Now the Binder had told him that there was One Greater. . . and they were to fight together, as before.
How insolently he had stood in his Red and his Power! That day. Over half a century ago. By the Vedra.
To destroy Yama-Dharma, to defeat Death, would prove Taraka supreme. . . .
To prove Taraka supreme was more important than defeating the gods, who must one day pass, anyhow, for they were not of the Rakasha.
Therefore, the Binder’s message to Nirriti—to which he had said Nirriti would agree—would be spoken only to the storm, and Taraka would look upon its flames and know that it spoke true.
For the storm never lies . . . and it always says No!
The dark sergeant brought him into camp. He had been resplendent in his armor, with its bright trappings, and he had not been captured; he had walked up to him and stated that he had a message for Nirriti. For this reason, the sergeant decided against slaying him immediately. He took his weapons, conducted him into the camp — there in the wood near Lananda—and left him under guard while he consulted his leader.
Nirriti and Olvegg sat within a black tent. A map of Lananda was spread before them.
When they permitted him to bring the prisoner into the tent, Nirriti regarded him and dismissed the sergeant.
“Who are you?” he asked.
“Ganesha of the City. The same who aided you in your flight from Heaven.”
Nirriti appeared to consider this.
“Well do I remember my one friend from the old days,” he said. “Why have you come to me?”
“Because the time is propitious to do so. You have finally undertaken the great crusade.”
“Yes.”
“I would hold privy counsel with you concerning it.”
“Speak then.”
“What of this fellow?”
“To speak before Jan Olvegg is to speak before me. Say what is on your mind.”
“Olvegg?”
“Yes.”
“Just so. I have come to tell you that the Gods of the City are weak. Too weak, I feel, to defeat you.”
“I had felt this to be true.”
“But they are not so weak as to be unable to hurt you immensely when they do move. Things might hang in the balance if they muster all their forces at the proper moment.”
“I came to battle with this in mind, also.”
“Better your victory be less costly. You know I am a Christian sympathizer.”
“What is it you have in mind?”
“I volunteered to lead some guerrilla fighting solely to tell you that Lananda is yours. They will not defend it. If you continue to move as you have—not consolidating your gains—and you move upon Khaipur, Brahma will not defend it either. But when you come to Kilbar, your forces weakened from the battles for the first three cities and from these, our raids along the way, then will Brahma strike with the full might of Heaven, that you may go down to defeat before the walls of Kilbar. All the powers of the Celestial City have been readied. They wait for you to dare the gates of the fourth city of the river.”
“I see. That is good to know. Then they do fear that which I bear.”
“Of course. Will you bear it as far as Kilbar?”
“Yes. And I will win in Kilbar, also. I shall send for my mightiest weapons before we attack that city. The powers which I have held back to use upon the Celestial City itself will be unleashed upon my enemies when they come to the defense of doomed Kilbar.”
“They, too, will bring mighty weapons.”
“Then, when we meet, the outcome will lie neither in their hands nor in my hands, really.”
“There is a way to tip the balance even further, Renfrew.”
“Oh? What else have you in mind?”
“Many of the demigods are dissatisfied with the situation in the City. They had wanted a prolonged campaign against Accelerationism and against the followers of Tathagatha. They were disappointed when this did not follow Keenset. Also, Lord Indra has been recalled from the eastern continent, where he was carrying the war against the witches. Indra could be made to appreciate the sentiments of the demigods—and his followers will come hot from another battlefield.”