Gods of Garran

The Gods of Garran: Chapter 37

A novel by Meredith Skye

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Morrhan cursed his stupidity. He'd taken the Chanden leader, Koethe, prisoner after their airship had crashed. Morrhan had handcuffed Koethe, but didn't realize that he could unlock the cuffs and get free.

Now Koethe held Morrhan prisoner once again. Asta, still god-touched, had gone along with her father, leaving the Sea of Glass.

Once Koethe had led his daughter and Morrhan back to the surface, Koethe radioed the Chanden for help. Again Morrhan cursed himself for not thinking to search the man for the small pocket radios that they carried.

They waited in silence until an airship picked them up a half an hour later.

From the airship window, Morrhan saw the warriors of the clan people assembled in groups in the desert. They carried spears, swords, ooluks, and yothar slings, all clad in the colors of their clans: red and yellow, crimson and orange, blue and white, cream and brown.

Then after miles more passed below, he saw the armies of the Chanden, in their silver and black. They had alien armor that was nearly impenetrable along with their distance weapons that made even the poorest warrior into an effective marksman. Plus they had their airships and bombs. He'd heard the stories of their conquest before and knew that they would use the same weapons, with little remorse, that they used on his Garran ancestors.

Fighting the Chanden was madness. And yet, as his father said, all of the Garrans were tired of oppression. Then again, the gods of old did not countenance war—they forbade it.

The food and water Morrhan had eaten from the pack had helped stave his hunger and thirst but only slightly. And it wasn't likely that he'd get fed soon. He put aside these petty thoughts. He worried more about the upcoming battle. The Chanden would wait for the Garrans to attack and use this excuse to wipe them out.

Morrhan regretted now that he had not killed Koethe when he had the chance. But would that have stopped it?

Finally the ship touched down at the Chanden base and the guards roughly dragged Morrhan out and brought him along behind Koethe and Asta. They did not restrain Asta—did not believe that they needed to. Morrhan was sure they had miscalculated. She was their enemy as surely as he was—unless she was capable of defying the gods to save her own people. He hoped this would not be the case.

Koethe stopped to hold a discussion with other officers who were gathered around some monitor equipment in a tent. Three of them were dressed in olive and black uniforms and they stood apart from the others, observing the proceedings. The tallest, a stout Chanden, had fierce eyes and the look of a war chief. Beside him stood another man and also a woman officer. These seemed rare among the Chanden. She was ugly, her face frozen in a perpetual scowl.

"What is our status?" asked Koethe.

"We're tracking movement of rebel troops now," said an old Chanden war chief, whom Morrhan later learned was named General Godwin. "We have them outnumbered and outgunned. They'd be fools to go through with the attack."

Koethe glanced over at Morrhan. "But I have a feeling that they will. Isn't that so?" He glanced at Morrhan, but perhaps he did not expect an answer.

Morrhan didn't bother to respond.

"You found your daughter, I see," said the General.

"Yes," said Koethe. He turned to her. "Now, Asta, tell me—what happened?"

Asta looked at them and spoke. "The gods of Garran are displeased with you and your people. You have disrupted the land with continual conflicts and your harvesting."