Aid

OF GODS AND MEN

Chapter 15: Summons

     “Wake up!” Tarsus dreamt.  It echoed in his mind, like a trumpet’s call from the waking world: a call that expected to be answered.

     He opened his eyes.  The dark of night greeted him in the cramped room he shared with Finnian and Cecily.  Some light shone through the small porthole they left open, but the moon was pale this night and its light was dim.

     “Did you all…hear that?” Finnian’s voice floated down from above them.

     “More like I dreamed it,” Cecily replied, invisible to the men from her bed across the room.

     Tarsus did not sit up or stand; he lay in his cot, though his senses were heightened.  The words of Amelia from the night before began thundering in his mind.  

     “You are a slave.  You have been, since you set foot on this ship.”

     There was no denying it.  The three of them were onboard the ship of a mad demigod who only helped them to service his own ends.  And now, their master was calling.

     “Come to the deck!” Tarsus heard Cassius say, though not with his ears.  “We have arrived at the UnderIsle.”

     Tarsus sat up then, slowly.  He ducked out from his bunk and got to his feet even as his hands searched blindly in the dark for his sword.

     “Tarsus, you heard?” Finnian asked fearfully.

     “He is summoning us Finnian,” Tarsus explained.  The sunsword found his sword belt and wrapped it around his waist.  He tied the free end through the frog and pulled the leather tight.  “Though not with speech.  He does not need to speak to be heard.”

     “I didn’t know he could do that,” Finnian said quietly.  “Real gods, of course.  That’s all they do, is cloud our minds.  Say things to us…sweet things we never want to stop hearing.  But his voice hurts inside my head.”

     “I think that’s a good thing,” Cecily spoke from across the black abyss.  

     “What?” Finnian asked indignantly.  “You like having him in your head?  Why?  Because he’s the son of Malthus?”

     “I don’t like anything about him,” Cecily fired back.  “You are right, he is cruel and petty.  And his power may be great, but you cannot let your imagination make him more than he is,” Cecily admonished.  “He is only half a god.”

     “That doesn’t mean anything,” Finnian said to her.  “In fact, I think that makes him more dangerous than a full god.”  

     “How could he possibly be more dangerous?” Cecily scoffed.  “I have been watching Cassius since he began using his power; trying to get a sense of it.  It’s very clear that he is limited in what he can do.”  

     “He can do enough” Finnian pushed.  “You saw him burn those pirates.  You saw him afterwards, with the lightning.  Full god or no, he was terrible to behold.”

     “What about how he makes you feel?” Cecily would not back down.

     “What do you mean?” Finnian bit.

     “In the pit of your stomach,” Cecily clarified.  “That pull we feel, in the presence of divinity.  That hum of power.  It feels less with him.  He feels less.  Diminished.  Unlike any god I have ever seen.”

     “And how many gods have you seen, Cecily?” Tarsus asked her resignedly.

     “A few, in my lifetime,” Cecily answered, unsteadied by Tarsus’s question.

     “Finnian and I have seen many,” Tarsus said.  “Been in the presence of many.  It’s what happens when you live in a shepherd’s village.  Folk from all over pass through with their flocks, their homes, their families…and inevitably, some also bring their gods.”

     No one spoke, but Tarsus could feel the eyes of Cecily on him, waiting for him to make his point.

     “After meeting so many of these gods, you come to learn that they are both like and unlike us.  Some are great.  Some are not,” Tarsus concluded.

     “So you think Cassius is hiding his true power?” Cecily accused.

     “I think it is unwise to try and predict what a god can and cannot do, even a demigod.  They control a power that we cannot comprehend.  Best to learn of them by how they use their power.  And all the gods I have seen use it the same way; to expand their dominion.  Malthus, Malmira, even Cassius all work to make their kingdoms larger and stronger,” Tarsus finished.

     “Far be it for me to question the chosen of Cassius who knows so much of the gods,” Cecily bit back sarcastically.  “But not every god wants control.  Malthus…”

     “Malthus has the largest kingdom of them all,” Finnian interrupted.

     “To save us,” Cecily said.  “Because the other gods treat mortals no better than slaves.”

     “Cecily, have you been to any of the other kingdoms?” Tarsus asked.

     “No,” she answered defiantly.  

Silence was allowed to pad in, like a dog treading softly into a room of its sleeping masters.

     “I serve Malthus by choice,” Cecily said in angry, hushed tones.  “Not for his power or pride…not because of some manipulation.  I serve him for the love I have felt in his presence.  A love that I know to be real.

     Tarsus let out a small sigh.  

     “He is Malthus’s son, Cecily,” Tarsus said simply.  “How different do you think a son can be from his father?”

     “To the ship’s deck this instant!” the three of them perceived: the shrill voice of Cassius echoing in their minds.

     “Come,” Tarsus said to them.  “Let us go do what we came here to do.”