Liana walked into a long, poorly lit wooden hall. The floor was beaten earth, strewn with old sawdust, the beds and chairs covered in animal furs. The air was close, reeking of ale and mead and piss. Enough weapons to set up a small army adorned the walls.
Liana expected the hall to be crowded, but the only movement she could discern was the shadows scurrying under the tables and close to the walls. Her footsteps and the crackling of the distant fires in two massive fireplaces at the opposite sides of the hall echoed in the eerie silence.
If this was Perun’s legendary feasting hall, then it wasn’t worth dying for.
She walked on, unable to judge the length. The shadows played with her: The longer she walked, the further the other end seemed. She tried walking faster; it didn’t bring her any closer.
She paused, breathing heavily. “O Perun, the greatest of all gods, please allow me to speak to you,” she pleaded.
“Come closer.”
She stepped forward and the hall shrank. What she had mistakenly believed to be a heap of furs moved and revealed a huge man with a red beard, a war axe in his hand.
Liana fell to her knees and prostrated herself, spreading her arms, pressing her forehead to the floor, and waited. Fire crackled and shadows danced in the corners of her vision. Sawdust found its way into her nose and she held her breath to avoid sneezing.
“Lela’s daughter,” said the God of Sky and War, “get up. Let me see you.”
Liana obeyed, wondering if she should have dressed more alluringly for this god who was fond of beautiful women. But the very thought made her stomach turn.
“Look up.”
She banished her thoughts and lifted her eyes from the god’s brightly painted boots, over his massive torso and long red beard, to his divine eyes, black with golden stars in them. They were just like Lela’s, and yet they were completely different. Where Lela was furtive and unpredictable and cruel, Perun was cold and hard and cunning.
“I heard you have a request,” he said.
She nodded, her teeth clenched so hard she could not open her mouth.
“Out with it. Don’t waste my time.”
Liana knew fear, she’d faced it many times, but it was her insignificance, not her fear, that paralyzed her now. This hairy mountain of a god, this dark, dirty hall, this stink that men left when they were crammed together. Somewhere, this hall was full; somewhere, Amron sat on a bench, unaware that she was steps away from him. She knew it. And yet, this wasn’t like the mortal world, a curtain she could simply pull away. This was Perun’s domain, and she was nothing but a beggar to him.
So she begged.
“My husband,” she said, “Amron of the House of Amris. He was killed and you took him. I am here to beg you to give him back to me.”
“And why would I do that?”
“Because I love him,” she said, and it rang hollow and futile.
The god smirked. “Does that make you special?” He waved his hand, the fire roared, shadows melted away, and for one brief moment, Liana could glimpse at the crowded tables, overflowinghorns and cups, smiling faces, and—somewhere in the far corner—one golden head she knew so well.
She ran, but the table was empty, the hall was deserted.
Perun laughed. “He’s out of your reach.”
She turned back to him, furious and struggling not to show it. He read it on her face, nevertheless. It seemed to amuse him very much.
“Tell me,” he said, “what makes your plea worthy? Lela has praised you so much, your beauty and courage and loyalty, but all I see here is an angry slip of a girl running after a man. What can you give him that he doesn’t have here?”
“Why don’t you ask him?” she said. “Why don’t you let him choose?”
Perun laughed again. “He doesn’t remember you anymore.”
She looked down at her hands, trying to anchor herself in that place, for fear of dissolving into nothing. If Amron didn’t know who she was…
But, “I don’t care,” she said. “It doesn’t matter if he doesn’t know who I am, because I know who he is. I love him. And I can make him love me again and again and again, as many times as necessary.”
She must have said something right because the fire died down, the hall faded away, and she and the god were left standing on a bleak, windswept mountaintop.
