Arnulf the Destroyer (4 page)

Silently Yodis undressed and stood still as Oron walked around him with a Shivuk branch, whispering special prayers.  Then the shaman painted symbols over his naked body.  These were special, more powerful than the ones painted on the other boys.  It would take powerful magic to see the gods and not be destroyed.

Oron led his naked disciple to the fire that blazed in the massive pit.  He turned Yodis slowly so that he faced one idol, then the next, all the way around the semi-circular wall until he looked at all of the thirteen gods.  Tonight, one of the gods would choose him, Yodis would become an acolyte and begin learning the deeper secrets of the shaman’s’s lore.

A cloud of dust rose up as Oron reached into his pouch and pulled out a handful of the ground Shivuk bark. Yodis squatted and leaned out over the fire.  Sparks flew up as Oron cast the dust into the flames.  The fire crackled and a red cloud of smoke billowed up.

Yodis leaned forward and inhaled the musky smoke for the first time.  He quickly jerked back in a coughing fit, his lungs protesting the strange smoke.

Yodis forced himself forward again and breathed in another cloud of the sacred smoke.  He inhaled deeply, more prepared for the shock on his system.  His body still wracked with a violent cough.

A third and final time Yodis leaned forward and breathed deeply of the crimson smoke.  This time he didn’t cough.  He leaned back and held the smoke in as long as he could before exhaling the cloud into the night air.

He felt the effects almost immediately.  The world around him began to spin and dizziness struck him at the same time with a rippling euphoria.  It was not an altogether unpleasant sensation except for the sudden disorientation that caused panic to surge through him.  Yodis reached out to take hold of something, anything that would offer stability in a world that had become suddenly unstable.

“Relax,” came the words of Oron from across an impossible distance.  “Do not fight the power of the smoke.  You must allow it to carry you off.”

Yodis tried to relax as the spinning in his head increased so much that he had to close his eyes.  In the darkness he felt himself being lifted up and pulled out of Numa Din, hurled into the depths of the strange night.  Fear begged that he reach out and pull himself back down.  Yodis barely resisted the urge and allowed himself to be lifted up higher and higher into the reaches of heaven.

Only when Yodis finally felt the rising stop did he dare to open his eyes.  At first he thought the ritual had failed.  He found himself still sitting on the stone floor of the sacred place, the fire blazing warm and powerful in front of him.

He quickly noticed the change.  For one, Oron was gone.  Yodis sat alone.  He jumped up and looked around, unable to see the forest around him.  Instead, the stone space ended in a wall of thick and impenetrable night.  Even above him no stars appeared, only the dreadful pall of darkness.  The thought struck him that he could not see the stars because now he was among them.

Movement caught his eye.  He stepped back seeing all over the top of the wall the idols stirring to life.  No longer covered in stone the gods moved about with features as distinct and real as any man.  Yodis moved further away, feeling the eyes of the gods follow him as he moved.

Without warning a giant hand shot down and snatched up Yodis.  Before he knew what was happening he found himself being looked over by the deep and ponderous eyes of Keltis, father god of the dawn and sky.  The gaze seemed to search him thoroughly, peering deep into his heart.  The elder god leaned in and sniffed at Yodis, then with a bellow tossed him into the air.

A scream ripped through Yodis’ lips as he was hurled into blackness.  Just as he thought he would smash into the ground another giant hand snatched him up and another intense eye looked him over.  This time it was the bulging eyes of Laki that inspected him.  In the flesh the weird gaze disturbed Yodis even more as he could make out the red veins that stood out on the giant eye.  Another sniff and Yodis was tossed into the air again.

The harrowing ritual continued with Yodis being inspected by the gods, waiting for one to choose him.  Throughout the pantheon he was passed, made to suffer beneath many stern and fearful gazes. 

From Cotl he could almost hear the wise ponderings from beneath his deep and furrowed brow.  Shota terrified him as her blood-shot eyes searched him over, as if she were appraising the fitness of a meal.  Yet none terrified him more than the dark gaze of Sifli, though Yodis could not help but admire her haunting and irresistible beauty.  But she too hurled him away and he was caught up by the fertility goddess.

From Yana emanated the fragrance of a thousand flowers all at once that sent heat pulsing through his loins.  She too tossed him aside after looking him over.  Falling from there into Yena’s hands, the great earth mother, he looked into what must have been the handsomest face he had ever seen.  She quickly threw him to Asher, god of the flame, whose eyes blazed with fire and wrath.  Yodis was grateful to be tossed away from him and into the palm of Sithi, who smiled beautifully at Yodis and stroked his face.  She drew him close and pursed her lips as if she were about to kiss him.  A thrill coursed through Yodis as he realized he was about to be chosen and would be touching Sithi’s soft and full lips.

“YODIS!” a rumbling voice sounded that shook the air.

Sithi’s eyes opened wide in alarm and fear.  She threw Yodis down and disappeared in an instant.  Barely could he even scream out his own fear when he landed hard on the stone floor of the sacred place.

“Yodis!” the deep voice called out again.

Picking himself up from the floor Yodis looked up at the Faceless One who swayed at the top of the wall, hands still covering his face.  Yodis trembled, fearful the god might remove his hands and kill him with a glance.

“Here I am,” Yodis answered, his voice shaking as he spoke.

“Yodis, I have chosen you,” the Faceless One boomed.  Yodis could feel his whole body shake with the power of that voice.

“I long to let my face shine upon your tribe!”

“Please don’t” Yodis pled.  “For your servant knows that to behold your face is death.  What have I done to displease you?”

“To behold my face is the light of blessing,” the Faceless One said.  “I long to bestow a glory upon you, but only if you would heed my voice.  It is my heart to make this tribe a great nation, to be the father of kings.”

Yodis didn’t understand a thing the Faceless One said to him.  His fear blocked out any understanding he might have of the strange words.  He hesitated, not knowing what he should do, only trembling in silence.  Finally, his training seeped back into fevered brain and knew the proper words.

“Speak, for your servant listens,” Yodis was barely able to squeak out.

The Faceless One stood up.  For a moment Yodis feared the god might remove his mighty hands and strike him down right there.  But the face remained covered.

Instead, the Faceless One shook his head and a shower of stars danced all around him, streaking through the sky in a blaze of brilliant color.  He stomped his feet and the ground shook, trembling the earth to its foundations.  Lightning flashed all around him and pillars of fire rose up on either side of the towering figure.  Winged creatures sprung up from out of his robes and circled the god in arcs of light.  The voice of music echoed all around, an earthy, sonorous sound that brought tears to Yodis’ eyes.

“You must destroy the idols!” the Faceless One grimly intoned.

Though deathly frightened of the mysterious god, Yodis knew he could never do such a thing.

“Those are our gods,” Yodis weakly argued.  “The shaman will never permit me to destroy them.”

“If I am to be your god then you must have no others!” the Faceless one answered.  “Destroy the idols and I will bless you.”

“But who am I to do such a thing?” Yodis cried out.  “They will never believe that the gods demanded this.”

“You must!” the Faceless One insisted.

“They will never let me!”

“Here is my seal!” the god intoned.

Yodis’ forehead exploded in pain.  A hot, searing sensation burned into his flesh.  He screamed out and grabbed his head, only to have his hands seared by the same fire.

“Yodis!” the god thundered down.  “Destroy the idols!  Destroy them all!  Do this and you will be blessed!”

The pain in his head spread out over his entire body.  He felt as if there was fire running through his veins.  He heard himself cry out but his voice sounded distant and weak.

“Yodis!” he heard another voice call out to him, one that sounded vaguely familiar.

“Yodis!  Yodis!” it continued urgently. 

The sacred place shook and Yodis was hurled off into the starless night.  He momentarily forgot his pain as he plummeted to the earth and a new panic took over him.

“Yodis!” Oron cried out to him, shaking his young apprentice.

The shaman’s face loomed over Yodis.  He jerked up suddenly, the place on his forehead still throbbing.  Frantically he looked around, taking in the familiar surroundings of Numa Din.

“Come, sit,” the shaman said as he gently took him by the shoulders and sat him down again.

“What happened?” Yodis breathed, still disoriented from the strange journey.

“You pulled a coal from the fire and placed it on your head,” the shaman told him.  He wet a small cloth and dabbed it on Yodis’ forehead.

Yodis welcomed the cool relief of the wet cloth.  He said nothing for a while though desperate to speak to his mentor.  Too much had happened for him to make sense of alone.

“Did any of the gods choose you?” the shaman finally asked.

Yodis nodded.  His voice wouldn’t work.  Instead he pointed to the statue of the Faceless One from across the space.

Oron looked at the statue for a long moment before turning again to regard Yodis.  He studied him with a long and curious stare that Yodis could not fathom.  Silently, he pulled some dried leaves from a pouch and began mixing a poultice.

“This is strange indeed,” Oron told him as he crushed leaves in the palm of his hand.  “Never has the Faceless One chosen a shaman.”

“He told me this was his seal,” Yodis said, pointing to his forehead as if to prove what he spoke was true.

Oron looked closely at the mark on Yodis’ forehead then gently dabbed the salve into the wound.

“It looks like powerful magic,” the shaman said as he applied the poultice.

“He told me to destroy the idols,” Yodis said, hoping for advice from the wise one.

But the shaman had no words for him.  Even for the rest of that night and next day Oron hardly spoke to his new acolyte.  He would look at Yodis sometimes with an unreadable expression.  But every so often, Yodis would see in those eyes the unmistakable resemblance of fear.

Several weeks passed before Oron addressed the issue.  They were pealing bark from the Shivuk tree when the shaman  mentioned it.

“I have decided the Faceless One is testing you,” Oron said, concentrating on the bark.

At first Yodis didn’t answer.  His eyes watched the shaman’s hands, delicately separating bark from tree, careful to keep it all intact.  Inside, his mind was stirring.  He let the question tumble around before it became too much to keep in.

“What is he testing me about?” Yodis finally voiced.

“He is testing your resolve, to see if you would really carry out a deed so blasphemous.”

“Is it blasphemous to do something a god tells you to do?” Yodis asked,  confused by the answer of the shaman.

“Say no more about this,” Oron sighed.  Yodis could hear the irritation in his voice.

They never spoke of it again.

Three times that year Yodis partook of the Shivuk bark.  All three times he soared up to the Numa Din in the heavens.  All three times it was empty except for the towering figure of the Faceless One who loomed over the sanctuary.

Fear overcame Yodis at seeing the massive god.  His knees would give way and he fell to his face, trembling, praying that the awful vision would leave him alone.

“Destroy the idols!” the Faceless One would thunder from above.  “Destroy the idols so my blessing might descend upon here!”

Yodis would never answer the god.  He couldn’t even look at him.  The lightning and thunder, the shaking of the ground, the stars plummeting from the heavens, the winged creatures, even the sweet strain of music that echoed about the sanctuary; it was all too much for him to bear.  It took all of Yodis’ will to keep his face to the ground and try not to let the voice that shook him to his very depths consume him body and soul.

“Destroy the idols!” the Faceless One would boom, each time more angry than before.

That year the rains dried out again.  Only a few times during the wet season did the skies open up and pour down its nourishment onto the jungle.  The People looked up at the sky nervously and prayed for rains that wouldn’t come.

Later in the dry season the first baby died and the People grew anxious.  Oron went up to the sacred place almost every day.  He inhaled the smoke of the Shivuk bark to ask the gods why they punished the People.  But the gods would not speak to him.  Oron returned from his spirit walks and wept for the fate of the tribe.

“Why won’t the gods speak?” Yodis asked everyday that Oron returned without and answer.

“They must be very angry,” Oron would answer with a sad shake of his head.  “We must have done something terrible to offend them.”

Yodis could not help but harbor the thought that he was at fault.  Was it because he did not heed the Faceless One that the rains had dried up?  Or was it that the Faceless One had chosen him, and this angered the other gods?  Either way Yodis could hardly stomach the thought.

He spoke none of these fears aloud.  The shaman, he knew, did not want to speak of the Faceless One.  So Yodis kept it all in and let it waste away inside him.

Later that year a fire swept through the jungle.  It didn’t touch the People but the smoke filled the sky for days.  Another tribe, the Anzi, had all of their lands burned up.  They took whatever they had left and moved on, looking for other lands.