Ambrosia Page 13

  “Will you stop fretting about the animal?” Lord Demos hissed through clenched teeth.

  “If I don’t, she’ll wander off again.”

  The kitten managed to wriggle free and dropped to the floor.

  “Katsaros, come back to mommy!”

  The animal scampered across the sanctum to Storgen, where it scaled up atop his shoulder.

  “Well hey, little guy. Nice to see you again.”

  Lord Demos’ jaw fell open. “It’s you,” he said, pointing a manicured finger at Storgen.

  “Hey, Lord Demos. Sorry about the face. Thanks for bringing Nikki back to me, that was really nice of you,” Storgen said happily.

  Ambera looked around. “Nikki? Who’s Nikki?”

  “It’s what I’m thinking about naming her.”

  Lady Demos was horrified, her pompadour trembling. “Her name is Paithoon Katsaros Demos the second, and you will give her back to me this instant!”

  Storgen fished out a piece of gyro and fed it to the kitten. “No one seems to like Nikki, though. I suppose I could just call her Gáta.”

  Lady Demos blinked. “Gáta?”

  “It means cat.”

  “Yes, I know what it means.”

  Ambera shook her head. “You can’t just name a cat, Cat. That’s like naming a human, Human.”

  “Why? That’s what you’ve been calling me.”

  “My goddess,” Lord Demos said formally, taking a knee. “This man has done me a great injustice, I humbly request that he be turned over to my security forces immediately so that I may punish him myself and restore my honor.”

  Ambera looked pleased at this turn of events. “I am told his capture is worth a considerable sum.”

  “My goddess. I will pay the reward to you threefold, let me be the one to end his life.”

  Storgen whistled. “Boy, I am really popular these days.”

  Ambera gave a glance back to her guards, and they activated the sigils in their gauntlets. With a blinding flash manacles of energy appeared around Storgen’s wrists and ankles.

  “Ah! Again? I hate these stupid things.”

  Ambera thought for a moment. “Lord Demos, your family have been loyal members of my familia for seven generations. Your tributes have been of the highest caliber, your tithes above and beyond what I have required of you. For that reason, I am inclined to grant your request.”

  Lord Demos licked his lips. “Excellent.”

  Ambera glanced back at Storgen devilishly. “Of course, if you were my champion, you would be immune to such requests, and my hands would be tied, so to speak.”

  She snapped her fingers, and a glowing contract and quill appeared in the air before him.

  The room went silent as Storgen thought it over carefully.

  Lord Demos watched in angry anticipation.

  Ambera watched with smug confidence.

  Storgen looked up, his eyes resolute.

  “I’ll do it.”

  Chapter Seven

  With the fall of the north star, the last of the Elementals were subjugated, and the Gods began the Year of Song, marking their celebrations as third age began. With their newfound dominion over the weather, they blessed the humans below, raining upon their crops, stilling the volcanoes, rebuking the tornadoes and pacifying the deserts. The humans flourished, growing in unprecedented numbers. The first of the war gods were crowned, and the armies they raised scattered the beastmen tribes, driving them to the north, and freeing the humans from their predation. But for all their prosperity, the Elder Gods Sirend and Reinala were not sated. They looked jealously upon the Fates above them, and conspired to free themselves from the bonds of destiny that held them still.

  - The Book of Cerebus, Chapter 2, Verse 77

  The vulture-like announcer spun his staff and rose up into the air.

  “Welcome ladies, gentleman, and others, to duelist court!”

  All of creation trembled with the roar of the crowd. The seats of the colosseum were bursting past capacity, waving people packed even on the staircases and entry portals. Dozens of clockwork dirigibles, brought in by members of the merchants guild looking to make a quick killing, offered views of the arena above even the skyboxes for those willing to pay the overinflated prices.

  For days, the devotees of Nisi had been pouring into Ápinso from all the neighboring islands to show their support for the goddess of war. They waved banners and flags sporting her dragon crest, stomping their feet in unison, like the marching of a great battle formation.

  It was a sound impossibly loud to describe to someone who has never experienced it. A mingled thunder, as if the very air was constantly exploding in all directions.

  The followers of the fertility goddess were no less exuberant, many of them still celebrating from a bender that began the night before. They sprayed bottles of foamy wine into the air, creating intoxicating rainbows in the light; they scattered blessed grain like confetti, consecrating the arena for a great victory. No one in living memory had ever challenged the goddess of war, and the followers of Ambera licked their lips and drank deep, drunk on the anticipation of power and glory that awaited victory.

  The Goddess of the Harvest was carried out on her palanquin, wearing the most gaudy dress anyone could ever recall seeing. White peacock feathers jetted out in a sail behind her head, plumeing up from her neckline, and down from her hemline. She almost looked as if a pillow was in the process of exploding, but wore it with so much pride and enthusiasm that no one dared question the taste of the design.

  Ambera took a gulp from her flask and held up her hand, all the talismans of her followers lighting up like fireflies. Countless points of light amid the spray and rain. With a flick of her finger a cloud sprung up, momentarily blocking out the sun and enhancing the effect. It was like she was lounging in a sea of stars, the cries of the humans so loud it created an acoustic shadow. A poetic moment of silence and beauty that impressed even her oldest disciples.

  Nisi was more restrained. She wasted no ambrosia on spectacle, but her presence was no less felt as she strode in. Her skin shimmered like silver glass, her shoulders square, her back straight, as if incapable of fatigue. With her, were her generals and advisors, their armor dinged from use, their capes dusty having come from the front lines. They were surprisingly un-ornate for their rank, no superfluous decorations or impractical pompous additions to their gear. These were career soldiers, cold, pragmatic and efficient.

  Nisi’s followers grew quiet when they saw her, regarding her with a mixture of awe and fear. Alone amongst all the gods of the east, she alone had managed to invade, conquer, and hold territories from Agadis. Though it was subtle, the message was clear. Ambera’s display was a hollow gesture. Nisi was the hero of the Empire, Ambera merely a wannabe stage performer.

  Ambera tried to appear aloof as she was set down onto her throne by her oiled and muscular attendants, spitting free a feather that had managed to work its way into the corner of her mouth.

  “I’m surprised you showed up, Nisi,” Ambera said, swatting the feather away. “When you didn’t answer my challenge, I assumed you would default.”

  Nisi chuckled and picked up a wine goblet made from a human skull, swirling it around thoughtfully in her grip.

  “It’s been a long time, cousin. I’m sure you remember your first scythe. A very handsome young man, he was.”

  Ambera sat up in offense, a stray feather poking her in the ear. “I could have you censured, you know. It’s illegal to drink from human skulls now.”

  Nisi looked back with condescending eyes. “Who’s drinking? I just like to hold it.”

  Ambera balled her fists.

  “I hate you so much.”

  Down below the stadium, the stomping of the crowds dislodged little jets of dust from the ceiling, water trickled through cracks in the concrete, while fatigued crystals crackled and buzzed, struggling to introduce more than a flicker of torchlight to the dank preparation room. Storgen whistled happily to
himself as he sat on a cracked bench, taping up his hand. It was surprising how long it had taken him to find something so seemingly mundane and common. There were, of course, healing crystals, auto-stitchers, self-sealing adhesive patches, and an impressively stocked apothecary cabinet, full of glowing vials and oddly shaped ampoules, but all of those remained untouched and unused as Storgen prepared himself for the match.

  There was a knock at the encrusted metal door, and a familiar hoplite peeked in.

  Storgen looked up. “Hey, Markus, what you doing down here?”

  Markus sneered. “What does it look like I’m doing, genius?”

  “Well, if it’s room service, you forgot the food.”

  “I’ve been demoted, thanks to you.”

  “Seems a bit harsh.”

  “You broke out while a hundred people watched. They chose me to take the blame.”

  Storgen fished a key out of his pocket. “You want the key back?”

  “No, I don’t want the flippin’ key back!”

  “Okay, fine, just asking.”

  Storgen set the key down on the bench.

  Marcus took a moment to regain his composure. “There’s a skybox holder from the Jenala familia here requesting an audience, sir.”

  The way he said ‘sir’ made it sound like a curse word.

  Storgen clapped his hands. “Ooh, I hope it’s a fan.”

  The door was kicked open and Philiastra stomped in.

  “Storge, you big idiot! I hate you!”

  “Yay, it is a fan.”

  She wheeled back to slap him, but he caught her wrist when she tried.

  She pointed at him accusatorily. “You said that you were going to find a way to earn the money yourself.”

  “I did.”

  “THIS is your solution?”

  “It’s a bit unorthodox, I’ll admit.”

  “You think?”

  “How did you even know I was here?”

  “Are you kidding? They’ve been blaring your name on the call-tubes for the last two days.”

  He winced. “I was kind of hoping you wouldn’t find out about this.”

  “How could I NOT find out? Becoming a champion to that snake, Ambera?”

  “Hey, careful, as her champion I think I’m supposed to kill you for saying something like that.”

  Storgen glanced over at Markus. “That’s how it works, right?”

  “I hope you get mouth goblins!”

  “Well, you’re not getting a tip with that attitude.” Storgen linked his hands behind his head and leaned back against the wall. “Anyway, Phili, I’ll let your blasphemy slip by this once, just because we’re friends and you fed me cake that one time.”

  Philiastra couldn’t believe what she was witnessing. “You’re insane!”

  Storgen stretched lazily. “Do you even know what insane means, Phili?

  “It means you.”

  “Insane means trying the same thing over and over again but expecting it to work even though it never has before.”

  She put her face in her hand. “I never know what you’re talking about.”

  “If I keep doing what I’ve always done, I’m going to keep getting what I’ve always gotten. It’s like you said. The way I’ve been searching for my true love hasn’t worked and isn’t going to work. It’s time to try something new.”

  “Dying is new, but that doesn’t make it preferable.”

  “It is a risk, sure, but it’s a carefully calculated risk.”

  “But you’re bad at math.”

  “You know, this is a very negative work environment you’re creating.”

  “Storge, Nisi’s champion is a minotaur. A human can’t beat a minotaur.”

  “Oh, nonsense. You only say that because no one ever has.”

  “Oh sure, if you had some powerful sigma-level gift from the gods you could beat him, but even if she gave you one, you couldn’t use it.”

  Storgen sat back up. “Come on, Phili, I don’t need any magical bauble from the government.”

  He held up his fist, the tape already coming loose. “I have everything I need right here.”

  She stood up angrily. “I came here to help you, but I see now that was a mistake.”

  Looking at her teary eyes, he could see how serious she was.

  “Phili, I…”

  “I’m not going to help you kill yourself!” she shouted. “You’re really selfish, you know? All you think about is what you want. You never think about the people around you, about how getting yourself pounded into jelly might hurt the people who care about you.”

  Storgen looked down sadly. “I’m sorry, Phili. I have to do this.”

  “No you don’t! You chose to do this, and that’s what makes you such a big jerk.”

  Closing her eyes, Philiastra turned and ran away. At the door she stopped.

  “I’m not going to watch, you know? I’m not going to sit there and watch you throw your life away gambling on a stupid dream.”

  Realizing what she said, she glanced back regretfully. On the surface, he looked like he always did, but she could tell her words had hurt him deeply.

  For several moments, the two of them said nothing, the room shaking faintly from the crowds above.

  Storgen fumbled for the tape, and began taping up his other hand somberly.

  Philiastra closed her eyes and turned back around. Wiping her cheek, she walked over to him and sat on the bench before him.

  “Here,” she said, holding her hand out. “You’re doing it wrong.”

  Tenderly, she held his hands, taping up his knuckles properly as the two of them sat there in silence.

  “You’re so helpless,” she said gently. “What would you do without me?”

  He looked at her softly. “Thanks, Phili.”

  She nodded, carefully securing the ends of the material.

  “You broke your promise, you know?” she whispered. “You made me worry again.”

  “I’m sorry,” he said sincerely.

  He reached out and patted her head, making her blush a little.

  “I’ll make it up to you.”

  “You’d better.”

  The announcer floated to the center of the field and set down a golden book on a pedestal. “Please state your claim.”

  Ambera ran her fingers through her luxuriously long floating hair as her high priestess handed her a scroll. “As high general of all the armies of Erotan, Nisi rules without wisdom, and without honor. The other gods would not say this openly, but I will. She squanders our armies and our navies on petty displays of bravado. She has dishonored herself and the Empire, and she is not worthy of her position.”

  The golden book flew open, his words etched without hands into the metallic pages.

  The announcer turned to Nisi. “Counter-claim.”

  Nisi placed her chin in her hand. “I won’t dignify that with a response. She lords over grapes and eggs, and counsels me on how to fight our greatest enemy? What would she do in my stead? Lie with each and every soldier in Agadis until they all die of syphilis?”

  “Blasphemer!” Ambera snarled, jumping to her feet.

  The crowd gasped in offense.

  Nisi smiled in amusement. “Blasphemy can only occur against the divine. If you think yourself godly enough to challenge me, then come and claim my lands by force.”

  “I intend to.”

  Ambera threw a knowing glance to Acantha. Everything was going according to plan.

  “We will settle this in the old way. Territory against territory, winner takes all.” A stray feather got stuck in her mouth, and she had to spit it out.

  “Agreeable,” Nisi concurred.

  The Binding Book began etching out the terms.

  Ambera took out a pair of reading glasses and put them on. Unfurling the scroll a bit, she cleared her throat.

  “I wager the following territories: “The Zóni Astéron Archipelago, The Triantáfyllo Barrier, The Fotiá Mountains…”

 
“Those are minor territories,” Nisi objected.

  Ambera looked over the top of her glasses. “I’m not finished. Ahem. Aetós Peak, Kýklopas Reef, The Palírroias Wash, The Ring of Págos…”

  “Just how many more islands are you wagering?” Nisi complained.

  The scroll unfolded and rolled down across the arena. The crowd marveled at its length.

  “If I may?” Ambera asked, swatting a feather out of her face.

  “Proceed,” the announcer said.

  Ambera cleared her throat and began again.

  Nisi sat back on her throne in irritation.

  ~

  As Markus lead Storgen past the armory, they came to a vaulted corridor. Thousands of names were scrawled over the walls. Storgen paused, running his fingers over them.

  “Come on, you’re going to be late,” Markus said curtly.

  “I recognize some of these people,” Storgen mused. “Jabari, he was the Saber of Warestus. And Nakia, she was the Chariot of Wainwright. I saw her once on Epifylakí Island.”

  “So what?”

  “So, their names aren’t recorded anywhere, their real names, I mean. This wall here, this place might be the only record that they ever existed.”

  Markus looked it over suspiciously. “It’s just graffiti.”

  Storgen looked around and found a loose piece of concrete, and began scratching on a bare spot.

  “Come on, we don’t have time for this,” Markus nagged. “You’re supposed to be there already.”

  “Calm down, you’re not getting in any more trouble…not today, anyway.”

  Storgen stepped back and looked over his name crudely added to the wall. “Ha! Spelled right and everything.”

  Markus’ patience was at an end. “MOVE!”

  Storgen reluctantly followed him down the corridor.

  “You know, I’m a champion, aren’t you supposed to like, kiss up to me?”

  “Shut up.”

  “I could launch a complaint to your superior.”

  “I said, SHUT UP!”

  Markus opened a gate revealing a tight passage. “This will lead you straight to the main gate. Hurry now.”

  It was just an empty corridor. Not something that should have bothered anyone, yet Storgen hesitated.