I tossed him twenty feet, into his brothers' arms. They staggered, but caught him and set him down. As he reeled dizzily, I threw back my head and laughed.
“You will do well, young Haetor!” I said. That sounded like something a god would say to a loyal subject. “I have seen your future, and it is glorious!” I wished it were true. What did his future hold?
Haetor fell to his knees before me. “I swear to serve you for the rest of my life, Lord Oberon. Command me. I am yours!”
“Retrieve your sword,” I said. “We must all return to the city. Aslom?” I faced his father again.
“Yes, Lord Oberon?” He still looked greatly relieved that I had spared his youngest son.
“Tonight we will celebrate my arrival. Tomorrow you will begin gathering in your armies.”
“You will lead us into battle?” he cried eagerly.
“Yes!”
“Against what foe?”
“The hell-creatures of Chaos!”
“Against the hell-creatures!” he shouted. His sons drew their swords and raised them, taking up the cry: “Against the hell-creatures! Against the hell-creatures of Chaos!”
Chapter 21
“O-ber-on, O-ber-on, O-ber-on!” chanted the tens of thousands of men, women, and children jamming the streets of Ceyoldar. People had been streaming into the city day and night as word spread of my arrival. They had been calling my name for hours once it became known I was staying in the palace.
When I finally made my appearance with the dawning sun, a deafening cheer went up. They must have recognized me from the thousands of statues decorating the city—excellent likenesses for the most part, if I did say so myself. Today I wore magnificent gold-plated armor, beautiful but impractical, which the priests had provided for this day's ceremonies. A beaming King Aslom, dressed in shining silver armor and wearing his crown instead of a helmet, escorted me to the main courtyard. His four sons and a bevy of white-robed Priests of Oberon trailed after us.
The king and I stepped up into a waiting pair of golden chariots pulled by white horses, taking our places behind drivers in simple white tunics. At a signal from the king, the palace gates opened, the drivers clicked to their horses, and we rolled out slowly and majestically into the cobbled streets of Ceyoldar.
Footmen with staffs ranged ahead, calling warnings, making sure the crowds gave way. They needn't have bothered; everyone fell back before me, awe and wonder in their faces. It disconcerted me a bit, but I made sure not to show it. After all, these would be my troops when we faced Uthor's army.
“O-ber-on, O-ber-on, O-ber-on!”
As we passed, the crowds dropped to their knees, bowing their heads. Still they called my name.
Slowly and majestically, side by side, our chariots steered through the packed streets. We headed straight for the center of the city. There, half a mile ahead, rose the towering Temple of Oberon—a gigantic pyramid covered in gleaming white marble. Its outside walls consisted of a series of steps gradually ascending toward a flat top. I had never seen anything so large or imposing.
“O-ber-on, O-ber-on, O-ber-on!”
Trying my best to look godlike, I neither waved nor smiled. I did, however, nod approvingly now and again. That seemed to meet everyone's expectations.
When we rolled to a stop before the pyramid, I stepped down. Children began to scatter white rose petals before me. A choir began a solemn hymn in my honor.
Silently, I began to climb the steplike white marble sides of the pyramid, flanked by King Aslom and his sons, followed by the high priests. The sun warmed my back; a cool breeze swept in from the south. A few birds soared overhead, their cries lost in the almost deafening roar from behind and below me.
“O-ber-on, O-ber-on, O-ber-on!” the crowds continued to chant. “O-ber-on, O-ber-on, O-ber-on!”
It seemed to take forever, but I finally reached the top of the pyramid—a square area perhaps thirty feet on each side. A golden throne sat waiting for me at the edge, allowing everyone below to see me. At least it had a cushioned seat, I saw with a twinge of good humor—someone had given at least a little thought to his god's holy posterior.
Turning, I raised my arms. Instantly the crowd hushed. From this height, I gazed across the whole of the city, from the distant riverfront wharves to my left to the sprawling palace behind its whitewashed walls straight ahead to the crowded tenements on the right.
Though I knew many thousands of men, women, and children had assembled to see me, I was unprepared for the sheer numbers of them. People jammed every street as far as I could see, and they packed rooftops, windows, and balconies. I had never seen so many at one time before… there had to be hundreds of thousands of them.
I cleared my throat, suddenly nervous. It was one thing to address troops before a battle. It was quite another to talk to so many strangers, all of whom believed I was their god.
“Good people of Ceyoldar!” I called.
Criers took up my words, spreading them quickly across the whole of the city.
“I am Oberon!” I told them. “I am here to lead you into battle on a great cause!… We must defeat the foul hell-creatures of Chaos, who even now are preparing to march against Ceyoldar!… If they prevail, all who live in this city and in these lands will be slaughtered!… From the youngest babe to the oldest crone, none will be spared the sword! I say to you now… to all able-bodied men… go home and get your weapons!… We march at dawn tomorrow! … We will fight the hell-creatures, and we will prevail!”
Hundreds of thousands of voices began to cheer. The sound struck me like a physical blow. I raised my arms triumphantly, then sat back in my throne.
Girls in white robes appeared from somewhere within the pyramid, and they began to fan me with the broad green leaves of some native plant. Others approached with trays of delicately spiced meats and succulent fruits.
I waved them away. Stretching out my legs, I half closed my eyes, basking in the morning sun. This was the good life, indeed. The cushion felt just right.
That night, in the palatial suite King Aslom gave up for my use, I lay back panting and spent for the moment. A dozen beautiful naked women reached out to caress and massage me. Ah, the powers of a god! If only I had the time to properly enjoy this world! If not for the coming fight with Uthor's forces, it would have been easy to dally here, taking my pleasures and reveling in my new-found position. People didn't worship me nearly enough back home. Especially beautiful and willing women like these…
Still, duty called. It had been far too long since I had talked with Freda and Dad. Best to check in with them in case something important had happened.
“Leave me now,” I said with a reluctant sigh.
“Great Oberon…” purred Kelionasha, whose nymphlike pleasures I had enjoyed twice already that night. She seemed to sense my approval. Her small, delicate breasts brushed gently across my chest as she trailed kisses up my neck, sending a new shiver of delight through me. “Have we displeased you?”
“Not at all.” I smiled and traced the line of her jaw with one finger. “The business of a god calls me now. I must tend to it.”
“Can it not wait?” Her tongue traced a light pattern through the hairs of my chest, around my nipples, and then strayed lower. Her hands began to caress and stroke gently. As I shuddered with pleasure more of these beautiful women reached out, a dozen hands massaging scented oils into my shoulders, neck, and legs.
As Kelionasha swung around and straddled me, I pushed all thoughts of Amber from my mind. Another hour wouldn't matter one way or another.