Serpent Goddess: The Horse Lords Book 1 Read online

  Flinching involuntarily under the sorcerer’s sly calculating gaze, Sava pulled himself together. Then he glared back into the seer’s red-rimmed gray eyes, letting his revulsion show -

  Don’t stare at me – You filthy Throat Slasher!

  Xobash had always been old but never seemed to age. People whispered the priest had his agents secretly buy or steal children from other tribes. These he sacrificed to the Black Serpent and drank their blood to maintain his vitality. The priest committed these acts in lonely places during his sojourns away to `speak with the gods’.

  The priest’s origins were a mystery. He had just appeared one day during King Raymaxos’ father’s time - a lone figure dressed in black robes marching across the Sea of Grass. His right hand grasped the black viper-headed staff of Velesh, Black Serpent of the Under World. People whispered the priest was not a blessing but a curse sent by the god.

  Xobash had been part of a cabal of 12 ennerei who accused the high seer of Royal Skythia, Sarpedon, of making false prophecies. As a result, Sarpedon was burned to death. Sava knew the story well because Sarpedon was his mother’s first husband.

  People whispered that Sava was actually the son of Sarpedon and this was the reason he was so unlike Skopasis. However Sarpedon had been over a year before Sava’s birth. But then nothing was impossible in the fantastic imagination of the people.

  After Sarpedon’s death, the cabal leader, one Zoltan, had risen to Sarpedon’s place as high seer of Royal Skythia. At the same time Xobash had taken Zoltan’s place as high seer of the closely allied Sauromatae.

  It was all too much of a coincidence in the eyes of many, but they dared not speak out openly. These ennerei, `half men’, were utterly ruthless. They could demand that your best horse be sacrificed on the next holy day. Or that your child be sacrificed in the Dark House as a companion for some deceased royal. Nay it was better, safer to remain silent…

  Chapter 3 – The Mission

  513 BC - After the capture of Babylon

  Great King Darius of Persia invaded Skythia.

  The Royal Skythians had previously invaded and conquered Medea.

  Thus they had begun the wrongdoing and

  Darius, having immense revenue and unlimited men

  Was anxious to have his revenge –

  Herodotus, The Histories

  “An urgent message has come to us from King Idanthrysus.” Raymaxos’ expression was grim. “King Darius of Persia has assembled a great host to conquer Royal Skythia. Already he has crossed the Bosporus on a huge bridge of boats and invaded Thrakia. ”

  There was a repressed gasp. This could mean only one thing - War.

  “How long before the Persians get here?” Boreas asked.

  “Not long. Three, four moons. After Darius subdues the Thrakians he will go after the Getae. Then his engineers will build a bridge of boats across the River Ister into Skythia.”

  “How big is Darius’ army?” Razmik asked.

  “It is said Darius has 700,000 men, both foot and horse.” Raymaxos said.

  700,000 warriors?! The air in the tight space of the kibitka quivered with a communal gasp. Who are we to stand against that?

  “King Idanthrysus has called for a council of war to be held in Tanais.” Skopasis said. “The question before us is this – Should we ally with Royal Skythia against Persia?”

  “What do the omens say?” King Raymaxos asked Xobash.

  “I have beseeched Ah-Gin for guidance. I have read the omens both by the wands and by sacrificial entrails. The portents are not bad but they are not good either. We should wait until the omens are favorable.” The seer replied.

  Ah, so the omens are not good nor are they bad. Typical. As usual Xobash makes a safe prediction, Sava thought. Now we waste time waiting for a good omen while disaster rolls down on our heads.

  “How long must we delay waiting for the right omen? Until it is too late?” Skopasis’ voice was a decisive whip. “If we just stand by and let Royal Skythia be destroyed, what happens when the Persians come for us? And they will come. Darius knows Sauromatia is rich in gold. We will be isolated. Easy prey. Darius will demand that we throw our faces in the dirt - or be destroyed.”

  “Never! We are free men! Free as the Wind. If Darius tries to catch us, all he will catch is the wind!” Boreas exclaimed.

  “Aye, we are free! Darius will never put his foot on our necks!” Came affirmations from the others.

  “If not for Royal Skythia, we Sauromatae would not even exist. We will never forget this. Royal Skythia made us.” King Raymaxos said. “So what say you my friends? Should we stand by Royal Skythia in her time of greatest need?”

  “The Royal Skythians are our brothers by blood. The only way we will ever turn our backs on them is to guard their backs!” Skopasis’ deep, compelling voice was emphatic.

  “Arkatash - Back to Back!” Others called out, carried away by the moment. But a cold arrow shot down Sava’s spine.

  Loyalty is a noble sentiment but this could be suicide. How can we defeat a trained, equipped army of 700,000? We are nomads. Wanderers. We are not united. We don’t even know how many warriors we have.

  He noticed Queen Gula and his mother Dragana remained silent neither applauding nor denouncing the fateful commitment to ally with Royal Skythia.

  Doubtless they wonder how many noble Sauromatian sons will die trying to save Royal Skythia from its fate.

  Sava saw King Raymaxos’ brother, Lord Razmik shake his grizzled head and exchange a glance with the seer.

  Razmik also doubts this rash decision. But then a catastrophic loss against Persia would cast doubt over Skopasis’ leadership and play right into Razmik’s hand…He has always been jealous of Father’s position as great voivode.

  “So be it,” King Raymaxos nodded. “We will go to the war council, even if the omens are not favorable. King Idanthrysus has asked that we Sauromatae do Royal Skythia the favor of sending an emissary to convince the seven most powerful Skythian tribes to come to the council.”

  “Why does Idanthrysus want us to do it? Why doesn’t he send his own messengers?” Lord Razmik asked.

  “Darius claims he comes to punish only Royal Skythia for their invasion of Medea. But this is a ruse to spread division among the tribes,” Raymaxos answered. “Idanthrysus doesn’t want to be seen as begging for help. Strategically it is better for a strong ally, like Sauromatia, to press for an alliance.”

  “Our emissary should be a man who speaks well. One who is calm, observant and knows how to listen. A man who can see behind the mask. Who can sense the truth in mens’ hearts. He will act as our eyes and ears and report back so that we know in advance how the nobles stand.” Here King Raymaxos gazed directly at Sava.

  Unwavering, Sava returned the king’s gaze. A thrill ran down his spine. Am I to be named Royal Emissary?

  King Raymaxos had been Sava’s mentor when his own father had lost patience with him. Despite years of intense, humiliating pressure, Sava had refused to drink blood or chop off heads as trophies. No scalps dangled from his bridle reins.

  This was the constant thorn in his side - he had failed to live up to his sire’s heroic legacy. He had been judged and found unworthy. Whereas Hahq was the image of a dutiful Sauromatian son and noble warrior.

  For the hundredth time, Sava compared his father and Hahq. Their looks, mannerisms and speech. Seeing the two men at such close quarters spoke louder than words. People whispered that Hahq, not Sava, was Skopasis’ eldest and most worthy son.

  Among the Sauromatae there was no shame in being illegitimate. Skopasis was a hero, featured in stories told around campfires. All the clans had a voivode, but Skopasis was Great Voivode of all Sauromatia.

  It was expected, even desired, that Skopasis should sire many children. Dynamic, charismatic, physically powerful leaders like him came along once in a generation. Such men were essential to the survival of the people. The seed of such an exceptional chieftain should be spread wide.

/>   Illegitimate children were explained via `immaculate conception’ as sired by a strigoi, an undead spirit, or even by a god. Thus outstanding bastards, such as the Greek hero Herakles, from whom both Greeks and Skythians claimed descent, could be looked up to and respected – half mortal, half divine.

  Sava knew it pained Hahq that Skopasis had not recognized him as his son. Lineage was also hugely important. But the rank of voivode was not awarded by birth. It was earned by a warrior’s own hand and by the respect of his fellows. Thus Hahq could still rise high even without recognition from Skopasis. But Hahq desired it. Desperately. And this was the root of the problem, the resentment Hahq showed toward Sava.

  “Your time has come Sava,” The king’s voice snapped him back to the discussion. “You will be our emissary. You will travel across Skythia to bring the seven tribes to the war council. Will you do this for your people?”

  Holding his breath, Sava nodded. At last - a chance to prove my worth. “My King, I swear upon your sacred hearth, upon my life and by all the gods - I will do my absolute best to contact the seven tribes and bring them to the council.”

  “Good.” King Raymaxos’ expressive eyes flared a special message of confidence to Sava. “You have a long journey ahead. You will carry the summons to the Geloni, the Budini, the Melanchaeni, the Androphagi, the Tauri, the Neuri and the Agathyrsi.”

  “Hahq you will go too. Select an escort of five warriors,” Skopasis said. “Make sure each man is well armed and mounted on a fast horse with a spare. Take any weapons or horses you need from my stocks. You will command the men Hahq, but Sava will have the final say.“

  At those words Sava almost laughed out loud. Hahq take orders from ME?

  He knew that would not last. Once they got out on the open steppes it would be all Hahq. He was the dominant personality, proven in multiple campaigns. The men would listen to Hahq first, last and always.

  Next to him, Sava felt Hahq tense. A proud man, he was being subjected to a secondary position under Sava. But if Hahq felt slighted his expression revealed only sincere willingness to do his duty. And Sava wondered how they would get along on such a long arduous journey.

  “You actually think to unite the nine tribes against the greatest empire on earth? Tribes whose main claim to fame has been killing each other? Hah. This I have to see.” Narek lifted his hands to ward off Skopasis’ evil eye. “But don’t listen to me. Send out your `emissary’. See how far you get.”

  “So be it then. Sava you and Hahq leave at dawn tomorrow,” King Raymaxos said.

  Chapter 4 – Iron-Eyed Feliks

  Sauromatians cover vast spaces

  In their movements

  Whether in pursuit or retreat

  Their horses being swift

  And very manageable -

  Ammanius Marcellinus, Roman officer, Res Gestae (Things Done)

  ”Here is your route.” King Raymaxos’ finger traced across the leather map. “Ride toward the setting sun five days until you come to the Tanais (Don) River. Our vassals, the Sindhi abide there. They are peaceful farmers. Take a ferry across the Tanais then ride four days north along the river to Gelonus. The Geloni are half Greek but they are friendly.”

  “From Gelonus you will go on to see the Budini king, Konrad. Then on to Melanchaenia, land of the Black Cloaks. From there go to Androphagia, home of the Man Eaters. Then seek out those wolf-wizards, the Neuri. From Neuria head west to gold-rich Agathyrsia, then turn south to Taurica.” The king’s finger followed along the etched border lines. “From Taurica, follow the Euxine (Black Sea) coastline to Royal Skythia. The war council will be held near the Greek port of Tanais at the mouth of the Tanais River on the Euxine.”

  “Do we have a guide?” Hahq asked.

  “Gagik here.” Raymaxos pointed to the Royal Skythian messenger who sat resting against the wall. “Gagik has traveled all over Skythia and Sauromatia. He will be your guide.”

  As the first red-gold sliver of sun crested over the wide horizon, eight men, sixteen horses and a herding dog were ready to head out.

  One of the five men in the escort was Hahq’s blood brother Voron (Raven). The others were all young proven warriors that Hahq had grown up and raided with. They had all taken their places of honor at the Council of Warriors. Except for Sava, who was craven.

  A crowd of family and well-wishers surrounded them, including beautiful Bari, daughter of Skopasis’ blood brother, Boreas. Bari smiled at Sava, but he noticed she also made side-eyes at Hahq.

  Bari thinks I don’t see? Deep down she wants Hahq. He could even be voivode someday.

  Though Sava and Bari’s parents had long planned that the two would marry. Intermarriage was common among the offspring of blood brothers.

  But custom is not law. Sava reminded himself.

  “Mata Drakaina watch over you my son. My blessings are with you. Always.” Sava’s mother embraced him, blue eyes glassy with emotion. “When you return it will be time for you to take a wife.” She flicked a glance toward Bari.

  “I am not ready to marry yet.” Sava shook his head. “Who knows what will happen, or even if I will return?”

  “You will come back my son. And you will be successful.” Skopasis embraced him in turn.

  Sava embraced his younger sisters Danae and Vayu and little brother Gavril.

  “Come back to us Sava,” Danae smiled. “We need you. We have so many young horses to train now.”

  “Take this gold jewelry as gifts to the rulers you meet.” King Raymaxos handed Sava a chunky saddlebag. “The gold is stamped on the back with our royal Sauromatian mark. Use it to identify yourself as an emissary.”

  “It is my honor to fulfill your commands Sire.” Sava placed a clenched fist over his heart, bowing his head slightly.

  “The gods be with you. Remember, we meet in two moons time in Royal Skythia!” Skopasis called out as the men mounted up.

  “We ride then!” Hahq waved his arm forward.

  “Go with the gods! See you in Royal Skythia!” Voices called out, hands waving.

  They rode out two abreast, the banner of the serpent goddess Mata Drakaina fluttering in the breeze. Each man had a spare horse tied to his saddle. Hahq rode his stallion Zar in the lead with their guide, Gagik.

  Sava was next on Zlatna, the spirited colt Zorik prancing at his side. The big bay colt needed the discipline of a long arduous journey. Hahq’s blood brother Voron rode next to Sava. Behind them were Feliks, Miron, Jaska and Tikhon.

  Unlike the Greeks and Romans who were still riding bareback in skirts and sandals, the Sauromatae wore fitted leggings and boots. They rode in comfortable saddles of soft thick felt that molded to the horse’s back and the rider’s seat. Though the saddles had no stirrups they had a deep seat for rider security. The saddles were secured by a girth, a breast strap and a crupper.

  Over lean torsos and muscled arms the nomads wore cuirasses, tunics of scale armor. Though not impregnable the scale armor was light and flexible for movement but strong enough to resist arrow and spear thrusts.

  The men carried short iron swords, akinake. Long daggers were strapped to their thighs. Lassos and bull whips hung from their saddles. Each warrior carried a twelve foot kontos, lance and a gorytos bristling with arrows and a double-curved bow, accurate to 1/3 of a mile.

  But it was the Sauromatian’s long-legged, powerful Nisean-bred horses that were their pride and joy. Big and fast with tremendous endurance, these horses were the Sauromatian’s biggest advantage on the Sea of Grass. The spare horses carried extra weapons and saddlebags containing light rations, dried meat and hippake - cheese made from rich mare’s milk.

  This was an important diplomatic mission and the men were dressed to impress. In addition to thick gold torques and armlets, even their weapons and horse harness glistened with gold.

  Their clothes were well made, embroidered with unique clan designs and snugly fitted over lean bodies. Over their broad shoulders hung woolen cloaks lined with fur of fox, marten,
and mink.

  Once on the way the men chatted and cracked jokes to pass the time. Feliks always with a smile on his face, called out –

  “Hey - Did you hear the joke about how the Skythian slaves finally got their freedom?”

  “Tell us.” Tikhon grinned.

  “A rich Greek merchant was on a boat trip across the Euxine Sea with his two slaves. A great storm blew up. Huge waves were breaking over the bow. The ship pitched and rolled taking on more and more water. Finally the boat started sinking. The slaves cried out, lamenting their fate. But the rich man comforted their fears. You know what he said?”

  His audience waited.

  “Don’t worry my loyal slaves for I have set you free in my will! Hah!”

  “Generous,” Sava smiled. “Tell us another.”

  “Alright. A king was visiting his vassals when he noticed a man who bore a striking resemblance to himself. He went up to the man and asked: Was your mother at one time a servant to my father? Nay King, the man said, But my father was.” Feliks grinned, a wicked glint in his eye. “Heh. There is someone who bears a strong resemblance to our voivode. He gets special treatment.”

  Pressing his lips in a thin line Sava shook his head at Feliks. He could not see Hahq’s face but his back had stiffened. Feliks’ dig was too close to home.

  Hahq refused to respond to Felik’s thinly veiled gibe but his black brows winged together. His eyes blazed. Inwardly he seethed –

  They have all guessed the truth. And now I am accused of getting `special treatment’? A lie. Like a true warrior I stole everything I have. But spoiled little prince Sava refuses to do his duty. He won’t risk his life on raids with us. Sava refuses to get his hands bloody taking heads…

  Anyone else would be ousted from the tribe or sent to the ennarei to spend his life digging for omens in the entrails of dying animals. Sava just plays music and trains his horses. So what happens? HE becomes the king’s `Royal Emissary’. And I must take orders from HIM? He who sits with the untried boys when the Cup of Brotherhood is passed around?