The Godling Chronicles: A Trial of Souls (Book 4)

by Anderson, Brian D.

  “Listen to me,” shouted Lee. Everyone went silent. “If you run you will most surely die. Our only hope is to fight them off until they withdraw. When they regroup, we’ll take the horses and break out. The path will only allow about ten men through at a time, so their advantage will be much lessened. We can do this if we stay together.”

  The men shifted, muttering curses. But they could see the sense in his words, and none chose to run. Lee positioned himself between Dina and Jacob. Bevaris insisted on being near Millet, while Tristan was at the opposite end keeping the men in formation.

  Millet had ordered the fence surrounding the estate raised and doubled two weeks earlier, making it difficult, though not impossible, to climb or break down. The main gate would only allow room enough for ten men to pass at once, but it was not designed to hold off any type off determined assault. The enemy would be able to break it down as if it were made from clay.

  Dozens of torches could be seen approaching from out of the darkness. Moments later the sound of countless heavy boots striking earth thudded in their ears. Then, one by one, the torches went out. The air suddenly went still, with only the shallow frightened breaths of the sell-swords breaking the silence.

  The piercing blast of a horn rang out, followed by the roar of battle cries.

  “Here they come,” muttered Bevaris, a wicked grin on his weathered face. His sword, gripped in both hands, was nearly as long as he was tall.

  The gate flew open as the first wave of soldiers battered it down with a felled tree. Ten men clad in heavy plate, the sigil of Angrääl across their breast, dropped the ram and scrambled through. Behind them, row upon row of others awaited their turn to enter the fray.

  Lee led the charge to meet the attack head on. As the two forces met, the air filled with the sound of steel blades violently clashing. The enemy was driven back almost at once. Lee cut down three men in quick succession. Bevaris placed his massive shoulder in front of Millet, pushing him back out of harm’s way. His mighty sword swept down, nearly cleaving a soldier in twain and forcing Bevaris to kick the body away from his blade. Jacob tried to maneuver himself in front of Dina, but she deftly slipped by him and gutted an attacker.

  On the other end, Tristan, Barty, Randson and the sell-swords were faring just as well. They had already killed four men, with only a few minor cuts between them suffered in return. Millet’s hopes lifted at the sight, but these hopes were short lived.

  As quickly as they fell, the fallen soldiers were being replaced, each new attack becoming more ferocious than the last. It wasn’t long before Lee and the others found themselves being driven back toward the house. Very soon now the attackers would be able to spread out and flank them. Two sell-swords had fallen and Tristan was bleeding from a deep gash on his left forearm. Dina was surprisingly capable with a blade, her light attire allowing her to easily avoid the clumsy thrusts of the Angrääl soldiers.

  When another sell-sword fell, the left side gave way and Tristan was forced to withdraw. Soldiers began to pour through the gate, attempting to surround them.

  “Fall back to the manor!” shouted Lee.

  Just then another blast from the enemy horn sounded. In response to this, amazingly, the soldiers began to retreat. Within moments they had all passed back through the gate and disappeared completely into the darkness. Millet and the others stood where they were for a full minute, utterly confused and unable to speak.

  “Why did they stop?’ asked Jacob, breaking the stupor.

  “I don’t intend to find out,” said Millet. “Let’s fetch the horses and get out of here.” He turned to the sell-swords. “You men should ride with us. Once we’re far enough from here you can either come along or go your own way.”

  They dragged the bodies of their fallen comrades away from the main path and retrieved the horses. No sooner had they mounted than Lee’s back stiffened. He drew his sword.

  “Someone approaches,” he said. “Whoever it is, they’re alone.”

  “Perhaps they want to negotiate a surrender,” offered one of the men.

  “Then they’re bigger fools than I thought,” said Lee. “The moment he enters, kill him and follow me.”

  A minute later a lone hooded figure walked cautiously through the broken gates. Lee was just about to sound the charge when the figure threw back his hood.

  It was Linis.

  Lee, Dina and Millet immediately leaped from their horses. Linis smiled warmly. “I see I have arrived a little late.”

  They all took turns in embracing the elf, Dina lingering longer than the rest.

  “You’re just in time my friend,” said Lee, not hiding his relief. “How many men did you bring?”

  “I had fifty,” Linis replied. “But I lost nearly half of them driving away your foes. Mostly they fell to the Vrykol.” He glanced over his shoulder. “The men are about a quarter mile back. We surprised the enemy and were able to cause enough confusion to break their ranks, but I think it is certain they will regroup and return.”

  “We’re ready to ride now, if you are,” said Millet.

  “Good,” said Linis. He gave Dina a quick smile. “Then let us be gone.”

  Linis led them down one of the many paths leading away from the manor. Millet could hear whispers from the sell-swords about Linis. Clearly they had never seen an elf before.

  “Are your men mounted?” asked Lee.

  “Yes,” replied Linis. “I do not enjoy travel by horse, but it was the only way to move so many men quickly. I have little in the way of supplies, but Lord Ganflin and Lord Broin sent gold.”

  Millet nodded. “That is good. We will need it.” He had packed as much gold as could be carried himself.

  As Linis had said, the men awaited them a quarter mile away. Most wore either light leather armor or thin chainmail with the sigil of a sword and moon.

  “They have fled west to the river, my lord,” said one of the men. “Along with the one remaining Vrykol.” The word Vrykol came out like a curse.

  Linis turned to Millet. “You know these parts better than I.”

  “We should go southeast, through the forest,” interjected Randson. “It’s slower, but it avoids town and will put us well beyond the Stedding farm.”

  “Lead on,” commanded Millet.

  Randson spurred his horse forward, guiding them into the outlaying forest and down a narrow hunting trail. Lee fell back to the rear to listen for signs of pursuit, while Linis stayed at the front. By dawn they were well away and clearly the Angrääl soldiers had no desire to catch them. They stopped in a clearing to rest their horses. Millet removed a pack from his mount and pulled Randson and Barty aside.

  “I need you to go to Baltria,” he told them.

  “If you think to keep us from harm,” objected Barty.

  “I intend to put you in harm’s way,” interrupted Millet. “I need eyes and ears there. Someone I can trust and who no one knows. You cannot return to Sharpstone. If you do, it will be quickly discovered that you fought with us.” He handed Barty the pack. “Here is enough gold to bribe whomever you must, and to keep you fed and housed once you arrive. Find Jansi. He serves Lord Lanson Brimm. There is a letter in the pack that will prove to him you are a friend. He may be able to aid you.”

  “How shall we contact you?” asked Barty.

  “Do not try,” said Millet. “When the time comes, I will contact you. Until then, learn what you can. If you are found out, make your way to Althetas and go to King Lousis. He will take care of you.”

  After saying a brief farewell to the others, Barty and Randson rode off south through the dense forest.

  “You are becoming ruthless, my old friend,” said Lee. “Far more so than I. I don’t think I could send them into such peril.”

  “Perhaps,” said Millet. “But I need them there.” He took a deep breath. “I do not like who I have become, Lee. But I think that fate has chosen this path for me for a reason, though it may be at the cost of my soul.”

&nbs
p; “Where are we going?” asked Linis, smiling as he approached.

  “To Dantory,” replied Millet. His tone was firm and commanding. “We have received word that the elves from the deep desert mass for war. We will join them, gathering what support we can along the way.”

  Linis raised an eyebrow. “Then let us meet these desert elves. We can tell our tales as we travel.”

  Chapter 6

  The journey back to Valshara had been difficult for Gewey to endure. Fighters, both elf and human, came to him in a ceaseless stream to thank him for their resounding victory. King Lousis did his best to keep his men away, but his mind was on other matters. Most of the prisoners were from Skalhalis. The generals from Angrääl had refused to allow their men to lay down their arms, and only after King Halmara was slain did his commanders kill the Angrääl leaders and order the surrender. Lousis had decided to force the prisoners to construct their own prison. When that was completed, he would release those from Skalhalis and allow them to return to their families.

  One thing deeply troubling Gewey was the disappearance of Yanti’s body. He had personally searched the battlefield for more than an hour and found no trace of him. The thought that the man could still live caused his anger to resurface. He had later considered looking for the men from Sharpstone, but dismissed the idea. If any survived, they would be safer in prison.

  Word of their victory had already reached Valshara, ensuring that the entire temple was outside to greet them when they arrived. Gewey, Lousis, Kaylia and Ertik rode abreast into the yard as cries of “Long live Darshan” echoed from the walls. Both men and women openly wept at the sight of him as he passed. Gewey did his best to be gracious and smile.

  High Lady Selena stood at the door in her ceremonial robes. Her face was a mixture of relief and sadness. “We thank the gods for your victory. Tonight there shall be a celebration banquet to honor you all.”

  They dismounted and bowed in unison.

  “It was hard fought,” said Lousis. “But the true honor goes to Gewey.”

  “So I have heard,” said Selena. “Songs are already being sung throughout the temple about his deeds.”

  “I’m sure they are exaggerated,” said Gewey.

  “Perhaps,” Selena countered. “But you give people inspiration and hope. You may very well have to accept the myth that is surrounding your name.”

  Her words struck a chord with Gewey. Suddenly, he was filled with a sense of urgency.

  “What is it?” asked Kaylia, sensing his feelings.

  “I need to have the Book of Souls brought to my chambers as soon as possible, high lady,” said Gewey.

  Ertik stepped forward. “I will see to it.”

  Selena turned and opened the door. “Water and food are already being brought to your rooms.” She glanced over her shoulder. “Kaylia, I would speak to you as soon as you are able.”

  Gewey moved to take a step forward. As he did so, pain shot through his stomach where Yanti’s blade had struck. Aaliyah and Nehrutu, who had been riding only a few yards behind him, were at his side at once.

  “You have delayed healing long enough,” said Aaliyah sternly. Still weak from healing the wounded on the battlefield, her face was pale and her eyes tired.

  “I am in no danger,” said Gewey.

  “Perhaps not,” she said. “But I can feel your agony through our bond. For Kaylia it must be far worse. Would you allow your stubbornness to cause her pain?”

  Gewey closed his eyes and nodded his consent. “Very well. Allow me an hour to wash and change, then come to my chambers.”

  Kaylia walked him through the halls to their room. Stares of awe were evident on the faces of all they encountered. A tub of steaming hot water and a meal of bread and veal awaited them. Gewey and Kaylia washed, changed into soft cotton robes, and took their meal. They were sipping on a cup of wine when Aaliyah arrived with Nehrutu. Gewey allowed them to lay him on the bed and complete the healing. His spirits lifted immediately.

  “Thank you,” he said. “I’m sorry for being so bullheaded. I was just concerned for you both.”

  “No need to apologize,” said Aaliyah. “But you must learn to accept the help of those who love you. You cannot protect everyone. There are times when it is you who needs protection.”

  Gewey smiled warmly. “You’re right, of course. But right now it looks like it’s you two who need to care for yourselves.”

  Nehrutu laughed. “I believe you are right.” He touched Aaliyah’s shoulder. “Let us go.”

  Soon after they’d left, Ertik arrived with the Book of Souls. Gewey sat on the edge of the bed and ran his fingers over the box.

  “Do you think you will find the answers you seek there?” asked Kaylia.

  “According to Felsafell - no,” he replied. “Though I believe it may show me where to begin.”

  Kaylia took the box and placed it inside the wardrobe. “Then you will begin tomorrow. We should rest before the banquet.”

  Getting into bed, she pulled Gewey down beside her. As she kissed him, mutual passion exploded through their bond.

  “But perhaps rest can wait for a while,” she murmured.

  ***

  Ertik returned at sunset to inform them that the banquet would be beginning soon. Selena had ordered the courtyard cleared and made ready; even the receiving hall could not accommodate all the many people eager to celebrate their victory.

  Gewey wanted to wear simple elf attire, but Kaylia wouldn’t hear of it, instead dressing him in a snow-white silk shirt with a raised collar and silver buttons. His matching pants fit almost too snuggly, accentuating his muscular form. Completing the ensemble was a formal black jacket with silver embroidery along its broad collar, together with boots and belt polished to a mirror shine. He decided to leave his sword behind and wear a plain dagger that contrasted with the elegance of his attire, giving him an approachable and less arrogant quality.

  Kaylia wore an emerald green satin dress that hugged her curves and flowed with her graceful movements. Two maidens came and adorned her hair with delicate white flowers. Gewey was amazed at how easily she could transform from a beautiful warrior into a breathtaking goddess. Human women would take hours painting their faces and dressing themselves in extravagant gowns, and still only become a shadow of the loveliness he saw before him.

  Just before they left the room he took hold of Kaylia’s hands and looked at her with heartfelt approval. “I feel like a peasant next to you.”

  Kaylia leaned in and kissed him lightly on the cheek, smiling impishly. “That is good. Let us hope that feeling lasts forever.”

  When drawing near to the temple entrance they saw two guards in gleaming plate mail, each holding a banner bearing Gewey’s crest. They snapped to attention and pushed open the door the moment they saw the couple approaching.

  The sound of music and laughter poured in. As they stepped over the threshold into the open air they could see hundreds of finely dressed humans and elves talking and drinking. The sheer myriad of colors from all the widely differing outfits was stunning. Enhancing this, warm torchlight filled the yard with a pleasant glow.

  Selena had arranged for dozens of long tables to be set in neat rows on either side of the courtyard near to the curtain walls; a raised platform had also been erected close to the main gateway. Flowers festooned the statue of the sword, which was surrounded by six brass braziers. Four musicians – in actual fact, three temple priests and a soldier - were playing merrily while people danced and sang along to their music.

  The blare of a trumpet heralded the new arrivals. Within moments the banquet drew quiet as all eyes fell on Gewey. Then a single voice cried out: “Darshan”. This was immediately followed by another. Then another - and another - until the entire yard was roaring out his name.

  Gewey could feel the wave of emotion washing over him from the crowd. The faint sound of a child’s laughter and hundreds of tiny bells drifted down, filling his mind. As when the anger and rage had flowed
through him, he felt immensely powerful. Yet this time it was not the unbridled torrent of before, but a steady, controllable surge. The flow of the spirit illuminated the entire yard. It was as if he could see through every soul there. The temptation to reach out and touch them was almost irresistible. Gewey raised his fist high. The crowd erupted afresh.

  Kaylia leaned over to whisper into his ear. “You have given them hope.”

  Her words brought him back, allowing the flow to subside. He took Kaylia’s hand and they walked into the crowd. People beamed, making way for them as they passed. A few moments later, Nehrutu and Aaliyah approached.

  Aaliyah was wearing a flowing red silk dress with deep crimson beads sewn in undulating patterns along each side that wrapped themselves around her delicate waist. Her black hair was tied back in a thick braid, interwoven with a red satin cloth.

  Nehrutu wore a white, loose-fitting, open-collared shirt, trousers and black suede boots. A gold belt studded with emeralds held his short sword, and was wrapped atop a black sash.

  They bowed low and smiled warmly. Gewey and Kaylia returned the gesture.

  “It is good to see joy after such hardships, is it not?” said Aaliyah.

  Gewey nodded. “I wish it could last.”

  “A fleeting joy is a joy nonetheless,” said Nehrutu.

  “Come,” said Aaliyah. “High Lady Selena wishes you to join her.”

  They made their way through the crowd to the platform where Selena, Lord Chiron, and Lady Bellisia stood talking quietly.

  “The hero of Valshara has arrived,” said Chiron. “Along with his lovely unorem.”

  Gewey gave an embarrassed laugh.

  Selena leaned in and kissed Kaylia on her cheek, then looked at her approvingly. “You are a jewel on the crown, my dear.”

  Selena was dressed in her ceremonial robes, with her hair falling loosely down her back.

  Kaylia smiled graciously. “I thank you.”

  Both Chiron and Bellisia were wearing the white robes of the elf elders; the same ones Gewey had seen when he first met them at the home of Theopolou.