Undutu approached from midship. Sunlight glinted on his peaked silver helm, its white ostrich feather dancing in the wind. The King’s dark, muscular arms were bare except for the golden cobra torques wound about his biceps. A vest of pearly scale mail covered his broad chest and midriff. His cloak was whiter than the ship’s sail, and the golden insignia of the Feathered Serpent was stitched upon it.
“What do you see, Khama?” asked the young lion. His right hand lingered on the golden pommel of the cutlass at his belt.
“I see blood,” Khama said. “The Golden Sea stained to crimson. The Jade Isles flaming and littered with corpses. Drowning men and crying mothers.”
Undutu frowned. “I thought you were behind me in this war.”
“I am,” said Khama. “What I see is the truth of war, the reality to which heroes, soldiers, and even Kings, are often blind until it is too late.”
“Ah,” said Undutu. “So it is the future you see. Like Iardu’s golden cloud. Tell me you see a victory for us.”
The wind tore at the feathers in Khama’s headdress. He turned to face the King. In the bright eyes, broad cheeks, and handsome smile he saw the face of Kuchka flash for a moment.
“I cannot do this,” said Khama. “Yet I can tell you that there are many futures, as there are many roads a man may travel to reach his destination. He may find each of these several roads, but ultimately he must choose only one.”
“And how does a man know he has chosen the right path?”
Khama shrugged. “He discovers this when he reaches his destination.”
Undutu laughed at the wind. “I ask for sorcery and you give me philosophy.”
“I will give you more than that, Majesty,” said Khama. “I will give you hurricanes to cast at these sky-ships. I will give you knowledge and power and wisdom. I will give you the Feathered Serpent in all his glorious fury.”
Undutu clapped him on the back. “I know you will, my friend. Look at this armada. The warships of three nations joined together. Soon to be four! There has never been anything like this assembly in all of history.”
Now it was Khama’s turn to frown. “Not in your history, Majesty. Yet there are many lands ancient and powerful that lie beyond your own. The Land of the Five Cities is a tiny thing compared to the Living Empire of Zyung, whose history goes back ten thousand years.”
Undutu leaned against the railing. The ship’s figurehead, a great swan head with a curved neck, loomed above him. “Tell me of this history,” said the King. “Tsoti tells me it is wise to know one’s enemy.”
Khama smiled. “Nearly three thousand years ago, long before I had taken the shape of a Man, I guided Ywatha the First across the Cryptic Sea to the wild land he would name Mumbaza.”
“My venerable ancestor,” smiled Undutu. “Every boy knows this story.”
“Yet have you ever wondered where the First Son of the Feathered Serpent and his people came from?”
Undutu’s brow knotted. “The Ancient Land… a place of curses and monsters.”
Khama smirked. “So grandmothers tell their children. Yet the truth is this: A great continent lies beyond the Cryptic Sea, and also beyond the Golden Sea, for as you’ve learned our world is a sphere. Like a golden ring, it doubles back upon itself until the beginning is the end and the end is the beginning. This great continent is many times the size of our own. Entire seas are found within its borders. This is the land where Zyung built his empire, and now it bears his name.
“Ages ago the God-King began the campaign of conquest that would build this empire. He knew it would take thousands of years to subdue all the realms of the great continent, but being an immortal, this did not concern him. He gathered together those of the Old Breed who would take up his cause and began to topple the capitals of minor kingdoms. With each kingdom that fell to him, he gathered more power, more legions, and more fuel to feed the fires of his great dream.”
“What was this dream?” asked Undutu.
“The same as it is now,” said Khama. “To remake the world in his image. To remove free will and conflict and individual thought and replace it with his vision of perfect unity. To rid this world of all those who would oppose him and create an empire of slaves living as one beneath his tread. There would be only one King and one God for the world. Zyung would be both. In the name of peace and order he slaughtered millions. His empire grew slowly, but it crept like a disease across the great continent.
“Your own ancestors, the People of Ywatha, lived free and wild on a great plain called Orbusa. A land of wild oxen and crystal streams, silver grasses and fertile soil. They built no cities, erected no walls, kept no armies, for they had no enemies. Until the legions of Zyung came and razed the villages, cast down their wooden idols, and enslaved the proud tribes of Orbusa. I had lived among these tribes for generations. They had built a temple for me from the holy wood of the sacred ahbroa trees. They worshipped the Feathered Serpent as their deity, though the wisest among them knew that I was not truly a God. Yet I was their protector.