Beautiful young women were chosen from, for the Sundan king’s new bride. The most beautiful was chosen, but she was not merely the most beautiful of all women. Hester was no ordinary bride; she was not just a royal concubine to birth an heir. She was the daughter of the high priest of Elyte, patron deity of Sundan.
Hester became the queen of Sundan, empowered by a long lineage of priests. The great temple of Elyte, of Sundan, stood at the mouth of the Living River. Even the opulent palace of the Sundan throne was simple and small by comparison to the ancient basalt pyramid. The temple of Elyte had stood since the beginning of civilization.
The two armies of Sundan were of the king’s and of the high priest’s. With two armies there was a balance of power. With such power Sundan could not be threatened by foreign kingdoms.
All of the lands of Javarta paid tribute to the kingdom of Sundan and were under their protection. Sundan ruled over the tribes of primitive hunter-gatherers and crude villages of the surrounding jungles, the smaller kingdoms of Pada and Gung and the Living River. All of it was ruled in the name of their lawful king and also their benevolent god, Elyte. For hundreds of years their dynasties continued, unopposed.
The Sundan kingdom held the most wealth and power of all the lands of Javarta. The river ports imported all the finery that could be traded for the copper tools and weapons made in Sundan. Obsidian, tapestries, medicines and alchemy were all exported from Sundan river ports to the Stygian and Borean lands to the north. Even the black lotus and other famous herbs of sorcery had originally come from the jungles and gardens of Sundan.
When King Azrect’s father died, his heir was made king. The Sundan people were revelers and romantics. He was hailed as a heroic king that could defend them and bring greater prosperity to a people that were already the most prosperous of their time. The coronation was only a small celebration compared to the king’s wedding to Hester.
The people of Sundan were pious devotees, scholars, musicians, merchants, coppersmiths, surgeons and law-abiding citizens.
They were also conquerors. Before King Azrect chose a bride, he was a general in his father’s army. He had laid waste to the invading horde of the Phygians.
The Phygians were a nomadic people, their homeland lay in ruins under a divine glacier. They came from the furthest lands, destroying and devouring everything in their path. They were brutal subhumans, armed with bone clubs and stone axes and wearing masks made of human skin. They ate the dead of the battlefield and burned everything they couldn’t take with them.
Azrect the Destroyer came upon the Phygian Horde and did not fear their vast numbers. A vicious and blood-soaked battle ensued. The carnage stretched over a great distance as the horde charged again and again against the stalwart ranks of Sundan soldiers. When the fighting ended, most of the disciplined and armored soldiers of Sundan were still standing. Azrect had led them to victory and stood atop a pile of dead Phygians.
The Phygians all lay dead by the copper arrowheads and spear points. Their corpses were hacked to pieces and piled high by the blades of copper axes and swords. The heads of the Phygians were mounted on poles and left to line what was then named the Road of Skulls.
Then came the boat building people. Where they had come from and who they were was lost, even to them. They had come from the coastlands to the west of Javarta, a people that were erased from history by the advance of the Phygians. They walked the Road of Skulls and arrived at the Living River. There they built new boats and unfurled red sails brought with them as they wandered, starving and knowing only thievery and murder. They became raiders and plundered the villages along the tributaries of the Living River that flowed from Sundan.
When the red sails raided along the Living River, the high priest Muthlim demanded that the king take action. The sleek craft of the red sail people moved swiftly upstream and attacked by surprise, marauding and slaving. Their boldness had to be punished.
King Azrect left his trusted and wise queen with the throne of Sundan and took his army to punish the invaders. They marched out in armor made from copper plates and with an ax, a sword and a spear of copper for each soldier, as well as the woven cloaks of the king’s army. At the front of his soldiers marched King Azrect. He would not return unless the red sail people were all destroyed. His soldiers would follow him to their deaths. He called his army: “My sons”.
As time passed and the king’s army did not return, the high priest became confident that they would not. The army of the temple looked upon the palace, anticipating that Muthlim would seize power. He made no secret of his ambitions, saying to everyone that he would soon be king, because there was no heir. There was only one problem, he needed proof that the king was dead, making the queen a widow.
Whoever she married would become king of Sundan.
The few soldiers that returned spoke of a horrible battle in which both the king and the enemy were annihilated. Instead of arresting them for leaving their king behind, Queen Hester allowed them to keep their honor. They became the only guardians of the palace, for the king’s army was gone forever.
The high priest, his true nature revealed, denounced his daughter’s decision publicly. Muthlim proposed that a new king should be chosen by Hester, following the laws of Sundan. When no suitors defied the high priest’s ambitions, Muthlim demanded that she accept him as her husband.
Hester refused his advances.
The high priest did not accept his daughter’s scorn. He used the army of the temple to assault the palace, intending a coup, in the form of a forced marriage. When the palace siege was ended, Queen Hester stood before her father, High Priest Muthlim, on the holy day: Elythian.
She would not submit to him and used her fingernails to scratch his face. Muthlim, dripping blood, demanded justice. He had her arrested and sentenced to disfigurement by burning. There was no trial.
The queen was tied to the pillars of her own throne room and stripped. Copper swords were heated in the braziers used for burning the incense of Elythian. Then the acolytes took the swords and seared her skin with them. They drew patterns on her body and marked her beautiful face and sliced away her hair. The smell of her burning hair made many of the witnesses flee in horror, for it overwhelmed the fumes of the sacred braziers.
All the time they were burning her, she did not scream. Her hatred for her father silenced her and fed upon the pain. There was a look in her eyes that had learned to deny mercy. She became someone different during her ordeal. When they had finished with her: Queen Hester was banished, naked and suffering from the torture. She went to the Living River and her followers went with her. There she resided in agony as her wounds slowly healed.
Muthlim became a usurper, a self-appointed king and still the high priest. His temple army abandoned their barracks and moved into the palace. They despoiled it, treating it not as their new home, but as a conquered place. No repairs were made from the siege and most of the servants fled from the abuse.
While civil unrest weakened Sundan: the remaining red sails came. They were bold, expecting that the king’s army was the best defense of the rich kingdom. When they met no resistance, they continued all the way to the mouth of the Living River and found the great basalt pyramid undefended. The temple of Elyte stood unguarded and full of treasure.
The red sails left their boat and plundered the temple, touching all of the golden tears of Elyte. When the priests tried to stop them, warning them of the curse of their god, they were ignored. The chief of the red sails, Berek, grabbed one of the priests and asked:
“What do you mean this gold is cursed?” Berek asked, holding a handful of the teardrop shaped gold.
“When it is touched, a day and a night of agony will be yours. Only the absolution of the highest authority of Elyte can lift the curse. Undying pain will be yours for each moment you held the gold and for each tear of Elyte.” The priest, Amolthol, told the chief of the red sails.
“You are either a fool to believe that or a liar that thinks I am a fool.” Berek laughed and shoved the priest away.
“I am neither. I think you and your warriors will suffer in vain. The curse is not meant as a safeguard, it is simply a test from our god, Elyte.” Amolthol spoke from where he had landed on the floor.
“I see. You have a very clever wit. Perhaps there is something suspicious about all this unguarded gold. You will come with us, as a hostage.” Berek told the priest. He made a gesture and two of his men helped Amolthol to his feet and held him by his arms, taking him prisoner.
The red sails finished stealing as much gold as they could carry and left the temple. They began to head back the way they had come, when the first sensations of the curse began. One by one they became uncomfortable and then they became distressed. Finally, their bodies began to ache and hurt all over.
As the red sails succumbed to their distress, they grunted and growled and moaned. Their complaints needed no explanation. All of them had touched as many of the tears of Elyte as they could and most of them carried handfuls of it in their pockets and pouches. None of them had handled as much of it as their chief, Berek. He was soon in the throes of misery and with his voice strained and his face contorted, he again grabbed the priest, Amolthol.
“What is happening? Tell me again, the curse! What do we do? Rid ourselves of the gold?” Berek gripped the priest.
“That would be a wise first step. Take it back to the temple.” Amolthol told them.
The red sails, hoping to end their torment, returned all of the stolen gold in a pile at the foot of the great basalt temple. Then, taking their hostage, they fled. Some of them writhed and others sought to end their suffering by throwing themselves upon their copper swords.
Bruises and impalement only added to the pain. They were undying and their wounds did not bleed or bring death. They were screaming and cackling, being driven mad by their wretched state.
It was then that their boat landed where Queen Hester and her followers were camped along the Living River.
In her presence the red sails’ horrible state was greatly reduced. Her holy devotion to the god Elyte was like a soothing aura. While they still felt pain all over their bodies: it was no longer unbearable. Amolthol told the red sails:
“You are in the presence of the queen of this land and the daughter of the high priest of Elyte. That is why your suffering is lessened. If she were restored to her destined position then she would be the highest authority of Elyte. She could absolve you.”
“Then that is what she must do.” Berek said. He staggered towards her tent, pushing aside her followers. He flung it open and found her in a more pitiful state than even his cruel warrior’s heart could ignore.
Berek stared at the burned queen, her legendary beauty stolen, her youthfulness gone from her hate-filled eyes. He had never seen anything so awful and pitiful before. Many were the villagers he had killed or enslaved and he was an otherwise pitiless man, but his own suffering was mirrored a thousand times on the young queen he stared at. In a strange way he felt that he loved her.
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Berek, instead of making his demand of her at sword point, knelt and offered her his sword across his upturned hands.
“Who are you?” Queen Hester asked.
“Berek of the red sail people. I stole the tears of Elyte and I am cursed for it. I seek absolution, but I will do what I must for you, on my honor.” Berek swore.
“Your honor? The honor of a marauder? A slaver? I cannot give you absolution. My father holds both the throne and he also speaks for our god. If he were deposed then it would be me who holds the right to say you are forgiven.” Queen Hester told the red sail chief.
“I will prove the honor of my people. They will follow me to death, as the army of your king followed him against my own father, so too will my warriors follow me. I will follow you; I will give you my honor if you will lift the curse.” Berek swore to Queen Hester.
“Know that my father is the one who did this to me. He tried to force me to make him my husband and I refused. That is why I am without a kingdom and that is why I am scarred from burns. He did this to me when I drew his blood, giving me no trial. I was the most beautiful of all women. I was a queen and I was constant. This is my punishment for adhering to the most basic dignity a woman can expect. Look upon me, Berek. My pain is yours until you have fulfilled your pact. There is no other way!” Queen Hester spoke and her words were heard by all of the red sails, as they gathered behind their kneeling chief.
“All of us swear. Swear to this pact of suffering, all.” Berek said in the old language of the red sails. Long ago they too had a civilization, fallen from grace. It was not merely redemption for their dwindling tribe, but also for their ancestors. They all spoke his words aloud and with sincerity.
“There is no time like this moment, for our battle. What rest is there, for ones as wicked as you?” Queen Hester addressed all of the assembled warriors. “Stay close to me and your pain is much easier and your wounds cannot cause you to die, for your suffering is cursed. You have undying pain for the duration of your curses.”
“This we have learned. Before we knelt before you, the magnitude of our agony was excruciating, wilder and more savage than any torture could inflict. The cruelty of your benevolent god is ironic.” Berek replied with the honesty of a man with purpose.
“You have no idea.” Hester said under her breath, speaking to the thoughts in her mind of what she was going to do to her father when she had him at her mercy. ‘Cruelty’ would not cover the meaning of what she intended to do to him.
“Which way is it to your palace?” Berek asked.
“I will lead the way.” Queen Hester said with admirable resolve. Berek had felt a strange admiration, adoration, even a kind of love for her. When she led him and his warriors it was more than just a feeling. He had never followed a woman before, but Hester was more than just a woman. She was, in his eyes, his queen.
It was almost dawn when the band of red sail warriors arrived at the smashed and unguarded gates of the palace. Inside was the entire temple army. They didn’t bother to have a sentry.
“We cannot enter through the front gate.” Hester decided.
“Why not? It would be easy.” Berek pointed his drawn sword at the smashed gates.
“Because my father might escape. We must find him before the fighting begins.” Hester explained. Berek nodded as he realized that she was right.
“Truly you hunger for revenge.” Berek said with a strange tone of voice. Hester blinked at him, surprised. He sounded like he wanted her. She could not believe such a thing, for her beauty was entirely gone, her face and body were covered in patterned sword brands. As she turned from him, she could feel his eyes on her. Her heart was telling her that Berek desired her and not for her beauty.
“I shall have my revenge, Berek. It will be my legend, more than my beauty ever was.”
“And I shall see you.” Berek told her, walking behind her as she led him and his warriors around the palace.
“This entrance leads inside, directly to the royal chambers.” Hester pointed to a small door on a patio. The steps of it went down into a pool of water that was connected to the Living River. It was a royal bathing pool, disused.
The warriors hesitated as something massive stirred in the dark water. A human torso, with the head and limbs chewed off, lay on the steps. The massive reptile watched the warriors with impunity.
“What is that?” Berek asked Hester.
“Sarganki. A giant crocodile. Normally he would not be so bold, but the chaos and disorder have given him license. When all of this is over, I shall have him driven away by professional hunters.” Hester mused.
The warriors and the queen went inside the forgotten entrance and straight into the heart of the palace: the royal chambers. Tapestries of King Azrect were defiled and the queen paused and glared at the vandalism.
While she stared, Berek walked up behind her and spoke quietly:
“Your king was a brave man and a great warrior.” Berek said to her, placing his hands on her shoulders. Hester felt a shudder at his touch, but she did not admonish him or pull away.
“We have work to do.” Is what she said.
A female servant came around the corner and spotted them. She was about to raise the alarm when Hester suddenly grabbed the girl and drew her copper dagger across the servant’s throat and killed her, dropping the body onto the floor. “Show no mercy. Kill everyone you find, except Muthlim. He is to be taken alive, no matter what. I will invent justice for him and it will not be death.”
The warriors moved together, near her. If they got too far from her then their pain quickly became too much and they would collapse, writhing on the floor and crying out. Instead of that happening they stayed close, tethered to Queen Hester by their curse.
As they found the temple guards they killed them, stabbing them repeatedly with their Sundan-made copper swords and chopping them with stone axes. Some of the raiders had black bows, obsidian daggers or spears with bone tips that they used.
Then the alarm was raised.
The army of the temple came flooding towards the intruders from every corridor. The sound of battle rang out, copper on copper and screams of war. Their weapons broke in the clash and they took new ones from the dead as they went. Whenever a red sail warrior was struck down, he simply got back up and kept fighting, despite mortal wounds.
The soldiers of the temple had never fought in battles. They were numerous and well-armed and trained, but they had never known the life of a warrior. They fell as fast as they came, dying wherever they met a warrior of the red sail people. Their death cries were like music to Hester. She stood in the center of her warriors and they protected her.
Copper swords bent against helmets and broke as they cut through flesh and struck bone. Spears snapped and axes with stone heads shattered into ribcages. There was so much blood that it formed a red spray, a mist that could be tasted in the air.
The fighting continued, the temple soldiers were pressed towards their killers by those behind them in the narrow halls and the corridors of the palace. Every room and every staircase was filled with scattered corpses. Blood dripped from the stone beams and ran down the columns. The paved floors were stained with the blood of Hester’s enemies.
The red sail warriors could feel pain but they could not die, not as long as the curse remained. Instead, they fought on with swords driven into them, their hearts pierced, arrows sticking out of them and even with a hand or a foot cut off. Nothing could stop the cursed warriors.
They fought on, the battle raging. It continued until the bodies were piled high in the corridors and the temple guards and acolytes and disloyal servants were each found and killed. None were spared.
There was no escape for Muthlim.
Muthlim sat in dread, upon the stolen throne. The fighting seemed to be all around and the sound of battle came from every direction. The screams of the dying froze him in terror. He sat upon the throne and was still there when his daughter and her unkillable warriors came upon him. He stared at the blasphemy.
Never before had anyone in penance, the curse of Elyte, known battle. It was sacrilege, but at seeing it, he feared the cursed men and their bent and bloody copper swords. They limped and dragged themselves towards him, most of them already dead from so many mortal wounds, and yet they could not die, sustained as they were by the curse of Elyte’s tears.
The high priest had finally realized that the red sails were cursed by the tears of Elyte, but only when it was too late. The temple guards, the whole army, was slaughtered to the last man. The red sails had killed them all without mercy. Muthlim was alone and he was surrounded by unbleeding warriors with ghastly and horrifying injuries. They should be dead, all of them, but the curse would not let their suffering end until their penance was complete.
Muthlim raised his hands to absolve them in prayer. That is when he saw who had led them. His traitorous daughter, Hester. He forgot what he was doing as he looked upon her.
“Hester.” He snarled.
“It is I, father. I am the true queen and you are a false king, a false man. You betrayed me and all of Sundan.” Queen Hester accused him. “I denounce you as the high priest of Elyte.”
“You have no power to do that!” Muthlim yelled.
He was thrown down and his priestly vestments were stripped from him.
Hester went to him and took from him his priestly vestments and then she put them on and went and sat on the throne.
“Go ahead, say your prayers.” Queen Hester told him confidently.
Muthlim stood in his loincloth and prayed over the undying warriors that held him at spearpoint. The prayer was long and he repeated it several times, to no effect.
When they did not fall dead from their wounds, he grew grave. Hester was the new high priest of Elyte and she was also queen of Sundan. Muthlim had no power left.
He expected mercy from his daughter, believing her to be weak.
“What will you do with me? Exile me?” Muthlim asked. He did not know that the warriors surrounding him would not harm him. He stared at his daughter’s cold and merciless eyes. She had learned something horrible when he had punished her by burning her. Muthlim began trembling as he realized he was at her mercy, and that she had none.
“Bind him and I shall give you absolution.” Queen Hester told her warriors. They obeyed and when Muthlim was helplessly bound in ropes, they all knelt to receive a blessing from her god. She spoke the prayer over them and their pain was no more. Almost all of them bled out and died, their honor replenished.
A few of the red sail warriors still remained and their honor was to remain as her soldiers. Among the dead or the living, she did not see Berek, when she looked for him. She worried that he had fallen dead among the carnage of the palace when she had prayed for him.
“I have work to do.” She told herself. Muthlim heard her speak and asked, his voice weak and pathetic:
“What work will you do?” He whimpered.
“Amolthol!” Queen Hester yelled loudly. Her voice carried throughout the silent and blood-splattered halls of her palace. She waited and soon the priest arrived. He had stood, during the battle, outside the front gate and gladly obeyed her summoning.
“Yes, my queen.” Amolthol had seen the carnage and felt ill, but hid his feelings, in the name of justice.
“My justice will be revenge.” She told him.
“What form shall be seen as such?” Amolthol asked her.
“I sentence Muthlim to be the eternal vessel of all the tears of our god.” Queen Hester told the priest.
“My queen?” Amolthol trembled with dread at the realization of what she meant. The horror of it was almost unbearable.
“Carry this sentence out at once. Only you may touch the tears, so it is up to you to do my will and bring them here and fill this vessel. I shall wait and when you arrive: I shall watch him feast upon the tears of this ravaged kingdom. My justice, my revenge.” Queen Hester spoke in elaboration.
After he left, Muthlim begged her and pled with her and tried to sing to her. She just sat and stared with the same look that was in her eyes as when the burning of her flesh had taken her beauty and taught her about suffering. There was no mercy in her gaze, only cruelty and hatred.
It took until later in the day for Amolthol to return to the palace with all of the gold from the temple. The boatload of gold greatly outweighed the man who was to become its living vessel. It was carted into the chamber set aside for Muthlim.
Amolthol had everything ready to carry out Muthlim’s sentence. He looked to his queen for reassurance that it was her will to inflict such merciless justice. He hesitated and then forced open Muthlim’s mouth and inserted the first of many golden tears of Elyte.
Muthlim’s screams went on and on until he was filled to the brim. Then Hester instructed that the remainder of the tears be heaped upon him, leaving him trapped beneath their weight, forever. When the grim work was done, the chamber was sealed.
Amolthol set to work directing the removal of the many carcasses from the palace halls. Hester’s followers worked hard, wishing to restore their queen’s happiness and thinking that restoring her home would do. The buckets of blood were taken and poured upon the hill of dead temple soldiers before it was made into a great fire.
The red sails put their own dead upon their last boat and watched them sail away, downriver.
When Hester was satisfied that her vengeance was worthy of her hatred, she retired to the royal chambers. A dark and cold loneliness found her there. She felt empty and lost as she stared at the tapestries of King Azrect.
There was a stillness. Things were quiet and balanced, but also broken and ruined. She realized that her husband had known such moments after battle. She reveled in in, in her own sullen way.
There was someone with her, in the dark and lonesome royal chamber. She heard the footsteps approaching her and she didn’t turn around. She just stood there with her head low. Her head lifted as he spoke to her:
“Will you live alone, here in your palace?” Berek asked her.
She turned, seeing that he had survived the battle intact. Most of his warriors had fallen, but he and a few others had survived the deadly fighting. She thanked Elyte that he had not died when she absolved him of his blasphemy. Her god was merciful, in strange ways.
“My god has spared you.” Hester sighed.
“No, your god has preserved me for the worst agony of all.” Berek held his hand over his heart, as though he were wounded.
“And what agony would that be?” Hester stepped towards him, intent on helping the wounded man.
“I am in love.” Berek said plainly, opening his arms.
“With whom?” Hester hesitated.
Berek moved to Hester, reaching for her, saying: “Of all women, I find her to be the most beautiful.”