Epilogue
The Great Return
AN 1221 (AZ 1458) - Midsummer
Kalonis, Notos
To think that four and a half years prior, Garm and his warriors were driven back from their advance on Kalonis amid fire, chaos and death. Five and thirty winters since the broken survivors of the war on Zephyr were loaded onto ships, packed shoulder to shoulder and heat to foot, and taken across the sea. The days of humiliation and defeat were over. The day had finally come for them to take back what was theirs.
Less than half their numbers from before the war survived. It would take many generations to recover. Dwerkhar were not like the humans who bred like rabbits and could swarm over the face of the earth like locusts. Dwerkhar were hardy as stone, but also about as fecund. So it was. There was no quarreling with Nature, at least none that any mortal could hope to win.
Because Dwerkhar life was so precious, Garm had always held back his true strength for this very day. If they were to make a great gambit of all or nothing, let it be for their one heart's desire, their home.
They marched from Arkh Sharshun over nine thousand strong. About sixteen hundred were trained warriors and thrice as many more could fight if they had to. If it was not enough, they would still make a great and bloody show in the trying.
"This is a day long in the comin', milord," Burkur said. "I was little more'n a lad when we were taken. I hear the land's much changed."
"Lands don't change so much," Garm said.
"Don't they, milord? Just look at this land an' what's become of it. 'Cross the sea, the humans turned 'gainst their halfbreed Queen an' drove 'er out. Now those madmen in white rule."
Garm shook his head.
"They're all mad, the humans. So long as they leave us be, they can be ruled by man or ass or anything in between."
Burkur laughed. "Most o' them seem more ass than man, don't they, milord?"
"Aye, they do," Garm said, "but what's it matter to us?"
As the column reached the docks, they were met by the very men in white Burkur was talking about.
Approaching the men, Garm hailed them, saying, "Well, what is it ye humans say? Speak o' the Devil?"
The leader among them, distinguished by the golden embroidery on his robes and large golden emblem on his chest, gave Garm a disapproving look.
"Heathen though you may be, Lord of the Nanoi, you ought not blaspheme so."
Few of the Dwerkhar still clung to their gods after their defeat at the hands of the Zephyrians. Garm could show the man in white and gold what real blasphemy looked like, but it seemed ill-advised to provoke him without reason.
"What've ye come here fer?" he asked.
"News has reached the Golden Basilica that your people mean to return to Zephyr."
"News travels fast," Garm sniffed.
"The Church has eyes and ears everywhere."
Even here in Notos, the sun-worshippers' reach was long indeed. Garm was little concerned unless they meant to stand in his way.
"Are ye here to dispute us?" he asked.
"Quite the contrary," the man in gold and white replied. "In accordance with the covenant forged between us, His Holiness the Archbishop is prepared to grant you safe passage to your homelands in the mountains, provided you meet a few conditions."
This was why Garm hated dealing with humans. Pacts with them were always littered with traps like the way to some miser's treasure hoard. Tempting as it was to just split the man's skull with his axe, Garm decided to let him talk a while longer yet.
"An' what'd those conditions be?"
If the man in gold and white noticed Garm's wariness, he made no sign of it.
"Upon reaching your port of entry, you are to exit the city as quickly as possible. Do not tarry amongst us. You must pledge that not one among you will pillage or plunder along the way. You may not enter any human town or city for rest or for trade."
His conditions sounded more like dictates. It rubbed against Garm's pride, but he had to remind himself that he needed to deal craftily with the humans for the sake of his people.
"An' what d'ye intend we do fer provisions?" he asked.
"You may live off the land," the man in white and gold replied. "From the fruit of lands uncultivated by human hands may you eat and from the free-flowing rivers, brooks and streams may you drink. You will not lay a hand on the tilled fields or the vineyards, or the pastures with their cattle, nor draw from any dug well or cistern."
"Don't want us to dirty yer lands, do ye?"
The man in gold and white did not rise to the bait to condemn himself by further insult. Instead, he continued, "Abide by these terms and you may return to your homes unmolested. The penalty for any who break this pledge, man or Nanos, is death."
The sun-worshippers had strength enough to overthrow their Queen. Until Garm knew more about their true strength, it was unwise to challenge them for pride's sake. To save face, though, he had to make a display that his compliance could not be construed as submission.
"Ye humans 'ave nothin' we want," he said. "See that we've passage from Hesperia to Nulos an' our time in yer lands'll be even shorter."
"We shall make it so," the man in gold and white replied.
"Then we've an accord."
The man made a sign with his hand, saying, "God's mercy be on you, Lord of the Nanoi."
With that, the men in white withdrew. When they were gone, Burkur asked him, "Milord, is it wise to put our lives in their hands?"
"We do nothin' o' the sort," Garm insisted, "Our lives're our own. Their pact benefits us, so what's the harm in tellin' 'em what they want to hear?"
"What if they should turn on us?"
"That's why we've axe, sword an' spear," Garm replied, holding up his own axe. "If the humans seek peace, let 'em 'ave peace. But if they want war, we'll give 'em war."
Garm turned to face the column, raised his axe aloft and shouted, "Come, brothers! We take to the sea! Our homes'll be ours once more!"
"VINUN! DELTUN!" they shouted in reply. "VINUN! DELTUN!"
The humans would do well to remember this day. This day they were returning home and never again would they leave. The humiliation of the old war would not be repeated. They would vanquish any who challenged them or they would die to the last. There would be no other way. This was Garm's vow to the gods who had forsaken him. So long as there was breath in him, he would see that vow fulfilled.