Faith United

[Breaker]

We lay on the sweat soaked sheets, the Thaynebinder gathered between us. Kinley cooed as I twined my fingers through her hair and trailed them down her naked back. Birdsong filtered through the open window and shadows played on the opposite wall. A sense of absolute peace washed over me as I relaxed in my lover’s bed.

A distant rumble awakened me. Had I slept? I rubbed my eyes and rolled to my feet as Kinley awakened, glancing first at me and then at the Thaynebinder.

“Josh? What was that noise? Are you going?”

“An explosion,” I said with dark certainty, “it sounded like it came from the camp.” I slipped into my dark tailored clothing and stepped into my black boots and kissed Kinley on the cheek. “Hide that back under the floorboards where you found it.” I smiled. “It will be our little secret.” The woman blushed crimson as I turned and raced from the room.

Rapid steps carried me out the door, through the meadow, and into the forest. Branches cracked and grass gave way beneath my boots as I sprinted toward the encampment, blood pulsating through the veins on my neck. What had happened? It couldn’t be a training accident… we didn’t keep any gunpowder weapons on hand. Yet.

An attack. It was the only rational explanation. Who would do such a thing? The faces of potential suspects swam through my sleepy mind as I bolted into the clearing surrounding the tent village.

The ground gaped in the center of the camp, as though a giant hand had reached down with a great spoon and scooped out a swathe of earth. Moans of soldiers injured and dying filled the air, interspersed by awful smells. The acrid odor of gunpowder hung heavy, seeping into my nostrils to stay.

“Sir,” one of my lieutenants came to attention as I passed him by. He was a compact Salvic man with a grizzled orange and grey beard and a bald pate. “The explosion came from your tent. We believe they used at least twenty pounds of gunpowder… it seems they were targeting you.”

I nodded and gripped the bracer fused to my right forearm through my sleeve. “How many dead?”

“A round score, and twice that many wounded.”

“Too many,” I said, looking up at the banner I’d designed myself. It featured the sigils of every Thayne in the pantheon, as well as those of several other deities. The beast-man of Hromagh, the winged woman of Y’edda, the scales of Jomil and of course the pitcher of Am’aleh. At the center stood the four-armed figure of Khal’jaren, its hands seeming to wave as the flag flapped in the wind.

How could the Thaynes allow this? How could I allow this? We must grow stronger, and more vigilant.

In time, we rebuilt and recovered from the explosion. Soldiers delivered the dismal news to the families of the fallen while others toiled to fill in the crater left by the blast. In the days and weeks that followed, more recruits signed up than ever before. Many young men and women who heard about the attack wanted to help defend their faith. The tent village expanded into a small town, with spiked wooden palisades, guarded gates, and regular patrols. Even so, I forced myself to stay awake and alert at all times. I prowled around the encampment, training warriors and always keeping an eye out for would-be attackers.

My fatigue felt heavier than a mountain, but I would bear the burden of many mountains for my lady. Once the wooden walls were finished I felt secure enough to leave the camp for a short time, and journeyed through the humid forest to the coast, where earth met sea. Am’aleh was there, waiting for me. She rose from the waves like an angelic specter, taking the form of the woman of water.

The sand crunched beneath my metal boots as I prowled to the waterline, stopping in front of the face of beauty.

“You fare well,” she said, pride bubbling in her voice.

“We have had setbacks,” I said, “but nothing will stop me from completing this mission.”

“I know of the explosion, of course. You may remember some of the powers I wield from the day you bound me. I have been listening where I can and where I may. I have heard whispers with truth at their roots. Agents of Khal’jaren plan to stop you and your cause, at any cost.”

The goddess reached out with both hands and placed the pads of her thumbs on my cheeks. She caressed the slender scar tissue there.

“Why is Khal’jaren against the Faith United?” I asked.

“He fears you may upset a delicate balance he himself arranged. He is at the middle of all things, and at the top.”

“How can I strike at such a god? Would the Thaynebineder-”

“Do not think of attempting to use that on him. Not yet. We must weaken him first.” Her fluid eyes sparkled. “We must drain the source of his power.”

“What is this source?”

“His worshipers. Remove his sigil from the banner, and replace it with my own. Remove memory of him from the temples you overtake, and slowly, you will sap his strength. Then and only then might you clap those manacles onto some of his many arms.”