The Fifth Codex (13 page)

“Beaten and kneeling on war-torn

knees within a circle of stone,

The crime committed in plain view,

but he of guilt yet to be known,

A soul this hardened witch seeks to

steal never to meet the Grim’s sight,

Mercy withdrawn, the gift of

magic ready to set things right,

Hear and heed my bold call to

summon forth a most righteous power,

That dwells in the darkest roots of

the world and makes all flesh cower,

Find the silent liar among fools,

who dares inflict such trouble,

Failure to speak, body to stone …

turn this one’s flesh into rubble!”

Silence came first.  Screams came next.  As if a serpent slithered about just beneath the dirt that held the grasses firmly atop it, the ground moved in a terrifying manner.  Begging cries and sobbing whimpers followed every direction this underground serpent moved in.  To the captives it came closest to; they shrieked the loudest.  Its movements at first quick, after many moments, the hidden creature slowed.  Repeatedly, it returned to the one Patremeus guessed was probably the leader.  By how he dressed for battle and that he appeared to be the eldest of the group suggested he was.  Alas, perhaps a few more years would have saved this one from the harsh suffering about to come his way.  He was old enough to lead others, yet not old enough to know when to speak the truth.

The serpent circled around the rocks outside the leader.  In doing so, it made a raised mound two hands tall and then was gone.  The ground moved no more and neither did the others watching this one squirm.  His blood mixed with the mound.  With a sharp sound as if ice shearing, the mound turned to stone.  A slow wave not of water, but hardened malice then moved toward the now discovered liar.  He tried desperately to wiggle himself loose, but this mattered not.  Cynisca’s soldiers had bound him well.

“No, no, no!” he sobbed.  “IT WAS ME!  IT WAS ME!”

Cynisca looked at this body becoming stone not with hatred nor compassion nor anything in between.  A blank stare and quiet words were all she had left to offer.

“So sorry, my good wretch, but it is too late.  Both for you
and
your soul.”

His bottom half now of stone; the curse hardened his waist and began to move upward.  Only the torso, arms, and head remained of flesh.  Gasps from the soldiers who watched circled from one end of the field to the other.  These men and their mystic allies were no doubt relieved to have chosen the winning side.

“
Please no … please … plea
––” were this fool’s last mumbled words.  His jaw turning to stone, the rest of him followed just a few moments later.  Although his eyes became stone like the rest of him, it appeared to Patremeus that it took a good many moments before all life left them.

Silence again pummeled every ear.  After so many shrieks and cries, Patremeus found this quiet unnerving.

As would a child seeing something new, Cynisca gazed in wonder upon her handiwork.  She stood motionless and her eyes showed a softness Patremeus had not seen for many days.  Her face then suddenly turned as hard as the war hammer she swooped down and picked up from her feet.  Eyes burned with fury.  With a screech that hit Patremeus and the soldiers as if shields shoved into them, Cynisca twirled around and smashed the lifeless, still pleading face into shattered shards of stone.  The war hammer had struck true and nothing remained above the liar’s neck.

Quiet about to consume them once more, howls and chants for their victory instead devoured the approaching silence.  Swords and shields pounded into each other.  The song these clashing bronze weapons sang was not of battle, but conquest.  Cynisca’s goal was to unite her kind and unite them she did.  If any still held a shred of doubt, her next words turned these doubts into ash.

“We came into this land many centuries ago as the weakest of all creatures!”  Cynisca withdrew her sword and held it in her left hand.  She still held the war hammer in her right.  “Mere men and women then, we keep these appearances and will always be referred to as such, this is true.  But such words tell
barely half
the tale of our transformed existence.  Our native, virgin skin, weak and fragile, forever shed – good riddance!  The time is now upon us to strive for greatness.  The time has now come to dominate a world ripe and ready for us to dominate.  Cold and calculating, but brilliant; gifted with unnatural long life, but thankful; some of us mystics, all of our kind united – WE ARE SAPIENS!”

Soldiers shouted, cheered, and chanted Cynisca’s name.  Every soldier then gathered around her.  She hugged many of them.  A brotherhood, a sisterhood, a family; they had become what their kind –
all their kind
– should have always been.  It simply took this dynamic witch to make it so.  The night swiftly on its way, Cynisca motioned for some to help Patremeus onto a cart.  Although still in a good deal of pain, he would not miss what he had just witnessed for anything.  Even if death were ready to claim him, it would have to wait a little while longer to do so.  With a kind kiss to his forehead and war hammer laid by his side, Cynisca let her father be.  After she gave instructions to a few others, Patremeus watched as she made her way to her waiting steed.

“And what of the rest?” called one of her faithful soldiers a few pike lengths
[13]
away.

Her back to him, Cynisca continued to walk toward her horse and mounted it.  Only then, did she turn and look upon this soldier.  Next, she gazed upon the nineteen still fleshy faces staring back.  None with the courage to blink, they would surely beg for their lives if the minds that controlled their lips were not so frightened.

“As I did promise to be merciful … swing away with sharp aim and good speed, my friend.  The Grim is waiting.”

*****

Queen Cynisca rode to the crown on the wave of war.  It was now time to enjoy a prosperous peace.  By her will and for the good of all, might and magic had torn through, torn apart, and torn asunder Terra Australis.  The battles won and the dried blood washed away, this broken world needed mending.  And once mended, Cynisca could then mold their world to her liking.

With each crack of her whip, she demanded ever more progress.  Her subjects in this spellbinding form as if mules, Sapiens made immense strides.  Knowledge, and in turn wisdom, that would have taken countless centuries to gather in their former form was learned in a handful of decades.  That which seemed impossible just a few years earlier became only difficult.  Just a handful of years after, what appeared difficult became simple.

As if the gods had given each animal a purpose, some submitted to Sapien will and taming.  Most others found their way to the feasting table.  Brilliant new methods of how to prepare the land for the raising of crops came with each new planting season.  Enterprising miners learned to quarry below ground for metals and jewels while clever architects invented tools and methods to build structures with the near limitless black granite and marble that made up the Guardian Mountains to the east.  With the massive Kauri trees making up the dense Agathis Australis, wood was plentiful and many pursued woodworking.  Entranced by the seas, others built the first fishing ships.  These at first appeared crude, but eager mariners soon excelled at shipbuilding as well.

Two decades after Queen Cynisca’s rule began and over 1,500 strong now wrapped inside her kingdom, the time had come to put sharp minds and broad backs to good use.  Budding greatness required a tidying up of sweeping sorts.  To pursue this, she summoned the wisest and most driven among them.  These two dozen men and women became the first group of nobles, and their queen respected them as such.  Once gathered, Cynisca and her first royal court discussed a number of far-reaching plans and goals.

“Homes, workshops, and other buildings sit scattered anywhere and everywhere.  A great people need a great city!” an elderly noble declared.  His long, flowing robes of blue and white trimmed with red displayed with flair his high rank.

“Sapiens rising – let us build a city worthy enough to rise with us!” another shouted.  Claps and nodding heads followed.

Buildings of mud and wood ready to lay down their lives for those built from granite and marble; the downfall of past random methods was at hand and a new dawn of planned building winked from afar.  The site selected by Cynisca herself, builders would begin work on a true city owning the grandest of plans: Elkabydos.  Set to the north against the sea, the eastern walls of the planned capital would nestle up nicely against the swathe of charming bogs that separated it from the Agathis.  Its western walls would bump up against the lush highlands where giant pandas roamed freely.  To the south rolled the golden prairies of Lapith Fields.  A grand city forthcoming, there was still more to discuss.

“A thirst for both learning and how to apply it sparkles in the eyes of every new life!” another noble announced.  This male was younger than most of the others.  His excited voice talking out of turn and green tunic with black sash said as such.  “As well, a most hurtful hunger rumbles in our bellies to document the history of our kind.  Let us feast so we may quench this thirst!”

“And drink and feast to your heart’s content you shall!” Cynisca agreed.  She had often told Patremeus how she loved such spirit.  In a glacier white stola with threads of gold woven into it, she moved with a fluid purpose, as if ripples of water across the sea.  As she did now, Cynisca often kept her fair hair and arms covered beneath her silk, gold-colored palla.

“I will set forth our most learned to scour the land and collect every text and written work they can find.  One grand structure to house these and bring forth darkened minds into the light – one repository to teach them all!”

A central location for every Sapien to have access to learning judged the highest priority, the Great Repository of Knowledge would be the grand result.

“The capital city of any kingdom needs a palace, of course!” Patremeus declared as he scribed away.  A general no more, soon after becoming queen, Cynisca had chosen him to serve as the first Sapien historian.

“Quite right, Father, quite right,” Cynisca agreed.

This palace complex would also serve as the administrative center of the city.  So all could admire these granite and marble towers from afar, they would be built in the direct center of Elkabydos.  The Great Repository of Knowledge would connect to the western end of the palace.  Structures nothing more than stone and the sweat of labor to meld its blocks together, Cynisca’s
real
reward for uniting the Sapien tribes drew close to her outstretched fingers.

That she had become the most powerful mystic their world had ever seen was by no means random.  Her mother a skilled mystic, but of all their kind, it was Cynisca’s grandmother who first mastered magic fully.  Mysticism ran strongest in certain families.  In addition and more far-reaching, there was one other quirk in regards to the field of charms and trickery: Magical abilities were far more common with females than males.  Soon after the Knowing Time began, a male dominated society quickly transformed into a matriarchal one – Queen Cynisca was simply the finished result of this trend.

For now, most Sapiens failed to see this as much of an issue.  But a few wise others saw a creeping danger to such a gender imbalance and rightly warned as such.  Patremeus and Cynisca had discussed this in private many times.  It became clear to them that a primary duty of both this queen and those regents to follow was, and always would be, to ensure that the world of men appeared as prosperous and rewarding to them as it did for women.  A ruler would be most foolhardy not to keep watch for signs of conflict.  To be wary easily said, such wisdom was easy to dismiss.  And even easier to forget.

“An army trains as one to wage war as a unit,” Cynisca lectured to the nobles.  “Why should we mold sorcerers and sorceresses any differently?  The most gifted wielders of magic need to be brought together and be in constant league with their own!”

Deafening applause shook the room.

“A guild of mystics is needed to match the glory of our realm,” more than one noble declared.  “You have our blessing, my queen.  Make it so!”

For Cynisca, there could be no sweeter words.  She had long ago planned and formed the rules for a sweeping concept: the Magic Guild of the Sapien Realm.  To house such ambition, they would build a temple not to the gods, but to the most gifted among them.  Set behind the palace on the other side of a wide avenue, architects swiftly set to work.  The goal simple but the vision grand, builders would make this the tallest, most spacious structure in Elkabydos.

Upon swearing to dedicate their lives to perfecting their magical gifts, members of this magic guild faced the prospect of shorter lives, but this would be for the benefit of their race.  There could be no higher calling.  As mostly females stood ready to fill these positions, there was an additional benefit to this.  The masses would see and be pleased that those of the softer gender – not only males who made up the army – put themselves in danger for the greater good.  Cynisca dearly hoped that such shared sacrifice would help temper brimming male versus female tensions.  At least that was the plan.

Soon after this first gathering of nobles, Queen Cynisca married.  Her husband was referred to as a king and given all the proper pomp and privilege, but of who dominated the other there was little question.  For married rulers of the future, however, such defined roles would most likely be less clear.  Just as well, a man as king could certainly become the dominate monarch.

Fully aware of this, Cynisca sought to tip the scales a bit.  Quite a lot, actually.  In the years ahead and through sheer talent, she foresaw that the Magic Guild would become powerful, influential, and perhaps even able to act as an ally against a regal husband who craved power.  For her,
this
was the greatest, truest purpose of the Magic Guild of the Sapien Realm.  Power struggles were near certain.  Mystic might, Cynisca believed, was even more so.  For the one who held sway over the Magic Guild would hold sway over all.  There were no rules, however, as to how one might earn such control.