon.
There were still odds, although very slim that the Off-World woman would survive. A rumor had circulated that Arn spent the whole night, teaching her combat skills with the ax. It improved the odds on her victory slightly. A wager against Ashra-Doom now, would only give five Sagar teeth to one but even with those odds there were few takers.
The Elders of the Tribes were gathered around the challenge pit, as were many parents with their children, it was a common among the Outlanders, to bring their offspring to challenges. After all, a Nomad's life was a fight for survival, what better way to learn how to survive, than the challenge pit.
The Elders knew it was their responsibility to record the event and make sure it was written into the annals of their clans. Warriors of the future could read about it and learn from the detailed narrative.
Kadar looked up
, the suns were directly overhead, the challenge should begin. He looked over to the other side of the battle pit, there was no sign of the Off-World female. Perhaps the woman has fled; he thought, then he smiled; very well, by the rules of the challenge I will be the winner.
He looked over at the Caladon King, to make himself heard, he shouted above the clamor of the crowed, “I will come to your tent later, to collect my Spikeback!”
The Caladon King, turned his fat face towards Kadar and shouted back, “I will enjoy riding your Whiptail!”
Before the Kadar could shout out an insult about the mating practices of the fat King’s mother, there was a great roar from the crowd. He saw Ashra-Doom walking to the pit, it was said, he broke the neck of his Whiptail, with one blow after the beast snapped at him. That was a tale of course but the fact remained, none of the other warriors, could best him at the arm game and his appetite for Rimar was legendary. As he walked through the throng of admiring warriors, he looked every bit like an Earth-shaker, the bringer of death.
I should have wagered two more Whiptails; the King thought; he was about send word to the Caladon King, to increase the wager, when there was another roar from the warriors.
Kadar watched as the Off-Worlder and the King of the Almadra arrived and stood before the pit.
Andra felt very warm inside her suit of armor, although the metal skin was formed closely around her body, she was still uncomfortable with the restrictions to her movement. The helmet she wore, cut off her peripheral vision and to make matters worse, she felt the urge to urinate. None of this showed on her face, her eyes were fixed straight ahead and she did not tremble but her hands sweated a little. She looked at the monster she was about to face. He is big but that will slow his actions; she thought; you may have a chance.
Next to Andra stood Arn, holding his head high and looked every bit the King, he looked at Kadar‘s champion too. If Andra can stay out of his reach, she has a chance; he thought. He looked around for Agart, he was nowhere to be seen. He was pleased, to see his sister, standing nearby with Almec at her side. Good, she has come to stand with her tribe; he thought.
Suddenly there was a loud blast from the signal horns. The warriors stopped talking and watched as the Sun-Gazer came forward, he stood at the edge of the battle pit and raised his staff.
“A challenge has been given and a challenge has been accepted, let the challenger come forward and speak his name so that all may hear!”
Everyone watched Ashra-Doom move forward, he lifted his huge battle-ax, “Ashra Doom, Earth-shaker, Challenger of the Pit!” he said loudly.
A tremendous roar went up from the Armrod warriors, they beat their war-axes on the ground and shouted out the name of their champion.
Andra heard her opponent's name, shouted over and over; don’t listen to them, listen to your heart, find a place to bite, you have a chance.
The Sun-Gazer spoke again, “Let the challenged come forward and speak so that all may hear!”
Andra moved to the edge of the pit and held up her weapon, “Andra Oseira, Moonbud, Challenged of the Pit!” Her voice was strong. Another roar as the Almadra shouted out her name.
Arn heard the cries from his tribe; she is strong, she has a chance.
The Sun-Gazer lifted his rod and there was silence once more, he spoke, “The challenger and the challenged are here, let the Gods smile on the one, whose heart is true!”
As the crowd shouted and beat the ground, Andra looked at Arn. She wanted to say many things but there was no time now, maybe there would be later? She put her hand on his arm and speaking softly, so no one could hear she said, “I love you,” that was all. Then she went to the stone stairs leading into the pit.
Arn could do nothing more, it was out of his hands now, he was powerless. Andra's words made his heart beat faster and he thought; she loves me! Could the laws of the tribe be changed? Before he could answer himself, Andra entered the pit.
As Andra descended the stone steps, she felt very alone, she seemed to be leaving the world above and entering the pit of hell. I must not listen, I must find a place to bite; she thought. She walked to the center of the sunken arena, the ground felt soft beneath her feet. It will give me a firm footing if I keep moving, he might tire, then I can move in close; she thought.
With the warriors shouting, her opponent moved towards her.
Andra wasn't certain but the ground beneath her feet seemed to move, as the monster came towards her; Earth-shaker, they named him well.
They stood waiting until the Sun-Gazer came to the edge of the pit. He looked down and said, “I give the power of my judgment, it is my word, it is my breath, it is my fire. All those who need be judged, shall be judged, the truth is there for all to see, you hold it in your hands, let them be judged!” There was a great roar.
Andra watched as the monster came forward, his weapon raised; find a place to bite, find it or die.
The battle began.
Ashra-Doom swung his ax in a wide sweep, hoping to strike fast and end the battle quickly but Andra saw it coming and jumped clear. She turned back, just in time, to see another strike coming from her opponent, it missed by an inch.
He's big but he isn't slow; she thought; I will have to be quicker. She moved quickly to one side again and swung her ax at his thick leg. The blow hit but the giant's thick armor, saved him from injury. They both moved back, to take stock of their enemy.
Arn knew now, how his mother and brothers felt, when he was in the pit with his father; I cannot help, I cannot help; he thought.
Andra moved around the pit like a cat, trying to find any weakness in the giant's attack, it seemed useless. She had to move extremely fast, to avoid being cut in two, by the huge warrior. His eyes don’t betray his intentions; she thought. He shows, no fear, or hate, or anything I can use. Will he win?
They came together again, this time Andra struck first, then she dodged a blow to her head. Moving in low, she thrust the end of her ax into Ashra-Doom's stomach, the giant let out a cry and fell back.
Another great roar from the warriors.
Don't listen, don't listen; Andra expected to find a deep wound in his midsection but she saw only a small trickle of blood. He must be made of iron!
The giant spun his arm around quickly, it caught her off guard and sent her reeling backwards, she fell against the side of the pit.
The crowd screamed for the kill.
Arn's face was ashen; she is hurt! What can I do? He gripped his battle-ax; I will help her, I will not stand by and let her die.
Before he could do anything, Andra made a lighting fast move and Ashra-Doom's ax hit the pit's stone wall.
Seeda watched as her adopted sister, fought for her life. Although she beat the ground with her ax and shouted just as loud as the other warriors, she did not feel the fighting madness that affected all the others; where had it gone? She did not know why but she didn't feel the urge to jump into the arena, to die fighting but she continued shouting.
As the battle continued, there were two, who did not shout or beat the ground, they went unnoticed. Osh and Endo, stood watching from a vantage point, in the rows of seats. In spite of the heat, they wore heavy robes. The hoods hid their faces and allowed them to see what was happening, without being recognized. If anyone noticed them, they looked like a Nomad and his child watching the fight.
The old man could see that Andra was in trouble and it did not need a Callaxion, to calculate that her chances of staying alive, were slim. He looked at Endo who was holding his hand. Endo wants to save her; he thought but there is nothing he can do. Osh started to pull him away but Endo's clawed hand, dig into his flesh.
Andra was getting tired, her breath was coming in gasps. She felt like she was being cooked inside her armor, like a fish in her mother’s oven. Sweat from her helmet was running into her eyes, making it difficult for her to see. Then she saw the look on the giants face, he was smiling, he is playing with me, she realized, he can kill me anytime he like
s but he wants to hear the crowd cheering.
The warriors shouted, “Ashra-Doom...Ashra-Doom...Ashra-Doom!”
She watched as the huge warrior lifted his ax and held it up to the cheers of the crowd; I will find a place to bite! Suddenly she pulled her headgear off and threw it to the ground; if I can’t see, I can’t fight!
Kadar had been watching the battle, his conclusion was that the woman was brave and strong, perhaps one Whiptail was enough.
Andra wiped the sweat from her eyes and gripped her ax tightly; I will not be toyed with, I must find a place to bite! She dodged another of the rampaging warrior's fierce blows and moved quickly to a safer corner of the pit. He is wearing me down he is stronger and he will wait until I’m helpless, then move in for the kill but I can still win if I fight hard; she thought.
She remembered something from her soldier's training, something her drill sergeant told her, “Too much confidence can get you killed!” She suddenly knew what to do.
As the lumbering giant came for her, she dropped her ax and fell to the ground, the warriors let out a loud roar, “She is weak,” someone yelled, “Kill her now,” shouted another.
Arn watched as Ashra-Doom held up his ax; she is defeated, she will die; he thought.
He was about to jump into the pit but he realized it was too late; forgive me. Just as he had given her up for dead, Andra burst into action.
In a flash Andra struck, she gripped her ax handle tightly, look for a place to bite; she thought. With all her might, she flung the ax at the giant's exposed neck, it struck just above his chest plate and went deep.
Ashra-Doom let out a loud cry of agony, then he fell to one knee, on grasping his neck. A thick torrent of crimson blood flowed between his thick fingers, soon it gushed down his massive arm, like a wave on the sea. In vain he tried to lift his weapon but it fell from his hand. He made pitiful gurgling sounds, then fell onto the soft sand, he did not move again.
There was a moment of complete silence, then the warriors let out a mighty roar, they screamed out one name, over, and over again, “Andra, Andra, Andra!”
Andra didn't hear them, she was too tired, she lay on the soft ground, breathing the warm air.
Arn stood and cheered with the other warriors, he shouted her name and lifted his war-ax high above his head, she may be an Off-Worlder but she has the favor of the Gods; he thought.