Heresy: The Book of Mammon

Chapter 29

Chapter 29



It took an eternity, but they finally reached the lands of Xalimfal. Lady Elaine waited as Rialev, Papal, Judaes and a handful of crewmates and officers disembarked from the dirigible. The ship had been her home for over a fortnight and she was thankful to finally feel the earth beneath her feet once more. Though the frozen lands offered no comfort to her, the ground felt good. It didn’t shift, or sway in the breeze but was solid and firm. Finally, she felt the touch of the earth once more.

The crowd of men and women that gathered swelled to a great sea of faces. All around her, the people of Xalimfal stood in a trance as they looked on. She’d never seen people like this before. Not one of them stood shorter than her. Though she never considered herself to be tall, she knew she was taller than most women of the north. She was little more than a trump in comparison to these people. The men of the group all graced dark, curly beards that fell from their chins to the bottoms of their chest, and the women all tied their hair in intricate weaves.

Heavy fur cascaded down the backs of each of them, and thick leather boots were bound to their feet by sinew straps. Weapons glinted in the cold glow of the moonlight, and as she eyed the throng of people, she began to feel uneasy. It wasn’t at all wise to simply arrive in a land with no invitation or notice. For as much as she assumed, these people knew little if not nothing of Lokken. She was not at all worldly, but she knew that different places held different views. They could very well embrace them or kill them on sight. Though none of them carried themselves as though they were going to attack, the mass of blades and guns still flooded her thoughts.

They were strong looking folk, but they held themselves low, as though all the strength they had, was stolen away. Their faces were ashen, and frail, and bones jutted from beneath exposed skin. She knew their troubles. They were starving. In a land as inhospitable as this, she imagined that famine was not a far off possibility.

Mumbles and calls echoed through the howling wind as the last of the crew climbed down the rope ladder that dangled from the rail of the ship. They took their time in climbing down, though the dirigible was barely off the ground, such a fall would certainly cause injury if not death. She herself, forced herself down the rope ladder. She was not at all partial to heights, and the way it twisted and shifted in the wind was enough to make her cling to it with all her strength. She knew though, that she couldn’t. They had come to seek their aid, and such a task could not be done while clinging to a rope.

Rialev and Papal trudged through the snow as the ground crunched beneath their feet. They stood at either side of her, with their eyes never averting from the crowd. Each of them rested their hands upon the butt stocks of their pistols as they stood. Though these people showed no sign of hostility, she knew they felt the same apprehension as she.

Her eyes came to rest upon the tallest man she could see. He stood in front with his hand resting on a sword that was longer than her leg. She could only imagine the strength needed to wield such a weapon. He wore the head of a bear over his own. Its top jaw stabbed its white fangs before his face, and his eyes were all she could see beneath the cowl. Heavy gray fur draped over his shoulders and fell to the snow. Though it was a rough looking ensemble, it carried with it the look of regal beauty. These people were as close to the natures of the world as could be, and he was as noble as the lone wolf in the moonlight.

Beside him, a woman stood. She was far shorter than the rest in comparison, and close to equal height with her. Straight red hair fell from beneath her furred hood and glowed like embers in the light of the moon. She could be her twin. She knew nothing of these people, but she could tell, this woman was not one of them. Leather strips hung from her neck, teeth and claws were woven into their elegance and glowed with intensity in the dark light. Feathers adorned the braids of her hair, and were tied at the ends to hang over her chest. Heavy green cloth covered her from shoulder to ankle, and was strapped at her waist with a black leather belt. The buckle shimmered like moonlit silver and she could not draw her eyes from it. Whoever this woman was, she wore the same metal that the seal was cast from. If they were looking for someone that knew of the mysteries of the world, she knew, this woman was the one.

Rialev’s hand tapped her side and he nodded toward her. He too knew this was the person they sought. She felt waves of relief come over her as her eyes scanned the rest of them. They had found what they were looking for, or so she hoped.

The tallest one with the bear headdress marched through the snow toward them. She felt her own pistol beneath her palms, and her muscles tightened as he came. His feet fell to the snow like boulders as he walked, his hands held outward at his sides. She was not sure, but she thought it was a gesture of kindness. He was showing them that he was unarmed, despite the great sword that hung at his side.

His dark eyes fell upon her as he made his way toward them. Fear crawled through her limbs as his gaze burned into her. He fell to his knees in the snow before her, and looked up at her. His eyes carried the sadness and relief of the teeming hundreds behind him. She knew he was their leader, and through his eyes, she could feel the weight of his burden. Deep wrinkles folded into his weather beaten face, and hardened skin revealed itself from beneath the cowl. His arms wrapped around her legs as tight as a vice and she felt her hand tighten around the butt stock of her pistol.

“Thank the gods you’ve come!” His voice was ragged and deep. It carried as much pride as it did sorrow as it howled through the ruckus of the onlookers. “I’ve prayed all I could, and pleaded every request I could make. No answers came. I thought we would die here.”

First Officer Fasad rushed to her side and stared down at the man before her. She tried to squirm out of his tight grip, but even in starved weakness, she was no match for his strength. He looked up once more, and recoiled from her. “Forgive me.” His eyes averted to the snow.

“Get these people some food!” Fasad’s voice howled through the wind, and the crew scattered about, calling orders up at the ship.

Their numbers were staggering, but she knew they carried enough supplies to outfit nearly an entire army. They could spare some to help these people. She knelt down to the snow and placed a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry if I startled you.”

He looked up at her once more. “It wasn’t my place to do such a thing.” He stood and towered over her. “Forgive me, Valkyrie, but I’m more than thankful that you’ve come.”

Valkyrie? What was a Valkyrie? She’d never heard the term. Did he think her to be some kind of divine being? She forced herself to smile.

“Come!” He motioned for her and those behind her to follow him. The crowd split as though it were sliced with a knife as he walked through. He continued to motion for them, and slowly, she felt herself push forward.

Rialev gripped her shoulder and he leaned in close. “Whatever it is you’re doing, keep doing it.”

She didn’t know what she was doing. Still, if they were going to help them, it didn’t hurt for them to think she was more than what she was.

***************

The filth that littered the streets was enough to turn her stomach. Lady Elaine had felt sick since shortly after they took to the skies, and the smell of such disgusting living conditions fueled her nausea. She knew she had no fever or other illness that she was aware of, but she could not help but be aware of her ever churning stomach.

People were scattered throughout the wooden buildings. Some lay upon small fur beds, huddled against the onslaught of the chilling winds. Others gathered around small fires and stew pots, and others lay lifeless in the cold snow. She’d never seen so many people in such terrible hardship. The people of Ecclesia had struggled against the plague, but it was nothing like this. These people struggled against nature itself. There were not enough buildings to hold them all, and they did what they could to survive. It pained her to see such hardship.

She turned her eyes from the chaos around her to the peaked roofs of the homes and buildings. They were fascinating in design. Every plank and board was carved with intricate patterns. They weaved in and out of each other like braided ribbons. Other boards were carved to resemble the heads of wolves or bears, and other still, were carved like things she’d never seen. They were hideous looking things, with sharp fangs, and long snouts. Scales covered their heads like a suit of armor. Whatever they were, she hoped they weren’t real.

Grass roofs atop the buildings were falling apart under the weight of the pressing snow. It was the first grass roof she’d seen since Duraine. Whoever these people were, she knew they were quite poor. For only those of the most distinct economic misfortunes thatched their roofs.

She felt eyes fall upon her as the crowd followed them through the streets. The tall man rambled on about things, but she did not pay attention. Her thoughts were ever focused on the woman that walked at his side.

They came to the largest building that stood tall in the center of the city. Its great structure towered over them as she took in its beauty. The wood was rough, but incredible in craft. Their carvings were like the one she saw in the underhalls of Lokken. Rather than simple designs and animals, the portrait of Xalimfal was bore into the surface. Men and women stood beneath the blazing light of the sun that loomed over them. They all carried banners and flags, swords and spears. Boats sailed the seas and came to distant shores. It told of trade and diplomacy. It told of war and hardship. Looking at its elegant magnificence, she learned their story.

She wished to linger, and admire the beauty of it all, but the man urged them into the great building. Large wooden doors split in the center and he pulled them open. The warmth of fire surged through the opening as she stepped through into the dim, dusty light of the hall. There were no rooms in this place, nor were there corridors. Only a great round hall was sheltered beneath the high roof above. Though snow managed to breech through the grass that served as its roof, she welcomed the shelter against the elements.

Long tables sat upon large furs that stretched across the floor. Their tops were polished in high shine, and shimmered in the dancing firelight. The chairs were equally elegant, and like all other wood of the city, had their own intricate designs carved within their surface. Heads of wolves, bears, and the beasts she saw outside stared down upon the tables from above. Their wood heads were all that showed that they were not real.

The tall man walked between the tables to a great chair that sat at the opposite end of the room. It was carved to show the great beasts of the sea. Fish, whales, and other denizens of the deep all wove themselves into the arms and legs of the throne. Furs draped the back and seat of it and their dark gray elegance stood in perfect compliment to the dark woods of the building.

He lowered himself into the chair and the woman stood at his side. The two scanned them back and forth. She wished to speak, but something in her kept her quiet. Her gaze met the stares of the woman. Fire glowed deep beneath the icy blue eyes that took her in and she felt the calculations of an experienced woman delving into her mysteries. It was a violating feeling to say the least, but she could do nothing about it. She knew nothing of these people, and stepping beyond her welcome was not something she would risk. These people were the only help they would find, and she would not destroy a potential alliance by being rude.

“Welcome to my city.” His voice boomed through the towering walls of the hall. “I am Baard. Warlord of the Hunsvald clan.” He motioned toward the woman at his side. “This is Haggra the Gothi, our priestess in these lands, and my consort.”

Haggra bowed low, but her eyes remained fixed on her.

“Thank you Warlord Baard.” She stepped forward and bowed equally low. “I am Elaine, and these are my guardians.” She motioned toward the men behind her. “Rialev the Expurgator, Judaes the Exarch, and Papal the Monsignor.” It felt strange using their former titles, but she felt it more formal.

“And your title?” Haggras voice rose above hers.

Lady Elaine nearly jumped out of her skin as she spoke. Why did she fear this woman?

“Your title Elaine?”

“Vicar Forane.” She bowed once more to the two before them.

“And where do you come from?” Her voice carried dull daggers with it.

“They come from the heavens, Haggra. They are Valkyries.” His eyes turned to the woman.

“Baard –“

“What else could they be?”

“We are from the deserts of Lokken.” Papal’s voice startled her as equal as Haggra. “We are not Valkyries or anything of the sort. We are here on errand to request your aid.”

Waves of hot rage flowed through her. She did not like lying to the people that showed them their welcome, but she knew it was the only advantage they had in swaying their support.

Baard shifted in his seat, and leaned toward them. His face was grim; angry. “Errand from whom?”

“The free peoples of Arlia.” She spoke before Papal had a chance.

“The free peoples of Arlia? Are we not all free?” His eyebrow raised as he asked.

“Warlord Baard, we come from Lokken, but we are of Ecclesian descent. We’ve come to seek your aid in defense of their army.”

He sat back in his chair and stroked his beard. His eyes turned to Haggra, but she did not speak. Their silence was a conversation of itself.

“Tell us of this army.” Haggra motioned for them to sit as she spoke. She plopped herself onto the floor beside the great throne. Still, her eyes remained fixed to her.

Lady Elaine sighed. She readied herself for long explanations and the ever piercing eyes of the Gothi woman. This would be a long night.