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Call of the Pagan God

Call of the Pagan God

Lahmi walked around the destroyed throne of the Unknown.

Where he had yelled and argued with the elders. Where he took the head of one who dared doubt his ways.

Now, in the destroyed throne, was the armor of the governor.

Hung by huge ropes, with pieces of flesh and blood stains still on it.

Lahmi pulled his robes tight as he stared upon the small, child like armor.

At least to him it was child like. And he was smaller than most the giants.

"Jalut would be proud," Lahmi said to himself out loud. "He would let them all know."

Lahmi then walked towards the edge of the throne, looking over the Unknown.

Let them all know.

The sun was setting. Night was upon them.

Someone would hear it. And they would tell of it.

Lahmi reached into the bowels of his being, and let roar a war cry.

It was the loudest, most sinister, threatening, blood curling yell heard since Jalut.

It echoed over the valley. It was a song. It was a ballad. It was a declaration.

Lahmi refused to let the screaming stop, as his eyes turned red and his veins popped in his neck and forehead.

Finally, he stopped and fell to his knees.

He briefly saw the human followers bowing to him from far below, before he passed out.

The first camp was made.

The mood was jovial. Drink was brought. Food was hunted.

Stories were told. A few friendly fistfights were going on, and nobody stopped them.

The hatred between the warriors had to come out somehow.

The camp was on a bare hillside, right out of the treeline and into a more harsh world. Not quite a desert, but not a forest or dry world either.

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It was just, nothing.

That was the way to the Unknown. And eventually, to the river and Elah.

Elhanan stood on the hillside, looking at the sky.

He thought about the old wars and the ones to come. How he was older than anyone here, and yet he looked the youngest of them all.

Elhanan frowned, knowing the giant's cursed sword was with him.

A presence was felt and Elhanan turned.

Joab and Abishai slowly approached, with Kai right behind.

He welcomed them and motioned them forward.

"Has it always been this dead out here?" Kai asked.

"Yes," Elhanan replied. "This is the nice part."

"How do the giants survive?" Kai's next question came quick.

"Too many questions, young warrior," Joab grunted.

Abishai smiled.

"Elhanan, I didn't know we would ever ride together again," Abishai said, thinking of the complicated history with the one next to him.

"Ride together or against? It has been both," Elhanan responded. "I was at peace. I wanted nothing to do with this. The damn giants."

Suddenly, the winds moved. The silence of the night was not silent anymore.

And a booming voice was heard. Not loud. Almost a whisper by the time it had reached them. Like a ghost calling to every ear.

It was heard over the laughter and the drinking. Each warrior could hear it.

They all stopped and stood, looking at their leaders on the hillside, who were intent on listening to the evil cry.

Lahmi's voice continued to taunt them.

Elhanan's face became like stone.

Abishai took a deep breath, knowing his warring days were returning.

Kai looked as if he had heard the dead.

"A giant?" Kai finally asked.

"Yes," Elhanan responded.

"Lahmi," Abishai spoke up. "The Goliath's brother."

Elhanan grimaced.

"How do you know?" Elhanan asked respectfully.

"I know. So do you," Abishai said curtly.

Elhanan did not disagree.

"What is it? Why he is doing that?" Kai panic kicked in. "Are they near?"

"No. Not very. It is a victory cry," Abishai replied.

"Why a victory cry? They have not won the war," Kai asked, peering out into the darkness.

"Not yet," Joab finally broke his silence.

They all turned to see him.

His face and posture once again became the battle leader. The one who men followed and respected. Who all feared.

He growled and snarled and his hands turned and his face became red.

"That is the call of a pagan god," Joab spit. "We're going to split up. We are going to attack the Unknown first."