The Godling Chronicles (Shadow of the Gods, Book #3)

by Brian D. Anderson

  Jacob decided it best not to argue, and led Darius away.

  “I hope the fat man was worth your life,” said the first man.

  Lee widened his stance, but did not draw his blade. “I'll not dirty my steel with the likes of you.” He waved them in. “Come and get me.”

  The first man charged in like a mad bull, swinging his sword in a wild arc. The second tried to skewer him through the gut. Lee stepped aside, easily dodging both blades, and brought his fist down across the first thug’s jaw. Blood and teeth went flying as the man spun and tumbled to the ground, unmoving. Stunned the second man paused, staring at his comrade.

  “You should run,” said Lee.

  This enraged the second thug. Reaching in his belt, he drew a small dagger and hurled it at Lee's throat. Lee moved aside and the blade disappeared into the darkness. The thug brought up his sword and charged. Lee almost laughed at the clumsy effort. He side stepped and brought the back of his fist across the man's temple. He stumbled and fell to one knee, his sword falling to the ground and sliding a few feet away. Lee kicked him to the ground and brought his boot down on the man's neck.

  “If you or your friend trouble Darius again, you won't walk away,” said Lee.

  The thug's eyes were wide with fear, and he was only able to nod his head.

  Lee released him, and after taking a moment to view the crowd that had gathered from inside the tavern, made his way to the lodge. There he found Darius and Jacob sitting quietly at a table.

  Lee took a seat next to Jacob. “They won't be troubling you anymore.”

  “That coward of a guard abandoned me,” muttered Darius. “I'll see him skinned alive.” He reached in his belt and pulled out a flask. The sweet scent of brandy filled the air as he opened it.

  “He's long gone,” said Lee. “But it seems you are in need of protection. My friend and I would be happy to oblige...for the right price.”

  “Wha—?” He shook himself to his senses. “Yes, yes. Of course.” He swallowed a mouthful of brandy. “But you may not be so eager, once you hear where I'm going.”

  “And where is that?” asked Lee.

  “I go to Whiterun Pass,” said Darius. “Just on the other side of the Angrääl border. Not too many want to go there. Especially with all the soldiers gathering.” He handed Lee the flask.

  Lee took a long swallow, and passed it to Jacob. “Then why are you going?”

  “War is profitable,” said Darius flatly. “I have twenty wagons full of raw cotton, and the Reborn King pays triple what it's worth anywhere else.”

  Hearing that name sent Lee's heart pounding. “I see. Well it sounds like just the kind of job Jasper and I are looking for.” He reached across the table and held out his hand. “I'm Barath, and this is my nephew, Jasper.”

  Darius shook Lee's hand, then pulled two silver coins from his purse. He tossed Jacob and Lee each a coin then took another drink. “Then it’s good to have you with me. This is for what you did for me in the tavern. Normally, I pay eight coppers per week...” He studied Lee for a moment. “But I think you're worth nine.”

  “I'd say we're worth twelve,” said Jacob.

  Darius rubbed his chin. “Done.” He stood up. “Grab your gear. My camp is just a mile north; and a sight more comfortable than this place.”

  Lee instructed the innkeeper to gather their horses, and he and Jacob retrieved their belongings. Lee offered his horse to Darius, but the merchant refused.

  “I've had far too much to drink to stay on a horse,” said Darius. “It will do me good to walk it off.” He patted his round belly. “Besides, I may break the poor beast’s back.”

  This brought a hearty laugh. Once the horses were packed, they slowly made their way to the main avenue north, through town. Lee looked for any sign that the two thugs were about, but to his relief, they apparently decided they had enough for one night. Lee didn't want to spill blood this early in their journey. Such things draw too much attention, and even in a dilapidated camp like Klinton, there was a constable or sheriff, and he certainly didn't need to get mixed up with the local law. Not that they were in danger of finding themselves in a hangman’s noose, but explanations would have to be made and coin spent, should men die in the streets.

  The night was cold, but the brandy helped to fight off the chill. When they arrived at Darius' camp, Lee could see twenty large wagons filled to bursting with cotton, and arranged in a wide circle. In the center several small fires were burning, surrounded by sleeping men.

  Darius grumbled. “Lazy dogs. They're supposed to guard the wagons.” He straightened his shirt and belt, then stiffened his back, standing as tall as his girth would allow. “That’s why I only brought one blasted guard.”

  “How many swordsmen do you have?” asked Lee.

  “Ten, not counting the two of you,” Darius replied. “Well, nine since I lost the cur that I had with me tonight.”

  “Why so many?” asked Jacob.

  “The roads south of Angrääl are dangerous,” Darius replied. “You may see some action before we get there.”

  Lee nodded. “And after?”

  Darius chuckled. “No one raids within the borders of the Reborn King. Not unless they wish for death. I'll be glad when they finish whatever war they getting ready for. At least the roads will be safe. I gotta give them credit; they know how to keep order.”

  Lee could tell that Jacob wanted to say something, but flashed him a glance. Darius noticed.

  “And what do you think about it?” asked Darius. “I see you have an opinion.”

  “I think...” Jacob paused. Lee's face was stone. “I think as long as they let people go about their business, I don't care.”

  Lee relaxed.

  Once within the camp, Darius began kicking awake the men who had been left to guard the wagons, threatening to dock their pay. He pointed to a small tent at the far end of the camp. “I sleep there. After tonight I want you and Jasper to keep your fire and bedrolls nearby. For tonight find yourselves a place with the others. We leave at dawn.”

  Lee and Jacob found a spot in the center of the camp and laid out their bedrolls. The other men scarcely looked at them as they settled in.

  “It’s going to get even colder soon,” remarked Lee, as he stretched out.

  “I'm a northman,” said Jacob. “I don’t mind the cold.”

  Lee smiled. His son had done well that night, and he allowed himself to feel proud. He prayed to the Gods that the feeling would last.

  Chapter 9

  For the next several days, Lee and Jacob spent most of their time with Darius. Originally from The Silver Isles, a small group of islands just off the coast one-hundred miles east of Baltria, Darius had inherited a cotton plantation on the mainland, when his uncle died twenty years prior. When sober, he wasn't nearly as much of a loud braggart, and Lee found him to be a man of quick wit and good humor.

  The first day, he invited Lee and Jacob to engage in a dice game with a few of the other men. Though Lee politely refused, Jacob took great joy in the distraction, as well as taking coin from Darius, who turned out to be a very unlucky gambler. After a few more games, Darius chose to sit and talk with Lee rather than lose more coin.

  At night, after Darius went to bed, which was usually early when he had too much wine, Lee tried to get to know the others among the caravan. The hired swords were mostly from the edge of the eastern desert. They were regarded as a fierce people of few words and quick temper. Fortunately for Lee, he had spent time in Dantory, and knew how to approach them. Three of the guards intended to join the armies of Angrääl when they arrived.

  “Better to be on the winning side,” said Fennio, a short, thin guard, one night over a few cups of wine. He was by far the most experienced of the lot, and bore the scars to prove it. Unlike the long swords the others carried he preferred a short sword and small mace. “And I hear they pay thirty coppers a week.”

  “I'm not servin' in no army,” said Santino, one of the youngest
of the group, though he had the look of a hardened veteran. “I don't care if they're payin' fifty coppers. If you ask me, they're payin' so good, because you're marchin' off to get killed.”

  “Ha!” scoffed Fennio. “You ain't seen how big the army is. A hundred-thousand if it's ten.”

  “You ain't seen it neither,” said Santino. “So shut up.”

  Fennio took a swallow of wine and wiped his mouth on his sleeve. “Yeah, but I heard. They say that before long Angrääl is gonna march. You don't wanna be in their way when they do.”

  He looked over to Lee, who was feigning disinterest. “What about you? You have the look of a soldier about you. You gonna join up?”

  Lee shook head and forced a smile. “If war comes, me and Jasper are going to head east.”

  Fennio snorted. “East? You won't find nothin' there but sand and ugly women. Why you think we left in the first place?” The rest of the group burst out in harsh laughter.

  “At least Angrääl isn't likely to go there,” said Lee.

  “You're right about that,” agreed Fennio. They'll be busy with the elves, unless I miss my guess.”

  Lee cocked his head. “The elves?”

  “Yeah,” said Fennio. “I hear this Reborn King fella's gonna get rid of 'em once and for all.” He shrugged. “Good riddance if you ask me. But who knows. I hear some of 'em are fightin' for him, too.”

  “Either way,” Santino interjected. “I ain't fightin' an elf, and I ain't fightin' with 'em. I'd rather go home and marry me an ugly woman, and have me some even uglier children.” This brought more laughter. “Besides, if what those desert dwellers say is true, there's plenty of elves wandering the sand. 'Course most of those folk are daft. You let me know when you head east,” he said to Lee. “I might come with you.”

  Lee smiled and got to his feet. “I'll let you know. But I wouldn't wait for the war to start if I were you. And if they go to fight the elves, I'd think twice before I joined.” He brushed off his trousers and went to find Darius and Jacob.

  It was a week into their journey when they first started seeing soldiers from Angrääl. Mostly small groups of six to ten at a time. They didn't bother with the caravan, other than to warn them to be on their guard for bandits.

  “Don't worry,” one soldier had said. “It won't be long before the roads are safe from here all the way to Baltria.”

  Lee continued to train Jacob for at least an hour each day. He noticed that since that night in Klinton, something had changed. He was more focused and, in spite of current circumstances, happier. He even seemed to enjoy the training, and to Lee’s delight, was improving dramatically.

  On the morning of the eighth day, Lee packed their gear and loaded it on the horses. Darius had taken to walking rather than riding, spending most of their days spinning tales of his adventures. Though Lee could tell the man embellished quite a bit (though not as much as when he had a belly full of wine) it was clear Darius was well-traveled. On several occasions, Lee was asked to tell of his own exploits. At first he was resistant, afraid to give something away that would reveal his identity. But after being pressed by both Darius and Jacob, he relented, and leaving out certain details, told of the many wondrous places he had been.

  Just before they stopped for the midday meal, Lee sensed something was wrong. He called for the caravan to halt and reached out with his senses. It was only seconds before he found what he was looking for.

  “Gather your men,” ordered Lee.

  “What's wrong?” asked Darius.

  Lee closed his eyes and listened carefully. “Twenty men. Ten on either side of the road.” His eyes opened. “They're waiting for us.”

  Fear showed on Darius' face. “What should we do?”

  “Let them wait,” Lee replied. “Organize the men, and set up positions. If they realize we know they're there, they may withdraw.”

  “We could sneak around and surprise them,” offered Jacob.

  Lee shook his head. “We're outnumbered two to one. We only have nine trained men. The others aren't swordsmen. If we set them to attack, they'll just get themselves killed.” He examined the surrounding area. The trees and brush along the road were sparse and on relatively high ground. Ahead, where the bandits were waiting, the road dipped and was flanked on either side by a slight incline. “We can defend this position, if we need to.” Lee strode off and gathered the men.

  “I still think we could take them,” said Jacob, once Lee returned. The guards were lined up behind him and checking their weapons.

  “You got a lot to learn, young Jasper,” said Fennio. “The best way to win is to avoid fighting. We're hired guards, not an army. We ain't lookin' to get killed.”

  “I thought you wanted to be a soldier,” teased Santino. “I'm with Jasper. We should take them by surprise. I don't like waitin' to be slaughtered.”

  “We're not attacking!” barked Lee. “They'll know we're aware of them soon enough. And I doubt we could get behind them in broad daylight, anyway.” He drew his sword. “Believe me, if they decide to attack, they're in for a surprise.” His tone silenced any further argument. He turned to Darius. “You stay behind me at all times.” Jacob moved beside him and drew his weapon. “And you stay by my side.”

  Jacob nodded sharply. His muscles tensed with anticipation.

  Lee positioned the men around the wagons, men at arms in front and the rest several feet behind. An hour passed and the bandits had made no move, but Lee could still hear them. He looked at his son and furled his brow. He had known all along that they would likely have to fight, but now that danger was a reality, he was afraid for Jacob's life. He remembered dangers he faced with Gewey, not long ago. He loved Gewey as a son, but was never this concerned. Gewey was a God after all, and very hard to kill.

  Then, down the road, he saw them. Twenty bandits filing toward them at a slow walk, their weapons drawn. The man in front was tall, broad-shouldered, with head shaved, leaving only an inch wide strip of black hair down the center. In his right hand he carried a large battle axe; in his left a small round shield. They halted about twenty yards away and the leader took a few steps forward.

  “Whoever your commander is, he's a sharp one,” called the bandit. “But then, so am I.”

  Darius stepped forward. “What do you want?”

  The bandit laughed. “Something tells me you're not the one who spotted us, fat man.” He shrugged. “Well, I think you know what we want. The question is, are you willing to die for it?”

  Darius held his head high. “Are you?” He looked at his guards, pausing when he met Lee's eyes, smiling. “Give way and find an easier target.”

  The bandit addressed Darius' men. “Listen to me. This fat rich merchant will see you all to your graves. If you leave now, none of you will be harmed. Is his gold worth your life?”

  Lee stepped forward. He focused his strength to make his voice louder. “If all these men run, I will stand. And by the Gods, if I fall, you will fall with me.”

  The bandit shifted uneasily. “I guess I know who the real leader is here.” He steadied his feet. “A man like you could go far. Why are you determined to die? Why not live and get rich?”

  Lee tightened his grip on his sword. He glanced at Jacob, giving him a sinister smirk. “I don't need you to get rich. And your time is nearly up.”

  “So be it,” said the bandit. He looked back at his men and raised his hand.

  The silence was only disturbed by the nervous breathing of the men and the uneasy shifting of the pack animals. Darius moved to Lee's back, a short sword in his hand.

  “Stay near me,” Lee whispered to Jacob. “And keep your back to the wagons.”

  Then the bandit's hand dropped. The attackers charged, screaming wildly as they came. The guards braced themselves. In seconds they clashed. The deafening clatter of steel on steel cut through the air. Lee hoped the bandit leader would come at him first, but he did not, instead choosing to engage the guards to his left. Two bandits swung their rust
y swords at Lee, but found nothing but empty air. Lee cut them down with blinding speed.

  Jacob was dodging blows from a tall, heavy set bandit who wielded a thick broadsword. Fear struck Lee's heart as Jacob was pushed back. He moved to take the bandit's head, but Jacob struck first, thrusting his sword through the man's gut, then ripping it free. Jacob flashed a smile at Lee, then stepped forward to greet another attacker.

  Two more bandits came at Lee but were quickly dispatched. Jacob had taken the arm of another and had placed himself in front of Darius.

  “I'll protect Darius!” shouted Jacob. “Kill the leader!”

  Lee swelled with pride. He scanned the melee for the leader. The guards were holding their ground well. Their experience kept the wagons at their backs and forced the bandits to take them on one at a time. The leader was at the far end. He had killed two guards and was beating back a third. Lee pulled the dagger from his belt and hurled it at the leader. The blade slashed across the man's neck, narrowly missing being buried in his throat. The bandit turned to see Lee charging in, and took a few steps forward to meet him.

  Lee killed two more bandits before he finally reached the leader. He could see the fear in the leader’s eyes as he brought his blade down hard and swift. The bandit was only just able to raise his axe in time, but the force of Lee's blow threw him back. Lee stepped in again, this time bringing his sword upward in a tight arc. The tip dug into the bandit's left thigh and tore its way to his hip. The bandit grimaced and staggered, swinging his axe frantically. Lee moved deftly away, then slashed into the leader’s right shoulder. The axe fell to the dirt with a sharp thud. The bandit closed his eyes as Lee moved in. One more powerful blow sent the bandit's head flying. The body stood erect for a moment, blood squirting rhythmically from its neck, then crumbled to the ground. Seeing their fallen leader, one by one the remaining bandits began to flee.

  “Do not pursue them,” Lee shouted. He rushed to his son's side; Jacob was still breathing heavily from the fight. His shirt and trouser were drenched in blood, and spots of red dotted his cheeks.