The river-god turned over in his sleep. He\u2019d worked hard for countless millions of years, guiding his river down to the sea, and he needed rest. Voices came and went, but this was more insistent and beat on the gates of his slumber.<\/p>\n
\u201cAwake, O great god.” The voice slipped into a dream that wasn\u2019t quite a dream. \u201cYour people call on you in their need.\u201d<\/p>\n
His bed was less comfortable than usual: hard, jagged stones, instead of gentle water to rock him. The dream from within slowly merged with the world outside, and the voice was saying, \u201cYou shall have whatever offering you wish, great god. We beg you to awake.\u201d<\/p>\n
The river-god sat up, rubbing his eyes, and looked about. So that was why his bed felt so uncomfortable. The course down which his water should pour was empty, exposing its stony bottom.<\/p>\n
How could this be? His waters never dried up–he prided himself on it–and he didn\u2019t believe for a moment the forces of nature were responsible. Who had done this to him?<\/p>\n
A mortal stood on the bank, her arms raised. As far as he could make out, she was what mortals called old. There were lines all over her creased face, and wispy grey hair blew in the fresh breeze. She felt too wholesome to be the culprit, with the river\u2019s rhythms suffusing her soul, but who could tell with mortals?<\/p>\n
\u201cWho are you?\u201d he demanded.<\/p>\n
The woman staggered back a few steps; she looked terrified, but her eyes remained fixed on him. \u201cLord, I\u2019m Durka, your priestess. For forty years, I\u2019ve led the rituals that honour you, and I\u2019ve blessed the offerings that the tribe cast into the water.\u201d<\/p>\n
Offerings? So that was it. The mortals who lived near this part of the river had a habit of throwing objects into the water from time to time. He cared nothing for the things themselves, only for the reverence that clothed them. It had never occurred to him that the mortals were giving him gifts.<\/p>\n
\u201cLast winter,\u201d said Durka, \u201cthe tribe cast twenty-seven hunting spears into your waters as a special offering. We couldn\u2019t afford to lose them, but your waters had been falling. Are you angry with us?\u201d<\/p>\n
Why should he be angry with mortals who honoured the river? It was a strange idea, but he didn\u2019t want this priestess–whatever that was–to be upset. Her aura showed her love for the river, even more than the rest of the tribe.<\/p>\n
\u201cI wasn\u2019t angry, little mortal. I was asleep. Where has the river gone?\u201d<\/p>\n
Her face grew more distressed. \u201cWe sent scouts to find out. Another tribe, two days\u2019 journey upstream, have built a great dam across it. They harvest the waters and allow none to come down the river-course. Our land withers, and all the beasts of the forest are dying of thirst. And so are the tribe. We beg for your help, great god.\u201d<\/p>\n
His fury swelled as she spoke. Who were these people who had dared to steal his river? When she finished, he let out a great roar. The priestess screamed and staggered back, falling over.<\/p>\n
Immediately, the river-god was sorry. This mortal, Durka, wasn\u2019t to blame–indeed, she had done him a service by wakening him. Reaching out, he picked her up in one hand, setting her on her feet, and stroked her hair with a fingertip.<\/p>\n
\u201cDon\u2019t be afraid. Only the thieves need to fear me. I shall search for the river.\u201d<\/p>\n
He closed his eyes, sending his thoughts upstream until he found the captive waters, penned against a vast wall. He examined the barrier, afraid it might be part of the earth and would need thousands of years to wear down, but it was a feeble thing of sand, mud and gravel bound together with water that was now gone. <\/p>\n
Very well: if water had made it, water could unmake it. The river-god reached out to the imprisoned, urging it to attack the weaknesses he\u2019d found, but it didn\u2019t seem to hear.<\/p>\n
Returning his mind to the place where he\u2019d slept, the river-god looked around and understood. \u201cThe river\u2019s imprisoned,\u201d he told Durka, frustration seething like rapids, \u201cbut I can\u2019t reach it with no water in between. The connection is broken.\u201d<\/p>\n
She frowned, fear and concern on her face. \u201cWhat would you do,\u201d she asked after a moment, \u201cif you could reach?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019d tell it where to attack the dam. But it can\u2019t hear me. Someone will need to take a message, but I shall have to fill them with my power, so that they can speak to the water. That would be deadly for a mortal.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019ll do it,\u201d said Durka. \u201cI\u2019ve had a good life, and if I must die to save the river and the tribe, so be it.\u201d<\/p>\n
The river-god hesitated. He didn\u2019t want to put such a reverent mortal in danger, but what other choice was there? Leaning forward, he breathed a little of himself into her soul and found himself seeing through her eyes. The vast figure in front of her looked old, too.<\/p>\n
It took Durka two days to reach the dam, and the river-god was with her all the way. He sustained her, so that she didn\u2019t tire, or hunger, or thirst, but her body was crumbling against the force of divinity it contained. Would she survive long enough to speak to the water?<\/p>\n
When she came in sight of the place, the river-god felt fury sweeping up again at the sight of the soulless prison, but he contained the anger. It could damage Durka. There was a long climb down the bank to reach the water, and he felt pain racking her at every step and slide, but she pushed herself forward, stumbling and falling in places. Each time, she climbed to her feet, and she reached the waterside at last. Kneeling with her hands immersed, she spoke to the river, telling them with the god\u2019s voice how it could get free.<\/p>\n
Directed to the weaknesses he\u2019d identified in the structure, the imprisoned water attacked again and again. Cracks formed, and it flowed inside, gnawing away at the monstrosity until the cracks went all the way through.<\/p>\n
Mortals in strange clothes were running and slithering down the bank towards Durka, shouting something about \u201cdamned natives\u201d. One raised a stick, and lighting flared from it, followed a moment later by the report of the thunder. The river-god felt agony sear through Durka.<\/p>\n
The old woman reared up with her last strength and dived into the water. Letting it bear her up, she urged the river against its enemy again and again.<\/p>\n
With a roar like a slow avalanche, the dam collapsed before the assault of the water it held captive. Running and plunging in the ecstasy of its freedom, the river careered down its course faster than the plunge of a waterfall, and the god met it, rushing upstream to where Durka was carried on its crest.<\/p>\n
Durka\u2019s life-force was weak, from the wound and the water inside her, as well as from carrying the god\u2019s power, but she smiled faintly as he caught her up in his arms. Holding her tightly, the river-god swam down to his sleeping-place and laid her carefully on the bank. <\/p>\n
\u201cYou\u2019ve done me a great service,\u201d he said, \u201cand I shall guard and protect your people for as long as they live here, even if it takes twenty ice-ages.\u201d<\/p>\n
Durka smiled again, and her soul slipped out of her body. He caught it before it drifted away and set it gently in the river, which greeted the soul joyously. Durka\u2019s soul, no longer old and weak, played with the water she\u2019d rescued, as she\u2019d play for as long as it ran.<\/p>\n
The river-god settled down, to guard and guide the water that was his charge. He didn\u2019t sleep.<\/p>\n
Nyki Blatchley is a British author and poet who graduated from Keele University in English and Greek and now lives just outside London. He has had about forty stories published, mostly fantasy or horror, in various magazines, webzines and anthologies, including Penumbra, Lore, Wily Writers and The Thirteenth Fontana Book of Great Horror Stories. His novel At An Uncertain Hour was published by StoneGarden in April 2009, and he\u2019s had novellas out from Musa Publishing and Darwin\u2019s Evolutions. He\u2019s currently working on a fantasy trilogy called The Winter Legend. <\/p><\/blockquote>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
The river-god turned over in his sleep. He\u2019d worked hard for countless millions of years, guiding his river down to the sea, and he needed rest. Voices came and went, but this was more insistent and beat on the gates of his slumber. \u201cAwake, O great god.” The voice slipped into a dream that wasn\u2019t …<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2465,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[3],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-5950","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-fiction","entry entry-center"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/5950","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/2465"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=5950"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/5950\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":139645,"href":"https:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/5950\/revisions\/139645"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=5950"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=5950"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=5950"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}