Chapter XXXIII

Ardal couldn't help but glance back at the city of Bogeid every few minutes, each time more nervously than last time. After the battle, in which Val decimated the attacking Arxian army without losing a single comrade, Galia had asked to go out and provide healing to those in the field who were still dying from their wounds. Val rejected this at first, said that the soldiers out there deserved to die, and accused her of trying to find a way to escape. Ardal offered to watch Galia, to make sure she couldn't escape to tell other Arxians Bogeid's weaknesses. Val agreed, but as the soldiers on Bogeid's walls, all armed with longbows, watched Galia and Ardal in the field, Ardal grew nervous that one of them would “mistake them for Arxian scouts.”

The sight before Galia was nearly as horrible as Bogeid had been after the night of the Violet Blaze. That night had been so horrible that the children had composed a new, macabre song in its honor.

“Purple flames!

Purple flames!

Burning all the bad men away!

Are you bad?

Are you bad?

You've made the guardian daemons mad!

Fill the urn!

Fill the urn!

With ashes of the bad ones burned!

Purple flames!

Purple flames!

Burning all bad men away!”

Undoubtedly someone had told them that everyone who'd burned that night deserved to die. That idea was much easier to accept than the reality; that Bogeid was now under a new group of vicious oppressors. It was like the city was cursed to forever be in the hands of those who burned people alive to get their way.

A fog rolled in, making the field seem even bleaker than it already was. Crows gathered, picking meat off the bodies of the dead. As Galia searched the field for survivors she heard the sound of one of the crows choking. Apparently the crow had eaten the flesh of one of those who'd died from the poison smoke, and the poison was still in the soldier's blood stream. The crow convulsed on the ground, gagged, and coughed up blood. No sooner had the crow died, than other crows began to eat that one.

Galia was so distracted by the shock of this wild cannibalism that she almost didn't hear the yelp of one of the soldiers nearby. Apparently said soldier had survived the slaughter, and a crow was pecking at his face. He flailed his arms, trying to shoo the bird away. Ardal ran over and yelled, “Yah! Get out of here! Plenty of dead for you to eat!” The crow squawked loudly, flapped its wings, and flew off.

Galia walked over to the soldier. His legs were pinned to the ground by a dead horse, and his back arched over the body of one of the other soldiers. “Help me get this horse off of him!” Galia shouted at Ardal.

Ardal didn't hesitate, he immediately ran over and helped her. Neither of them were quite strong enough to lift the horse, but they managed to get enough pressure off of the soldier's legs so that he could slide himself out from under it. Groaning in agony, he pushed himself out from under the horse, only to realize that while his legs were in pain from the knee up, from the knee down he couldn't feel a thing. Panic set in, was it paralysis? Were his legs broken?

“Let me help you,” Galia said. She placed a hand on the soldier's chest and another hand on his legs. “Holy God who dwells in Heaven, please ease this man's suffering and heal his wounds.” As feeling slowly restored to his legs and the pain in his back went away the soldier tried to rise to his feet, but Galia pushed him back down, “Your legs are healed, but their strength isn’t fully recovered. You need to lie down a moment.”

“You're an Agalmite priestess...” the soldier said.

“I am.”

“Does that mean we won? We took back Bogeid?”

“No. I'm afraid it doesn't.”

The soldier looked over at Bogeid, seeing the archers on the wall, and then looked back at Galia, “Why are they letting you heal me, then?”

“Not all Nihilites are as terrible as the demons they worship,” Galia said, giving Ardal a quick glance.

Ardal knelt down by the soldier and held out a small vial from his coat. “This is medicine, brewed using local herbs. It should help you regain your strength.”

The soldier looked at Galia, silently asking her if he should trust that this Nihilite was giving him medicine and not poison. When Galia nodded to him the soldier reluctantly took the small vial and drank its contents.

“I'm afraid I must ask a small favor in exchange,” Ardal said.

“I won't kill anyone for you!” the soldier said.

“What I want is quite the opposite, actually. Sell your armor, what's left of it, and your sword. Use that money to buy just a little land somewhere, become a farmer or a craftsman or something. Dedicate your life to peace, rather than fighting on behalf of lords who obviously don't care whether you live or die.”

The soldier chuckled. “While I'm at it I'll become a bunny rabbit.”

“Pardon?”

“I'm a soldier. It's what I do, it's what I am. You think after a man's tasted as much battle as I have, trained all his life for it, drilled beside his comrades, who are closer to him than kin, that he can just give that all up, live a peaceful life? No, when you're a soldier violence finds you, and if it doesn't you're never satisfied. You're not satisfied unless you're fighting, killing, and even saving lives. One day lived with your life in danger, with war pumping through your blood, is better than ten years at peace! Makes you feel alive! Peace? The dead get to see peace.” The soldier gestured to all of the other dead soldiers lying around the field. “This is what peace looks like. You want me to be peaceful? Then you should have left me to die.”

“I see,” said Ardal. “Very well, then you can't have this back.” Ardal held up the soldier's sword, which he had picked up while the soldier had been prattling on about how much he enjoyed war.

“Give it here!” the soldier insisted.

“No! I dare say you're not strong enough to take it from me at the moment,” Ardal said. “If you want to test that I'll prove it to you, but if you have any sense you'll be on your way, survive to fight some other time.”

The soldier, in spite of Galia's orders, staggered to his feet and glared at Ardal for a moment. Then muttered, “Guess I misplaced my sword in the battle,” before he limped off.

Ardal and Galia watched the soldier limp off, and Ardal said to Galia, “How long do you think it'll be before he throws your God's gift away?”

“What do you mean?”

“You just healed him, just saved his life, by your God's grace. He just told us he's going to go out and fight again, risk his life again and again.”

“So?”

“So...what does it matter whether or not you heal these people? Everyone's going to die... we all end up rotting in the ground, food for the worms. There's no way to escape it, delaying it doesn't make it any less true. Maybe it doesn't really matter if it's today, tomorrow, or in one hundred years.”

“That wasn't what you said when you had Gavish, when you were facing death. You would have given anything for just a few more years, but God didn't make you give anything up.”

“No, you're right. He healed me because 'I'm a good man.'” Ardal gestured out at the battlefield. “A 'good man' who has helped make this all a reality. Rather silly, isn't it? The very thought that your God even knows what good and evil are when he saves someone like me?”

“You are a good man, Ardal,” Galia said. “But understand this: worse than an evil man doing evil is a good man doing evil.”

Ardal said nothing after that, he simply allowed Galia to continue her search for more survivors. He thought on what she said. Had her God turned a blind eye to everything Ardal had done? Was he simply unaware of everything that had gone on between healing his Gavish and now? Or, like Galia seemed to be suggesting, did Saklas still think Ardal was a good man, worth saving? Would it be so hard for the same God who healed his Gavish to restore it again, condemning him to die from it much faster this time?

“He wants you to give up your faith,” spoke Elykos' voice in Ardal's head.

“What?” Ardal responded, almost making the mistake of speaking it out loud in front of Galia.

“The Fool wants you to turn from me, that's why he healed you, and spared your life in spite of what you've done.”

“What I've done? This is your doing too, Elykos! I helped all this happen because you told me to! Because I'm faithful to you!”

“Do you mourn for these dead?”

“YES!”

“Don't.” Elykos said. Ardal almost audibly screamed at Elykos his protests. Surely not everyone caught up in this insanity deserved what had happened to them, but Elykos continued. “They are prisoners in a perdition they cannot escape. Their deaths are horrible, yes, but necessary to achieve our final goal: the destruction of Erets. Once Erets is destroyed their souls will be free, free from the Fool's false Heaven and from the cycle of rebirth. You practice medicine, Ardal. Have you never performed an amputation?”

“I have...”

“And that amputation saved your patient's life, didn't it? The same is happening here, but on a larger scale. The weapon Val created? It’s a bone saw, in a sense. You are taking lives, but saving souls, and you will be rewarded.”

“I know, with honors in the Void.”

“No, Ardal. In this life I will see you rewarded as well. In the next, certainly, but in this life I will see that you get what you have earned. Tonight you will get the first taste of what you have earned.”

“What do you mean?”

But Ardal didn't get Elykos' answer. His thoughts were interrupted when Galia said, “Look, over there!” He expected to see a wounded soldier rising, trying to climb to his feet, but instead he saw hundreds of people, all in commoners' clothes, coming towards him, out of the fog.

“Hello?” Ardal called out. He had to be ready to summon Kamwi if these people turned out to be dangerous. As they drew closer none of them seemed dangerous, though. None were armed, and most of them openly wore the symbol of the Nihilite faith around their necks, a four-pointed star, in the shape of an X.

“Hail, brother!” an old woman, close to the front of the group said. “Are you the one known as Val?”

“No...no, Val is inside the city walls right now,” Ardal said.

“Word has spread of Val's victory here, and so we've come from all over Nihilus to seek refuge in the city of Bogeid.”

Ardal gestured to the bodies littering the field. “Not much of a refuge. Just yesterday we fought a terrible battle to keep it. As you can see, dozens died.”

“Bogeid is still safer than most cities in Nihilus these days,” the old woman said. “Over the past few weeks the inquisitors have tightened their grip. We may have to fight in your battles, but at least we'll be able to sleep at night without worrying that inquisitors will drag us out of our beds.”

“I see your point.” Ardal looked over the refugees as they drew closer. Some had packs on their backs with tools, food, or clothing, whatever they could take with them. Some of the adults held the hands of children, often children who looked nothing like the adults they accompanied.

As Galia looked them over as well she was reminded of all the reasons the Nihilites wanted the Arxians driven out of their land. The Nihilite people had suffered much at the hands of the Arxians, enough, perhaps, to even warrant the kind of revenge Val and his followers were taking. “Well, follow us,” she said. “Let's get you all inside.”

There was a murmur through the crowd of refugees as the woman in the tattered robes of an Agalmite priestess invited them to enter the city. Many of them looked at Ardal for confirmation and he nodded to them and placed a hand on Galia's shoulder to let them know that she was with him.

The refugees were welcomed in with open arms, and the Nihilites within the city immediately set out to find places for them to stay. Val greeted those who had brought tools with them, the obvious craftsmen, especially the blacksmiths and builders. “How did you hear about us?” he asked.

“Deidra told us,” one of the refugees said. “She said we would find safe refuge here, and a place to make our stand against our oppressors.”

“Three cities,” another refugee said, “Three cities in all of Nihilus have successfully done what you did, and each one is becoming a rallying point.”

“What other cities have rebelled?” Val asked.

“Ormondsburgh and Neul.”

“Ormondsburgh? The one that swore its loyalty to Cory sixteen years ago?”

“Yes, the one where Cory was given a drink of water when he was thirsty, food when he was hungry, and he blessed them by placing them under his protection. That Ormondsburgh. A young woman named Farrah is in charge there. She claims to be Cory's daughter.”

“That's right! When Cory was in that city, back when it was just a tiny village, there was a woman, another man's wife, who offered herself to him! The stories were always iffy on whether or not Cory took her that night.”

“Guess he must have, and Farrah was the result. She was just a blacksmith a few weeks ago, now she's a general, rallying the people to fight for the cause!”

“I can't really compete with that,” Val said with a smile. “I'm no savior's daughter. Hope I don't disappoint you.”

“With all the dead Arxians I saw in that field out there? Impossible.”

Val laughed a moment, and then his face turned more serious. “Get together all of the builders and laborers. First they have to finish the repairs of the westernmost wall. Then they need to start repairing some of the homes. All blacksmiths need to be working day and night on making weapons and armor. We have to be ready for the next battle. If the enemy attacks at night next time they rob us of our primary advantage.”

Galia hadn't found any more survivors in the fields surrounding the city, but she soon found that several of the refugees needed her attention. Many they were sick or wounded. She and Ardal both worked together, giving her prayers and his medicines to heal those to whom the road had been unkind.

“You're an Idol priestess...” one sick child said, just after Galia had healed her.

It took Galia a moment to realize that the child said “Idol” and not “Idle,” and once she realized that the child meant that she was an Agalmite, which the Nihilites often referred to as “Idoloaters,” she said to her, “Yes, that's true.”

“But Idol'ters hate us!”

“That's not always true,” Galia said. “I pray to the God of Erets, who commands me to love everyone, even blasph...even people I disagree with.”

“Oh...” everything Galia said clearly went over the child's head, but Galia was glad she said it. Really, it was more for her own benefit than for the child's.

As Ardal continued to cure the sick with his potions, a strange thought occurred to Galia, “How much can the demons really hate mankind, how evil can they truly be, if they are teaching people like Ardal how to make medicine?” The thought had never really occurred to her. She had made the argument to Nihilites many times before that God didn't truly hate them, otherwise he wouldn't allow his clergy to heal them. It hadn't occurred to her that the same could be said for demons who taught human beings magic and basically told them “heal whomever you wish.” Did the demons, perhaps, truly believe they were doing the right thing? Were they confused, maybe, just as much as the Nihilites were, convinced that Erets was some prison world where a cruel God was holding humankind? Given all of the suffering in the world, Galia could actually kind of see why. Over the years it seemed she'd forgotten the real reason why the Nihilites were so bent on destroying the world. She'd thought for so many years that it was out of hate, out of dissatisfaction with their own lives.

Now she remembered a moment from when she was a girl, when Ardal taught her the reason why they said Saklas, the Agalmite God, was evil.

“You all know professor Elowen, who was pregnant? I have some sad news, children. Her baby was born with Harlequin Disease, and died just a few days after being born. Just one more of Saklas' cruel tricks.”

Every time Ardal had ever presented reasons to hate God it was clear that Ardal had great compassion, and that the suffering of others pained him. Perhaps this was so for more of the other Nihilites than she realized. These were people who had seen a lot of suffering, not just their own, but that of their loved ones. Could Galia really blame them for wanting to rebel against God?

After a long day spent healing the sick and the wounded, and helping the refugees find temporary homes, Ardal retired to his make-shift “room.” His heart was a sea of emotions. It churned between sadness at all that these refugees had seen, happiness that they had made it to Bogeid, pride at having been able to help them, and then fear of the idea that the next time an Arxian army arrived to take back the city they might be successful. If the Arxians took back the city it was likely all of these people would be executed. He couldn't bear the thought of seeing that happen, the very idea of the Arxians punishing these people for their faith yet again. After all he'd sacrificed to liberate Bogeid, possibly even his soul, the very thought of it falling into Arxian control again made him crazy.

He woke with a start when he heard heavy breathing in his doorway, and jolted upright. Standing in the doorway was Galia, tears in her eyes, illuminated by the starlight coming in the window.

“What is it?” Ardal asked.

Galia said nothing. She began walking into the room and untying the belt of her robe. Ardal was too confused to say anything. Before he could gather his thoughts or realize what Galia was doing, she'd let her robe fall and hit the ground. She stood naked before him.

For a moment Ardal averted his eyes, but the alluring appearance of her soft skin, her ample breasts, her wide hips, and her shapely legs pulled his gaze back to her. The starlight and shadows did a perfect job of accentuating her every curve, every feature. He couldn't help but stare as Galia walked towards his bed. Confusion and desire had him seemingly paralyzed as Galia knelt down on the bed, her knees on either side of his legs, and she crawled towards him.

“Galia...your vows...” he said. A weak argument, and he knew it.

“I don't care,” her voice was distant, as if she wasn't really there. She held his face in her hand, her fingertips so gentle, and brought her lips to his. Her kiss was so soft, so tender, and exactly what he'd hoped for with all his heart for almost as long as he'd known her. Her tongue forced its way into his mouth and she began to untie the straps of his tunic. Ardal did nothing at first, except enjoy the kiss, his hands down at his sides. That is, until Galia straddled him and took his hands in hers, bringing them up to her breasts, and she whispered, “I know you've wanted to touch them.”

Ardal couldn't argue with that, there wasn't a part of this woman's body he hadn't thought about touching, but something was wrong about all of this. Ardal couldn't quite put his finger on what it was. Unable to come up with any rational reason not to go along with this, Ardal lavished Galia's neck with kisses. He took in her scent and listened to her moan as she arched her head back, leaning into each kiss. Her skin was paradise against his lips, and her voice the sweetest of all songs. His hands kneaded at her breasts, feeling how soft but firm they were to the touch. He was overcome with desire, nearly certain this was just a dream, but it was far too vivid to be that.

Galia rolled over on Ardal's bed and pulled him over her. Was this truly happening? Was Galia truly naked in his bed, silently begging him to make love to her? Ardal helped her remove his tunic, and she ran her fingers along his muscled chest. He leaned down, kissed her breasts, eager to enjoy every inch of her body.

“What brought this on?” he managed to say as he kissed along the bottom of her ribs, occasionally giving playful bites.

“I wanted to reward you for everything,” Galia said.

Ardal jumped back out of the bed as if he'd just discovered a cobra in it. His face was as pale as the stars in the night sky. It suddenly made sense, this wasn't Galia in his bed. Sure, it was her body, but it was Elykos in her mind. Maybe he had total control over her. Or maybe he just had the power of suggestion, and was slipping thoughts into her head, which she, of her own free will, was acting upon. In any case, clearly she was not truly coming onto him of her own free will.

“What's wrong?” Galia said, throwing the blanked off of herself and revealing her body to him once again. “Don't you want me?”

No, this wasn't Galia. Not pure, soft-hearted Galia. This was not the woman he'd grown to love, this was a puppet Elykos was presenting to him. He would have no part of this.

“She wants this, Ardal. I know she does. She just doesn't have the courage to take it herself.”

Ardal held his hands up to both sides of his head, trying to block out Elykos' voice.

“Take her, Ardal. She wants you. She loves you, and once you have had her she will begin taking you without my help. Show her you're a real man!”

Ardal ran from the ruined house as fast as he could. He would have no part of this. He wanted Galia, that wasn't the issue, but he wanted GALIA, not Elykos in Galia's body. The very thought of what he'd almost done made him sick, and he stopped in an alleyway to vomit.

“Weak! I offered you your promised reward and you were too weak to take it!”

“I don't want it like that!” Ardal said. “Galia's not just a puppet! She's not just a doll! I love Galia...not...it's not just about wanting her body! You want to reward me? Then how about this: protect her, make sure she gets out of this whole mess alive and well, and...don't ever try to control her again!” Ardal slumped against the alley wall and sobbed. He held his head in his hands. He couldn't handle it, the shock at what he'd almost done, the realization that Galia didn't actually want him. She was just being controlled by Elykos, all of it was too much. Did she have any feelings for him at all? Did she even think he was a good man? Or was that just Elykos' manipulation too? He couldn't be sure any more. What if he didn't know the real Galia at all? He'd fallen in love with her in large part because of her compassion, but what if even that compassion was just a result of Elykos' manipulation?

“Fine, Ardal. I didn't realize you truly cared for her. True love like that is rare. I promise, I will not manipulate Galia anymore. From now on if she decides to come onto you it will be on her own volition. And I swear to you I will keep her safe.”

“Thank you. You have no idea how much that means to me.” Focus on the positive. Ardal needed to keep his thoughts positive, especially since Elykos could hear them. He had to focus his thoughts on how gracious Elykos was for promising to protect Galia, rather than on the fact that Elykos seemed to think of her, and who knows who else, as nothing more than a doll to be played with.

Once Ardal calmed down, he returned to his home and found Galia asleep in her own bed, clothed, as far as he could tell. That was a relief. Not that he'd get much sleep after what happened anyway.