Page 14 of Rise of the Gods: Vardor's Destiny
"Warriors of Orasis," Vaelora's voice carried strongly over our camp. "I give you your High Warlord Vardor!"
Loud cheering broke out from the ranks of soldiers, echoing through the valley where we had put up our camp in a near-deafening crescendo. Vaelora grabbed my hand and interlinked it with hers before she raised our fists in the air, pumping them in rhythm with the chanting of our names.
A satisfied smile curled the edges of her lips, her eyes gleamed, and a golden shimmer engulfed her, growing with every cry of her name.
After what seemed like an eternity, she lowered our arms and used both of hers to quieten the warriors.
"Today will be a day of change. A day of celebration, but also a dangerous day. Will you swear that you will protect your High Warlord with your lives?"
As one, my soldiers bent their knees, pulled their swords, and hit their crests, worn over their left shoulder, with the dull side. The usually subdued sound was magnified by thousands, ringinglike thunder and reverberating through my body and soul, filling me with pride.
I raised my sword as well, hitting the crest representing my service to Orasis hard. "I hereby solemnly pledge my life to the service of the goddess Vaelora and to each one of you. There will be no fight I won't be part of, there will be no drop of blood falling without my heart bleeding, there will be no sacrifice made without me sacrificing as well. I vow to stand at your side, to shield you in battle, and to honor the goddess with every breath I take, until my life is forfeited or her will is fulfilled."
More cheering broke out, and Vaelora’s eyes shone with satisfaction as she nodded imperceptibly at me. “Well done, Vardor. You just proved that I chose well.”
None of us knew what cause we had pledged ourselves to, but having been selected by a goddess left little room for denying her.
“Let’s ride!” I grabbed the reins. The stallions anxiously pawing the ground were ready to go. The chariot jerked, and I used this movement as an excuse to place my free hand on the small of Vaelora’s back to steady her. She looked up at me through her thick eyelashes, a twinkle in her eyes telling me that she was well aware of my ploy but didn’t mind it. And so we entered Nemet-Xy.
Tens of thousands of people lined the streets. Lotus petals covered the ground like snow and more were thrown into the air, the chanting only growing in strength when the citizens realized who the woman by my side was. With each cry of Vaelora’s name, the goddess shimmered more golden.
People were everywhere, lining the streets, standing on balconies and windows, rejoicing in my triumphal entrance. It was an almost endless procession. Soldiers on horseback followed my chariot, followed by foot soldiers and archers. The prisoners we had taken from Khesara were at the end of theprocession. Beaten and subdued men, women, and children. Some were slaves of the warriors who had claimed them. Others, including the nobles we had captured, belonged now to Orasis for our King Maldrin to decide on their fate. The most notable among the prisoners was Princess Drahya, the king of Khesara's daughter. In a missive, King Maldrin had offered the Princess' hand in marriage to me, but I had declined. I was a warrior, not a statesman, and I had no interest in binding myself to royal politics or a throne. My rejection of the offer had been a royal affront to Maldrin, and his reply had been curt and laced with displeasure. I was sure I had made our animosity worse with my refusal, but if it came to a tug of power, he knew he stood on the losing end. The troops were loyal to me and me alone.
We reached the grand temple where King Maldrin and High Priest Raahet stood at its highest steps, flanked by the royal family and several other priests who had found favor with either Raahet or our three gods—whose absence was telling of their disdain for us mere mortals.
The chariot came to a stop, and I helped Vaelora down and toward the stairs. Haughtily she stared up the over fifty marble steps. There was no way around it but for us to climb them. Her contempt for having to do so was palpable. I would have carried her, but that would have looked like a weakness on her part, so I fell in step behind her, leaving two paces between us to show my respect for her.
Raahet moved forward once we reached the landing, his expression barely controlled, betraying the rage boiling inside him. "What is this?"
With a jerk of his head, he indicated the crown on my head. "Only kings and gods wear crowns. Has the success in Khesara gone to your head? Are you challenging our rightful king? The one who the gods shine on in pleasure?"
Before I could answer, Vaelora moved in between us, "How dare you address the High Warlord of Orasis like such? Who are you, little mortal?"
"I am the High Priest of Orasis, Nemet-Xy." Raahet puffed his chest out.
"On your knees, mortal," Vaelora shouted.
The entire city below us had fallen silent, hoping to catch our words drifting down.
I wasn't sure what was expected of me, but I was sure how to handle men and women who didn't show the goddess Vaelora the respect she deserved. I pulled my sword, "I believe the goddess gave you a command."
Royal and temple guards stood by the many columns. They didn't fall under my command, yet they knew who I was. Reluctantly, some pulled their swords.
"What are you fools waiting for? Slay the man daring to raise his weapon against your High Priest," King Maldrin shouted.
The ringing of swords being pulled from metallic scabbards was loud, but the ringing from below as thousands of my warriors pulled theirs drowned the sound out.
Sweat beaded down Raahet's body, his eyes nearly bulging with fear. "I beg your pardon, goddess, but I am the high priest, sworn to only bow before the gods."
"I am a goddess," Vaelora's voice was demanding. "You owe me the same respect you do my brothers, High Priest. You have forgotten me for far too long; this will change. Here and now. On. Your. Knees!"
Ever so slowly, Raahet began to bow his knee, looking heavenward as if expecting The Divine Triumvirate—as the three brothers liked to be called—to appear at any moment to save him.
They didn't. Not yet. Raahet bowed, and Vaelora held out her hand. On her middle finger sat a golden ring with a large blackpearl in its center. Hesitantly Raahet took hold of her hand and kissed the ring.
"Now, that wasn't so hard, was it?" Vaelora mocked, and her eyes turned to me. "Acknowledge your High Warlord."
I had never sought to have men grovel in front of me, but I would be lying if I said I didn't feel a certain amount of satisfaction as Raahet bent his knee before me next.
