Just like the unused throne room of the Tower Keep, Karak’s monastery had been cleaned out. The plants that used to line the walls now resided in the courtyard behind the temple. The pews that had filled the center of the room had been disassembled and used as timber for ax handles, bows, wagons, and other such items the army required. In their place a giant map of Dezrel had been painted on the floor by the god himself, a painstakingly detailed atlas showing every hill, valley, township, and holdfast both east and west of the Rigon River.
It was there he found his towering god, bent at the waist and hovering over the map, his giant feet following a path north along the great river that split the land in two, his glowing yellow eyes narrowed in concentration. Velixar said nothing as he approached. He stood in the god’s shadow while torchlight flickered all around them. Karak was twice Velixar’s height, and his hands were large and powerful enough to crush his head by simply making a fist. Most men were awed by his mere presence, forced to their knees by the Divinity’s might. Velixar was not most men. When he bowed, he did so because he wanted to.
“My Lord,” he said, dropping to a single knee before the deity.
“Velixar, my son,” replied Karak in his booming voice. Rather than looking up, the god continued to trace lines over the huge map with his eyes. “I am glad you have come.”
“Is that so, my Lord?” he replied. He rose to his feet once more and stood by Karak’s side, where he should have been standing since his creation. Though he had been made by both brother gods, Velixar was convinced that Karak’s path of order and discipline was the better.
“It is. I have put much thought into our last discussion and have come to a decision.”
“Which is?”
The god’s finger, as big as Velixar’s forearm, pointed down at his feet. “I have near twenty thousand fighting men in my service, and my brother’s Paradise is expansive. Our men are to be divided into four separate factions. One faction will head south, pass through the delta, and fall on my brother’s Sanctuary.” His finger moved north along the river. “One will cross the river here, across from the west’s largest eastern settlement.” Again the giant finger moved north. “The third will join with our allies in Dezerea.” This time the finger traced a line to the northwest. “And the fourth shall sail along the Gihon, uniting with those Uther left behind in the northern deadlands, and face the spellcasters who live there. The three southern factions will slowly maneuver across the land, burning the areas where they find resistance, gathering as many converts as they can, and they will finally merge in Mordeina, which I am sure my brother will have fortified.”
Velixar nodded. “And you will heed my advice and leave Ashhur’s dark children alone?”
“I shall. Ker will fall after my brother has perished and his surviving creations have joined our cause, swelling our numbers. I fear you are correct about the risk they pose should their current desire for neutrality be broken. Once we have victory over Ashhur, I will leave them no choice but to bend the knee.”
“Will you spare them if they do?”
Karak nodded. “Most, yes, but there are few who are too dangerous, their thinking too stubborn. The giant Bardiya, for example. Let those who would cling to Ashhur’s simple-minded weakness find order in the life beyond instead.”
“A wise choice, my Lord.”
Karak stood to his full height, his majestic black platemail shimmering in the torchlight. He truly was an imposing figure. Velixar couldn’t understand how any man, even Bardiya Gorgoros, Ashhur’s greatest pupil, could deny him.
When the god looked down on him, his expression shifted to bemusement. “Why have you come, my son?” he asked. “I see something troubles you.”
“I bear ill news,” said Velixar. “Erznia is no more.”
“Is that so?”
“It is. The demon Darakken took control of the detachment I sent there. Instead of bringing back the Moris as I requested, it ordered the slaughter of every living being.”
Karak’s expression darkened. “All of them?”
“Every man, woman, and child, according to Captain Handrick.”
“And the captain let it happen?”
“Not only that, he relished it. He arrived at the keep this very afternoon, gloating. I taught the man the lesson he deserved, but even that will not bring back the lives lost, lives that would have been valuable to our cause.”
The air seemed to grow hot, and Karak’s arm shot out. He smashed his fist into the floor, disintegrating the painted depiction of one of Neldar’s southern townships. An angry roar left his lips, and the vibration knocked Velixar back a step.
“This will not do!” the god shouted, gazing at him with eyes that seemed capable of burning out his soul.
“I understand, my Lord,” replied Velixar, breathing deep to stay calm in face of the deity’s wrath. He dropped to both knees. “I like it no better than you, but please understand that all is not lost. As much as you love your children in Erznia, the fact remains that they have ignored your edicts for months. I sent Handrick there to force their complicity. Darakken is a simple beast, one that understands only death, destruction, and loyalty to you. It simply doled out punishment in the only way it knows how.”
Karak scowled at him, and for a moment Velixar thought the deity would strike him dead.
“You said you could control the beast,” Karak said. “This is not the first time it has acted on its own. I do not want my people killed without reason. Chaos lies that way.”
“I can control it, and I have. The spirit of Clovis Crestwell still lives and still elicits a small amount of influence on Darakken’s actions.”
“Yet it went against my decree.”
Velixar shook his head. “It did not. It was the soldiers who disobeyed, not the beast. They all knew what was expected of them, but they succumbed to their bloodlust. The demon had no part in the plan, had no knowledge of the plan. It is they who should be held accountable, not Darakken.”
Karak’s visage softened ever so slightly. “We cannot have disorder in the ranks of our fighting men.”
“I agree, my Lord, but that is the way of humanity. They are weak creatures, guided by instinct and emotion. That is the reason I chose you over your brother. He wishes to nurture their deficiencies, whereas you wish to mold them into something more, for only then will their freedom mean anything.”
“You speak of them as if they are separate from yourself. You too are human.”
“Not any longer, my Lord. Now I am something greater.”
Karak chuckled at those words that caused anger to rise up in him once more. So even his chosen deity wished to mock him as Handrick had.…
Velixar cleared his throat, trying to swallow down his frustration.
“My Lord,” he said evenly, “I understand all of this, and I will work with the leaders of our army to instill a greater level of order and respect among the fighting men. I am Highest now, and they will learn to respect that. However, I must first confront the demon. Although I understand its actions, I agree that it cannot be allowed to operate in such a way, and will show it the error of its ways.”
“Do you know where it is?” the god asked, his giant head tilting to the side.
“I do. A scrying spell revealed that the demon remains in Erznia.” He swallowed hard, dreading his next words. “I wish to confront it immediately but lack the power to do so on my own.”
“You are weakened.”
It was a statement, not a question, and unfortunately it was true. Velixar had no dragonglass mirror to step through in Erznia, a tactic that had in the past allowed him to move from one point to another in an instant. And though the essence of the Beast of a Thousand Faces had strengthened his innate abilities, and he could ride the shadows, using them as portals just as Karak did, his ability to do so was weaker now than ever, presumably because that power was being exhausted by his newer talents. It would take him hours to cross the hundred miles between Veldaren and the Erzn Forest, and by the time he reached his destination, he would not have the strength to return.