Eddings, David – Tamuli – 02 – The Shining Ones

baffled by what you have done,’ he told them. ‘Why have you

given your children to Cyrgon?’

‘What.?’ Khwaj roared.

“It was our thought that you wished it so,’ Ulath said, feigning

surprise. ‘Did you not command your children to leave their

home-range and to walk for many sleeps across the ice-whichnever

-melts to this alien place?’

Khwaj howled, beating at the ground with his ape-like fists,

raising a cloud of dust and smoke from the ground.

‘When did this come to pass?’ Another voice, a voice filled

with a kind of gross slobbering, demanded.

Two full turns of the seasons, Ghnomb,’ Ulath answered the

question of the God of Eat. “It was our thought that you knew.

Blue Rose called you forth that we might ask why you have

done this. Our Gods wish to know why you have broken the

compact.’

‘Compact?’ Stragen asked after Sephrenia had translated.

“It’s an agreement,’ Flute explained. ‘We didn’t really want to

exterminate the Trolls, so we told the Troll-Gods that we’d leave

their children alone if they’d stay in the Thalesian mountains.’

‘When did this happen?’

‘Twenty-five thousand years ago – or so.’

Stragen swallowed hard.

‘Why are your children obeying Cyrgon if you did not command

it?’ Ulath asked.

One of the gigantic figures stretched out an abnormally long

arm, and the huge hand plunged into a kind of emptiness, vanishing

as it went in, almost as a stick seems to vanish when

poked into a forest pool. When the hand re-emerged, it held a

struggling Troll. The enormous God spoke, harshly demanding.

The language was clearly Trollish, snarling and roaring.

‘Now that’s interesting,’ Ulath murmured. “It appears that

even Trollish has changed over the years.’

‘What’s he saying?’ Sparhawk asked.

“I can’t entirely make it out,’ Ulath replied. “It’s so archaic that

I can’t understand most of the words. Zoka’s demanding some

answers, though.’

‘Zoka?’

‘The God of Mating.’ Ulath listened intently.

‘The Troll’s confused,’ he reported. ‘He says that they all

thought they were obeying their Gods. Cyrgon’s disguise must

have been nearly perfect. The Trolls are very close to their Gods,

and they’d probably recognize any ordinary attempt to deceive

them. ‘

Zoka roared and hurled the shrieking Troll back into emptiness.

‘Anakha!’ another of the vast Gods bellowed.

‘Which one is that?’ Sparhawk muttered.

‘Ghworg,’ Ulath replied quietly, ‘the God of Kill. Be a little

careful with him. He’s very short-tempered.’

‘Yes, Ghworg,’ Sparhawk responded to that vast brute.

‘Release us from your father’s grip. Let us go. We must reclaim

our children.’ There was blood dripping from the fangs of the

God of Kill. Sparhawk didn’t want to think about whose blood

it might be.

‘Let me,’ Ulath murmured. He raised his voice. ‘That is

beyond Anakha’s power, Ghworg,’ he replied. ‘The spell which

imprisoned you was of Ghwerig’s making. It is a Trollish spell,

and Anakha is untaught in such.’

‘We will teach him the spell.’

‘No!’ Flute suddenly broke in, throwing aside her pretense of

merely observing. ‘These are my children. I will not permit you

to contaminate them with Trollish spells.’

‘We beg you, Child Goddess Set us free! Our children stray

from us!’

‘My family will never agree. Your children look upon our

children as food. If Anakha frees you, your children will devour

ours. It cannot be.’

‘Ghnomb!’ ~hwaj roared. ‘Give her surety!’

The huge face of the God of Eat twisted in agony. “I cannot!’

It was almost a wail. “It would lessen me! Our children must eat.

All that lives must be food!’

‘Our children are lost unless you agree!’ The grass around the

feet of the God of Fire began to smoke.

“I think I see a toe-hold here,’ Ulath said in Elenic. he spoke

again in Trollish. ‘There is justice in Ghnomb’s words,’ he told

the Gods. ‘Why should he alone lessen himself? Each must also accept

lessening. Ghnomb will not accept less.”

“It speaks truly’ ghnomb howled. “I will not be lessened

unless all are lessened!’

The four other Troll-Gods squirmed, their faces reflecting the

same agony that had marked Ghnomb’s.

‘What will satisfy you?’ It was the voice of the God that had

not yet spoken. There were blizzards in that voice.

‘The God of Ice,’ Ulath identified the speaker, ‘Schlee.’

‘Lessen yourselves,’ Ghnomb demanded stubbornly. “I will

not if you will not!’

‘Trolls,’ Aphrael sighed, rolling her eyes. ‘Will you accept my

mediation in this?’ she demanded of the monstrous deities.

‘We will hear your words, Aphrael,’ Ghworg replied doubtfully.

‘Our purposes are the same,’ the Child Goddess began.

Sparhawk groaned.

‘What’s wrong?’ Ulath asked quickly.

‘She’s going to make a speech – now of all time proportions.”

‘Shut up, Sparhawk!’ the Child Goddess snapped. “I know

what I’m doing.’ She turned to face the Troll-Gods again. ‘Cyrgon

deceived your children,’ she began. ‘He brought them

across the ice-which-never-melts to this place to make war on

my children. Cyrgon must be punished!’

The Troll-Gods roared their agreement.

‘Will you join with me and my family to cause hurt to Cyrgon

for what he has done?’

‘We will cause hurt to him by ourselves, Aphrael,’ Ghworg

snarled.

‘And how many of your children will die if you do? My children

can pursue the children of Cyrgon into the lands of the

sun, where your children die. Should we not join then that

Cyrgon will suffer more?’

‘There is wisdom in her words,’ Schlee said to his fellows.

The breath of the God of Ice steamed in the air, though it was

not really that cold, and glittering snowflakes appeared out of

nowhere to settle on his massive shoulders.

‘Ghnomb must agree that your children will no longer eat

mine,’ Aphrael bored in. ‘if he does not, Anakha will not free

you from his father’s grip.’

Ghnomb groaned.

‘Ghnomb must do this,’ she insisted. ‘if he does not, I will not

permit Anakha to free you, and Cyrgon will keep your children.

Ghnomb will not agree to this if each of you will not accept equal

lessening. Ghworg! You must no longer drive your children to

kill mine!’

Ghworg raised both huge arms and howled.

‘Khwaj!’ she continued inexorably. ‘You must curb the fires

which rage through the forests of Thalesia each year when the

sun returns to the lands of the north.’

Khwaj stifled a sob.

‘Schlee!’ ~APhrael barked. ‘You must hold back the rivers of

ice which crawl down the sides of the mountains. Let them melt

when they reach the valleys.’

‘No!’ Schlee wailed.

‘Then you have lost all your children. Hold back the ice or

you will weep alone in the wastes of the north. Zoka! No more

than two offspring can issue from each she-Troll.’

‘Never.’ Zoka bellowed. ‘My children must mate!’

‘Your children are now Cyrgon’s. Will you aid Cyrgon’

increase?’ She paused, her eyes narrowing. ‘One last agreement

will I have from you all, or I will not let Anakha free you.’

‘What is your demand, Aphrael?’ Schlee asked in his ice-choked

voice.

‘Your children are immortal. Mine are not. Your children must

also die – each in an appointed time.’

They exploded in an absolute rage.

‘Return them to their prison, Anakha,’ Aphrael said. ‘They

will not agree. The bargaining is done.’ She said it in Trollish,

so it was obviously intended for the benefit of the raging

Troll-Gods.

‘Wait!’ Khwaj shouted. ‘Wait!’

‘Well?’ she said.

‘Let us go apart from you and your children that we may

consider this monstrous demand.’

‘Do not be long,’ she said to them. “I have little patience.’

The five vast beings withdrew further out into the pasture.

‘Weren’t you pushing them a little far?’ Sephrenia suggested.

‘That last demand of yours may very well kill any chance of

reaching an agreement.’

“I don’t think so,’ Aphrael replied. ‘The Troll-Gods can’t think

that far into the future. They live for now, and right now the

most important thing for them is taking their Trolls back from

Cyrgon.’ She sighed. ‘The last demand is the most important,

really. Humans and Trolls can’t live in the same world. One or

the other has to leave. I’d rather that it was the Trolls, wouldn’t

you?’

‘You’re very cruel, Aphrael. You’re forcing the Troll-Gods to

assist in the extermination of their own worshipers.’

‘The Trolls are doomed anyway,’ the Child Goddess sighed.

‘There are just too many humans in the world. If the Trolls

suddenly become mortal, they’ll just slip away peacefully. If you

humans have to kill them all, half of your number will die with

them. I’m just as moral as the rest of the Gods. I love my

children, and I don’t want half of them killed and eaten

in the mountains of Thalesia in some war to the death with the

Trolls.’

‘Sparhawk,’ Stragen said, ‘didn’t Khwaj do something that

made it possible for you to watch Martel and listen to him talking

when we were going across Pelosia toward Zemoch?’

Sparhawk nodded.

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