Dzar-Ghan (Alien Barbarians of Vandruk #3)

2. Chapter 2

The site was just like I remembered it. Rocks, millions of rocks stacked one on the other, all the way up to the top of the mountain. Rocks discarded and thrown to the side, creating small hills in their own right. So many.

I could still see the blood on them even though the rain had washed it away years ago.

Ten years ago, each rock had born our bloody fingerprints, one indistinguishable from the other.

Anyone who didn’t already know of this place would have never guessed that hidden behind this massive rockslide lay a large cave, a holy cave, now the tomb of thousands of our gallies—females.

What had begun as the happiest, most pride-filled days of my life had turned into our darkest hour.

“Let them rest in peace. They’re gone, khadahr,” Nyhr-Shun, my First Blade—second-in-command—said in a quiet voice next to me. His words were almost verbatim to what my father had said weeks after the dark day. Let them rest in peace. They’re gone, son . It had been easy for him to say. He hadn’t loved my mother or sisters the way I had. His love had been reserved for my brothers and me. It had been a hard love until I finished the Khadahr Trials in triumph; after that, I had been the center of his life, and he mine, for a few fingerbreadths—how our time is measured—before the sun set anyway. Until I realized how little my mother and sisters had mattered to him.

My only consolation was that they had died together. Either quickly, broken under the rocks, or slowly, buried alive. Whichever path they had taken was their secret. What plagued me the most was the knowledge that they hadn’t been allowed entrance into Koronae. Only the souls whose bodies had paid their debt to Vandruk and Vorag were allowed to find peace in Koronae. Their bodies had to be buried and given back to the ground to nourish our planet and bring new life. Only then could their souls enter the afterlife.

“Forgive me, Mother, forgive me, Secylly, forgive me, Halana, and forgive me, Mynarra.” I prayed for my mother, sisters, and mate. Kneeling in front of the rocks, placing my hands on their warm surface as if that would bring me closer to the gallies I had lost ten years ago.

“It’s time, khadahr,” Nyhr-Shun urged.

It was; the sun was rising on the horizon, and we had a long march ahead of us. I kissed the closest stone bearing my mother’s name. Many of us had written the names of our loved ones on the rocks that would be stuck here for eternity.

“One day, I will set you free. I swear it on my soul,” I pledged like I did every year.

I made up my mind. “Promise me something, Nyhr-Shun.”

“Anything, khadahr,” he said, and I knew he meant it. He wasn’t only my First Blade; he was also my best friend and brother because he had been Secylly’s mate. He hadn’t only lost her but their three-month-old daughter as well. Our shared heartbreak had forged a brotherhood between us that was closer than my relationship to my blood brothers.

“If I can’t keep my oath, I want you to bring my body here and bury it under a pile of rocks.”

“Khadahr.” He looked at me horrified.

“Promise me.” I placed my hand on his shoulder and squeezed. “You are the only one I can trust with this.”

“I can’t…”

“Promise,” I reiterated harder.

“Sa—yes—khadahr,” he finally agreed.

“Good male. I knew I could count on you.”

“You will forfeit your soul,” he warned.

That was the idea: if I failed to make good on my promise and give these gallies’ souls the peace they deserved, then mine didn’t deserve to go to Koronae either. I wouldn’t have been able to stare into our great gods’ eyes or my ancestors’ knowing I had failed to do the one thing I had promised. I had tried to unite the other khadahrs to find ways to open the cave, but the majority of them had caved to the pressure of the priests. They had declared the site a holy place and forbidden any further attempts at excavating it. Only a handful of khadahrs had stood with me, but not enough to go against the majority. I was willing to risk a war between us, but not if I wasn’t sure I would win.

The priests’ outright ban of any further attempts to open the cave had been one of the many signs that had set me on my course of investigating them. I still wasn’t sure of my findings, not until I could get inside the damned cave.

My warriors stood at a respectful distance; having already said their goodbyes last night or early this morning, they were ready to leave. Each one of us carried the same burden of loss in our minds and hearts. Ten years might seem like a long time, but most of us had been denied a chance at a new life; most of us were stuck in the what-if … the what could have been because none of us had been able to find a new mate and start a new life.

The males’ faces were etched in grief, mirroring my own. We all had lost mothers, sisters, mates. We were all brothers in our grief and our inability to move forward. No more , I swore. We had to figure out a way to move forward.

As if Nyhr-Shun had read my mind, he asked, “Do you think Khadahr Tzar-Than’s plan will work?”

I turned my head to the side and caught a glimpse of the hopefulness in my First Blade’s expression. A short sting cut through my chest. It hurt seeing him ready to move on, even though I knew how much he had loved his mate and daughter, just as I had loved Mynarra, still loved. Maybe it was the same for him. Maybe he was just tired of being alone. Ten years was a long time to grieve and be without a mate. Or maybe, like for me, it was time to move on for him with our duties to bring heirs into this world.

For a moment, I lost myself in memories of the four of us, Nyhr-Shun, Secylly, Mynarra, and me, growing up together, running through the forests, swimming in the cool ponds of Catterground. How happy and free we had been, how inexperienced with the cruelties of life. The pain in my chest was my constant companion and reared a bit more when I allowed myself a rare moment of dreaming what could have been. My oldest son might have been nine or ten, depending on how quickly Mynarra would have conceived. Or I might have even had two or three more. Sons and daughters. They would have grown up with Nyhr-Shun and Secylly’s children just like we had. Then I buried that dream again. Down deep, where it always simmered.

Tzar-Than had confided in me that he was going to demand gallies from the humans to stop our species from going extinct. A foolish plan that would set him against the priests.

I didn’t really care for Tzar-Than’s idea. After all, it was the humans responsible for the death of our gallies, and they were our enemies, but his plan and the possibility of him clashing with the priests would play into my plan.

I didn’t share Nyhr-Shun’s longing for a new mate, but I needed partners if I wanted to succeed. I needed as many khadahrs on my side as possible. And if that meant I would have to take a human mate, then I would. As a khadahr, it was my responsibility to take a mate and sire young. My line needed to continue, so I needed heirs. I didn’t need to love a mate to have one. My heart was and would forever be bound to Mynarra.

“We will find out, but I promise you, Nyhr-Shun, you will find a mate. Either with the humans or with our gallies.” There weren’t many Vandruk gallies left, but by the gods, I would find one for Nyhr-Shun even if I had to beg the despicable priests.

His head tilted in question, but he restrained himself. I had already told him that what I had in mind was a dangerous undertaking, one I would keep close to my heart. The less he knew, the less of the priests’ wrath would be upon him. That was the only kindness I could give him and my warriors.

If my path led to death, I wasn’t going to take them with me. And if I was right… Vandruk would never be the same.

My suspicions of the High Priest began when the then High Priest left the Rodruk Mountains only days after the cave-in when we had still held hope that our gallies were alive, when we had still clawed at the never-ending rockslide, trying to free them.

Why would the High Priest leave us in our hour of need? That question had been on my mind ever since.

After we received the news of the red fog and I saw it for the first time with my own eyes, I journeyed to Mount Vladyck, the seat of our Temple and where our High Priest resided. I wanted to know why he and the other priests had left us to our despair, why the gods had seen fit to visit this tragedy on us.

But just as the High Priest didn’t have answers for me at the Rodruk Mountains, he didn’t have any more for me at Mount Vladyck either.

“I will pray on this, my son,” he said.

It took him four years to pray and talk to the gods, and he never did have an answer for me. Our new High Priest, Bzun-Lhan, didn’t have much to add. The gods are angry. They want us to avenge our gallies. These people coming through the red fog are evil and need to be killed , which was exactly what we had been doing since we discovered the fog.

Over the past few years, we hadn’t seen many more of our enemies coming through the red fog, putting our thirst for vengeance on hold just like our lives.

“What did the gallis say to you at the Temple, Khadahr?” Nyhr-Shun asked me for the hundredth time since we left Mount Vladyck three months ago. Because there were so few gallies left, the Temple had taken most of them in for their protection . If a male desired a mate, he had to visit the Temple and ask a priest if they had a match for him. The priests would sleep on it, and if there was a match, Vorag would show the right mate to them in their dreams.

Over the years, I had received several complaints from my subjects that they had traveled to the Temple, only to be told Vorag hadn’t chosen a mate for them. Unfortunate, but because there were only so few gallies, it hadn’t troubled me until about six months ago, when I was first approached by one of my best sword makers. The male was nervous talking to me, but he didn’t know what else to do. He confided that not only in my clan but others too, males were complaining about the priests not having any dreams for mates for males not so well off, whereas several wealthy merchants had received mates.

At first, I didn’t think much about it. It even made sense to me that Vorag would rather see a gallis mated to a male who could afford to take better care of her financially. It might not be right, but that was a reality I could accept.

But four months ago, a merchant came to me, asking for a credit. He was a very prosperous male, one of my most diligent traders, and I was inclined to help him, but when I inquired what he needed it for, and he told me he wanted to give a large gift to the Temple, alarms went off in my head.

He said he had made a pilgrimage to the Temple to seek a mate, and the priest had not dreamed of a mate for him that night but had said that sometimes large donations to the Temple would sway Vorag in their favor.

So I had traveled myself to find out what was happening at the Temple, only to find the priests greedy and conniving and the Temple filled with gallies of all ages.

I asked Bzun-Lhan why these gallies weren’t mated yet. Bzun-Lhan had appraised me and said, “Vorag hasn’t shown us the right mates for them yet. It has been a long time since your mate died, has it not?”

I nodded.

“If you’d like to spend the night, I can see if Vorag will show me a mate for you, Khadahr.”

Even after ten years, I hadn’t been ready to take a new mate yet, but something, maybe Vorag himself, held me back to decline the offer too quickly.

“Vorag has shown himself more swayed toward males who bring offerings to the Temple”—Bzun-Lhan’s voice had lowered—“for a promise of”—he pretended to think—“let’s say a third of your annual tithe I’m sure Vorag would smile at you in favor.”

My stomach had turned, and it took all my willpower not to run our High Priest through with my sword. I declined and turned abruptly, not being able to spend another fingerbreadth of time with this male.

“Maybe later then,” Bzun-Lhan called after me.

I don’t know what it was that made the old gallis approach me, maybe me declining Bzun-Lhan’s offer or maybe my barely contained disdain for the High Priest; either way, she appeared from out of nowhere, rose to her tiptoes, and whispered, They’re alive . Her words seared me like the Trial Mantle had on the last khadahr test. The only difference was that this pain had burned my gut, not my skin. Her words froze me, rooted me to the spot, and gave her time to vanish among all the other gallies. I hadn’t told Nyhr-Shun what she said then, and I wouldn’t do so now. It was enough for me to be on a fool’s errand, to risk everything on a chance. I would not pull the others with me. The price they would have to pay for my nonsense would be steep enough, but at least they would be alive and find new employ even if they had to give up their homes. My brothers would be furious, but they, too, would get over it. Or so I told myself when I gave Nyhr-Shun the same answer I had been giving him since we left the Temple. “Just foolish old gallis nonsense.”

Some days, I even believed that answer myself. Some days, I was convinced that the old gallis had been out of her mind. Other days, I wasn’t. Other days, I experienced the same searing sensation I had when she said those words. It was the same gut reaction a warrior had during battle when he sensed an enemy homing in on him. As little as I wanted to believe her, deep down in my heart, I knew her words had been true.

There was something wrong with our priests, and I would get to the bottom of it, just like I would open the cave and set the souls of our loved ones free before a civil war broke out.

But I couldn’t do it alone. I needed allies for that. And I needed the hated humans.

The people who had opened a passage out of thin air from one world to another had to be more technologically advanced than us, so it stood to reason that they would have the means to open the cave.

I wasn’t thrilled about it, but I would not only ask them for help, but I would also take a human gallis as my mate if it meant I would gain allies with more khadahrs. Khadahrs who were already going against the Temple.