CITY OF THE GODS: FORGOTTEN (57 page)

 
“I have one request if they are to stay here tonight,” Aigeiros interjected. “They need to bathe, especially the man. He smells of death.
 
There is even the blood of the dead on his clothing.”

Ptelea turned angrily on her sister, “Could you not have found a more polite manner to make such a request?” They exchanged hostile glares while D’Molay observed them closely. Ptelea then tried to smooth things over. “My apologies, but I must ask that you wash yourselves and your clothes in the pool over there before you sleep.” She pointed to the pool of clear water in the corner.

D’Molay was annoyed at the way he’d been accused of smelling like a dead animal, but it was true he had killed a man just yesterday. The Mayan’s dried blood was still on his shirt sleeves and pants. He guessed that the dryads were more sensitive to such things and decided to not allow Aigeiros’ demand to anger him. Instead, he took the diplomatic route. “I would welcome the chance to wash up. We have traveled by carriage, on boat and on an elephant. I’m sure we could use some cleaning,” he said agreeably.
 

“Sisters, it is late afternoon and we still have to feed our trees before dark,” Ptelea said to the rest of the dryads.
 
The sisters agreed and said their goodbyes to the visitors, then faded into the walls, leaving only D’Molay, Aavi and Ptelea in the chamber.

“I’ll let you clean up and rest. Food will be provided, and I shall return in the morning to give you the seed and go over the details of the task. Then we will summon the stags and send you on your way. The large fungus growing over there makes the most comfortable beds you may ever sleep on.” She pointed to a patch of low-growing fungus in the corner opposite from the spring pool.
  

“Thank you, Ptelea.
 
It will be nice to sleep comfortably.
 
Last night we slept on the hard deck of a ship in the chill night air,” D’Molay said.

 
“The boat smelled like fish. That was the worst part. It smells like fresh rain and wood in here, much nicer,” added Aavi.
 

“Sleep well.” Ptelea faded into the wall and disappeared, leaving the chamber to Aavi and D’Molay.
 

D’Molay stripped down to his loin cover. The water was cool and clear as he stepped into the pool. Tiny fish darted away as he waded over the sandy bottom looking for a good place to sit down. He found a boulder that had been smoothed down by constant flow of water and lowered his body onto it.

“Woo, cold!
 
But it will be good to get clean. Do you want to wash, Aavi?”
 
Then he realized that the question was meaningless as she never got dirty.

Hamadryad

Digital Alteration of
Echo and Narcissus
(John William Waterhouse, 1903).

Mars was burning in the sky over the realms. The searing red ball of fire passed over the City in a determined transit. It was a star among stars.
 
Slaves ran to the shelter of their quarters as it passed overhead. Most priests silenced their prayers lest they offend and draw down the red wrath of War. Gods turned keen eyes to the burning sphere to mark its movements and react if needed. There were few, from tiny animals that recoiled instinctively from the thing in the sky to powerful demigods who dared not raise their swords even to salute, who did not pay attention to Mars.

But there were some.

Set’s army, the massive assembly of crocodilians, reanimated warriors, and fire jackals ignored the far-off fire in the sky. True to their orders, they let no distraction slow them. The force that had poured out of Set’s secret pyramid had already left Egyptos and crossed the Wur River into Babylonia. The world seemed turned upside down as Mars was transfixed by mere minions on the ground instead of those under-beings gazing up at him in wonder.

He was intrigued by the sight of the large army. From his place in the sky, he could immediately count their forces and predict their movements. The Egyptian foot soldiers kept to the easy ground, taking no care to disguise their presence. Nor were they stopping to kill or loot, which is something Mars would certainly have encouraged had his men been invading the lush riches of Babylonia. When defensive charioteers poured out from Uruk, flanking several hundred of the mummies, the rest of the Egyptians just kept moving, leaving the undead to deal with the defenders. Mars was impressed by the daring strike by Egyptos. He had heard no talk of invasion when he last conferred with Zeus about the state of wars between the realms.

Leaving Uruk, the army swept to the northeast toward the borders of the Middle Realm. Mars burned with excitement, anticipating a great clash of arms when the Egyptians tried to pass between the strongholds of Avalon and Charlemagne’s castle. However, he was surprised when the army’s progress was suddenly interrupted as they neared the Tower of Babel.

The first legion of crocodilians stumbled, clutching their heads as a torrent of unintelligible words exploded from the tower. A deafening cacophony of magical pejoratives worked to weaken the soldiers close enough to hear the babble clearly. A crocodilian general several ranks back pivoted his lines away before they could be attacked by the tower’s commands. These soldiers pressed southwest, seeking another path out of Babylonia. All of these things Mars watched with great interest, but there was something even more compelling that did not escape his notice. A pillar of dust was traveling in the midst of the forces. The whirling cloud was keeping a low profile, skimming through the ranks of the chariots, hiding in the sprays of dust kicked up by their wheels. Mars knew another god when he saw one, and was intrigued by the stealthy manner in which this one was traveling.

The main portion of the army evaded the Tower of Babel’s trap. It now skirted the Lake of Lamasthu. Mars was not surprised when the mistress of the realm rose immediately from her watery enclave to confront the invaders. He watched eagerly. Lamasthu was not one to let trespassers off with a warning. His heart burned at the prospect of battle carnage. His bloodlust was not slaked, for Lamasthu merely allowed the army to trample past her border and into the Middle Realm. All the forces save one moved on toward Charlemagne’s Castle. The single remaining Egyptian, the one who had hidden in the swirling sands, stopped in front of Lamasthu. The particles in the diffuse cloud knitted together, taking shape. The dust storm grew denser and took the form of a dark being. Moments later, Mars realized that being was Set.

“I knew you would be treacherous,” Lamasthu accused after Set’s transformation was complete. “This was not as we discussed. Yet you dare to run your vermin across my desert.”

Set folded his arms, which were still aching and recovering. “Have you ever heard that it is easier to get forgiveness than permission, Lamasthu?” Set said seductively. “We are allies, are we not? My armies take time to move, and we both know that what has passed by today is no threat to you. You could crush them in an instant, yet out of your fondness for me you stay your hand.”

Lamasthu laughed scornfully. “Do not flirt with me, Set. I know what lurks beneath your dark attractions.”

“As you should, being bewitchingly desirable yourself,” Set went on, just to irritate her. His flirtatious banter was all part of his scheme to keep her focused on his words so she would not notice his injuries. “However, I accept your temporary spurning of my advances. More important that we speak of the girl and the beast. We’re almost out of time.”

“We? Your unannounced attack suddenly includes me?” Lamasthu undulated, shaking water from her tentacle-bedecked form. The sprays fell upon Set, where they vaporized instantly from the heat lingering on his skin from his transformation. He took care not to flinch from the sting of it.

“Of course it does. We have always been allies in this matter. Why else would I come directly to you on my way?” Set wondered if Lamasthu was falling for any of his sweet talk. He had actually hoped to avoid her entirely, but with that option gone, enlisting her in a coordinated attack had been his alternate plan.

“Yes, you always work so well with others,” Lamasthu said sarcastically. “Might I ask where our other partner, Quetzalcoatl, is?” She gave him an innocently inquiring look, which held only for a moment on her jaded face before she dissolved into laughter. “He is either drunk on his cacao water, or racing you to the prize. Neither he nor I is as foolish as you think.”

Choosing not to address her speculations, Set decided to do what he could to win Lamasthu to his side. “If he has moved without us, who then is your enemy, Lamasthu?”

“Everyone is my enemy,” Lamasthu said offhandedly. “Some of them are more useful than others, however. Since you have come to me freely, I will allow you to act the part of friend for the time being. My forces will join yours at the Fortress of Ares.”

In the sky, Mars blazed in brilliant anger at the mention of his stronghold in Greece. The ball of fire flashed across the sky, its destination the Council Hall of the City of the Gods.

Before he could pass the sentinels at the gate, Mars was commanded to shed his fiery aspect, a look he had crafted when the contentious men of Rome had fueled his powers many eons past. The guardians of the City, in light of a recent incident in the Egyptian quarter, were taking no chances of another conflagration igniting and destroying people and property. Gods of fire, and any other deities with explosive aspects they could not shield, were temporarily banned. Mars viewed this attempt to keep the City safe as pitiful. By the guardians’ reasoning, his tame sister Hestia, keeper of the home hearth, was as great a danger as he. Nevertheless, when he stood for the guardians he did so as Ares, in the form of a mighty man.

As the sentinel’s reflective crystal pillar scanned him, Ares noticed that his short dark hair could benefit from fresh oil, and that one of his studded vambraces could do with a polish. His chest was bare, but his natural muscles were as good as armor against all but the most powerful adversaries. He hardly expected to find any foes worth battling in the grand halls of the Council. He judged it a haven for scheming academics and useless poets. They thought they ran the City, but for the most part had little idea what was really going on in the realms.

“Tell him I’m here,” Ares growled at a pair of curvaceous female attendants draped over couches outside Zeus’ private chamber in the Council hall. One of them slunk away as commanded. The other pouted when Ares ignored what passed in the nymph’s mind as seductive wiggling. To the war god, she was as tempting as a common worm.

Zeus appeared a few minutes later. He looked into his son’s eyes, still glowing flame-like from his recent transformation. Ares never visited unless his news was dark and serious. Minor problems he solved for himself, in his own way. Zeus noticed Ares was not wearing the full complement of his armor. He must have come in a hurry.

“Ares, my son, good to see you. Bring him refreshment,” Zeus commanded the nymphs.

“Send them all away, Father,” Ares countered. “This isn’t for their ears.”

“As you wish.” Zeus raised his voice to command his fawning attendants. “Leave us.”

The nymphs poured out of Zeus’ chamber. Five, nine - after fifteen, Ares lost count. His father’s tastes had not changed since ancient times. “I see that having a seat on the Council takes no time away from your hobbies,” Ares remarked disapprovingly.

“I doubt you came here to discuss my private life,” Zeus chuckled.

“I did not,” Ares said, coming bluntly to the point. “That beast you enjoined me to hold is being sought by Set, Lamasthu and Quetzalcoatl. I have seen an Egyptian army on its way to attack us, and heard Lamasthu pledge her creatures to Set for his attack.”