Mara - The Lady Grief (Completed)

46 Stone is Stone

2650 B.C.E., City of Tmari-on-the-Euphrates

Winter, Month of Shabatu, One Year and Eleven Months after Mara's Rebirth

Mara

"What is your name?" I ask the Recondite 'guarding' me and the children.

He glances at me, his jaw hard, eyes cold. "Asan," he tells me reluctantly.

"How long have you been a Recondite?" I ask him. I'm not really interested, but this inane conversation keeps me from becoming hysterical.

"Since Thelios brought me here from the flood," he snarls at bit, eyes flashing dangerously when he mentions my Fated.

I nod absently. "The flood from the hailstorm?"

"Yes," Asan snaps.

Momo shows him his bum. Waggling it in front of the oblivious warrior, he makes faces that look like he's constipated.

I don't giggle, which is what Momo wants. I'm too worn out to find it funny.

Momo's shoulders sag, so he pees on the Recondite's boots and walks away, looking happier.

I stroke the dark hair away from Thane's son's forehead. The child is finally asleep after screaming and attacking nearly everyone who came near him. I'm happy that Poppy doesn't throw tantrums like that. Grey rocked him to sleep, only because his skin of stone prove impenetrable to the little male's sharp teeth.

"Why did you kill them?" Asan asks me suddenly.

I look at him, measuring his attitude toward me. He's hostile. Everyone is angry with me. I have taken away the greatest of their warriors, the greatest of any warriors, in the middle of a war.

We are locked tight behind the walls of War again. The First Army is threatening us from outside the walls, attacking almost constantly. This is siege warfare at its worst. The city is in shambles. Chaos and anarchy reign in this quarter.

Lier sent me to the mausoleum and locked me inside. All of the Basru are fighting. There is no time to rest. No time to sleep. No time to listen to the goddess of grief.

I sigh. Some goddess I am. Something needs to be done. My blood may be the key to destroying the undead, the spawn of the Forgotten, but to have enough to attack them all would drain me dry. And, of course, there are soldiers who aren't undead. Tasuri warriors who are well-trained and well-fed on the other side of the walls.

The catalyst of this war may be Love and her jealousy and the fight with my father over Fated bonds, but in the here and now the cause of the conflict matters little.

Rest

"I can't rest, father," I say out loud, ignoring the look from Asan and the gargoyles that are sniffing the urine on his boots.

Oh?

"I have to think of a plan," I murmur.

Come home

"I can't leave the city."

Order the Basru to bring you home

"All those shifters."

They will live or die

His nonchalance is killing me, pun not intended.

"Are my males alright?" I ask him. It is the fourth time I've asked since I awoke in the mausoleum.

Yes daughter

"What are they doing?" I've been afraid to ask that.

Discussing things