Gods & Dragons: 8 Fantasy Novels

by Daniel Arenson

  “He is.”

  “Did you speak with him?”

  “I did. He bears the mark of the abandoned, Claire. It covers his entire hand. Never have I seen one so hated by Karak.”

  Claire nodded.

  “Then it will be good to get this business done, and execute such a faithless traitor.”

  Valessa frowned at the word faithless. So strange. She heard the desperate faith in Darius’s voice. No one was as skilled a liar as that, to put on such a performance. She didn’t want to imagine the turmoil that must be within his soul.

  “The sooner, the better,” Valessa agreed, wishing to think no more on the matter.

  * * * * *

  “The women are dangerous,” Gregane said when the gray sisters were gone. “Perhaps it would have been better to hand over the paladin now.”

  “Even the faithful are willing to make deals to reach their ends,” Sebastian said, waving dismissively. “I captured Darius, not them, and I will consider this my reward. Arthur’s been a thorn in my side long enough.”

  He glanced over to where Sir Mark waited, hands behind his back and his head bowed.

  “What is it?” he asked, annoyed.

  “The people of Stonahm,” the knight began. “They’ve rebelled against your rule.”

  Sebastian poured himself a cup of wine and sipped it. He felt his veins turn to ice as the words sank in.

  “How so?” he asked at last.

  “I’d come for tithes, but instead of handing them over, one of their men assaulted me when my back was turned. I was beaten, and sent away with orders never to return.”

  “You were there for tithes, and just tithes, I assume?”

  “Of course, milord.”

  Sebastian hurled the glass, which shattered against the knight’s breastplate. The wine splashed across the armor, staining it purple.

  “Do not treat me like an idiot, Mark. You mistook tits for tithes again, didn’t you? Get out of my sight.”

  Sir Mark flushed and, still dripping, turned and exited the room. Sebastian sat back in his chair and snapped his fingers. A servant lurking behind a curtain heard, and he quickly came with another glass.

  “What must be done?” Gregane asked.

  “I have Arthur harassing me from his castle, Kaide from the forest. One I can’t get to, and the other I can’t find. This will not go on. If the peasants think, for even a moment, they can get away with challenging my authority, a full-blown revolt will not be far behind.”

  “Give me a hundred men,” Gregane said. “I will teach them a lesson the whole North will talk about.”

  Sebastian accepted the cup from the servant, and filled it with more wine.

  “To Stonahm,” he said before downing it. “Go put fear into the heart of the North.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Jerico had wondered how he’d find his way back to Kaide’s hideout, but his worries were unfounded. Reaching the forest was easy enough, the path simple and often traveled. At the edge of the trees, he set up camp and slept, making sure his fire burned long and with plenty of smoke. When he awoke the next morning, his horse was gone.

  “Huh?” he grunted, realizing the absence. He hadn’t been alerted by Ashhur to any danger, so he assumed it was members of Kaide’s band. His supplies lay beside him, and he prepared his morning meal while the few remaining birds sang in the bare treetops. After awhile, he sensed eyes watching him, and he grinned.

  “You’ve taken my horse,” he called out. “The least you could have done was take me with him.”

  A pause, and then the bandit stepped out from hiding. He was hardly the thief he expected.

  “Ricky?” Jerico asked.

  The boy nodded. He stood erect, as if willing himself to appear taller, more mature.

  “I had to make sure you was you,” he said.

  “Well, I am I,” Jerico said. “Care to lead me back to camp?”

  Ricky gestured, and Jerico slung his pack across a shoulder and followed.

  “No one thought you was coming back,” Ricky said. “But they left me here just in case you did. They’re all killing soldiers, so no one could stay and watch.”

  “Killing soldiers?” Jerico asked, ducking underneath a low branch. They followed no path, just pushed through the brush and leaves deeper and deeper into the woods.

  “Don’t think you can get me to talk,” he said. “I’m smarter than that.”

  “Of course, I certainly don’t mean to offend.” Jerico gave him a moment to cool off, then continued. “Beth’s fine, by the way. I don’t know if anyone told you.”

  “Kaide told me.”

  Ricky shot a glance behind him, and for a moment he looked like the young, indecisive kid he was.

  “Thank you,” he said.

  “Did it for her, not you, but you’re welcome anyway.”

  The camp was silent as they entered, empty as Ricky had said.

  “Where are they?” Jerico asked. “If they’re fighting, perhaps I can help.”

  Ricky grew flustered.

  “Too far to walk, and you couldn’t even if you wanted to.”

  The door to one of the cabins opened, and it turned out the camp wasn’t completely empty.

  “Our hero returns,” Sandra said, and she laughed at Jerico’s over-exaggerated bow.

  “I could never stay away from you for long,” he said, shooting her a wink. Ricky rolled his eyes, then yawned long and loud. Jerico remembered the boy had stolen his horse during the night, as well as how far the walk had been from there to the forest’s edge.

  “Have you been up all night?” he asked.

  “Kaide says sometimes men have to go days without sleep.”

  “And sometimes men go days without food or water, but it doesn’t help them none. Go to sleep, Ricky. I didn’t come all this way just to run off again. Besides, Sandra’s here. She’ll stab me if I try anything.”

  Ricky relented, casting one last watchful eye on the two of them before vanishing into his cabin.

  “I’m not sure I feel safe around you alone,” Sandra said.

  Jerico opened the door to his own little hut and tossed his supplies inside.

  “Don’t worry too much. With this limp, I doubt I could catch a crone.”

  “Catch me? I wouldn’t run, paladin. I’d knock you flat and crush your testicles for the attempt. And you don’t want to imagine what Kaide would do afterward.”

  “Would he make me tonight’s supper?”

  Sandra laughed, but the laugh died when he limped toward the stable.

  “Your leg,” she said. “Does it hurt much?”

  Jerico shrugged.

  “It’s bearable,” he said. “I’ll pray over it soon, like I should have this morning. Much of the pain is just weakened muscle, and lingering effects of a curse.”

  At the stables, he found his horse tied and fed, and the saddle properly removed. Patting the horse’s side, he took a breath and steadied himself. His knee throbbed, the rough travel through the forest feeling like it’d removed every bit of progress he’d made the past few days. He put on a tough show, though, and tried to minimize the limp as he walked back to the center of the hideout. He made it halfway there before he leaned against a home and groaned, tilting his head back with his eyes closed.

  “Let me see the leg,” Sandra said, her playful tone gone. Sighing, Jerico rolled up his pant leg, and even he winced at the sight. A purple bruise covered the entire knee. The bones were healed, though the surface of his kneecap was oddly shaped, as if it hadn’t smoothed out upon rejoining. The surrounding skin was swollen red, and when she pressed her fingers against it, he let out a gasp.

  “Damn fool,” Sandra said. “You walked all the way through the forest on that?”

  “It felt better at the time.”

  “Get to your bed, or beside the fire if you’d like. I need to start it soon, anyway. When Kaide and his men return, they’ll be eager for a feast to celebrate their victory.”
/>   “And if they lose?” Jerico asked as he accepted her help, leaning half his weight upon her.

  “Then they’ll need food and drink to toast the memory of the fallen. Either way, we’ll need meat.”

  The two hobbled to his cabin, and she laid him down on the bed. The relief was immediate.

  “Join me when you wish,” Sandra said, shutting the door behind her as she left.

  Finally alone, Jerico spent time in prayer, pouring healing magic into his knee. He knew he should have stayed in Stonahm. He was traveling on a leg mere days after an injury most would take months to recover from. But the way the people of the village had looked at him, as if he had been in the wrong protecting that woman … he didn’t want to feel those eyes upon him anymore. As he prayed, the pain subsided, and the swelling lessened. He sighed with relief. Didn’t look like he’d added any permanent damage.

  When finished, he ate the last rations from his pack, then stepped outside. The air had a bite to it, and the burgeoning fire Sandra built called out to him. Grabbing a blanket off the bed, he laid it down beside the bonfire.

  “I’ll keep quiet so I don’t wake you,” Sandra said as she tossed on another log.

  “Much appreciated.”

  The crackling of the fire soothed him, and he was halfway asleep when he heard Sandra say his name.

  “Jerico … thank you for saving my niece.”

  “Welcome,” he said, eyes still closed. He felt her lingering nearby, though, so he opened an eyelid and looked over. She was staring at his leg, still exposed since he had not rolled down the pant leg after his prayers.

  “The man, Kren … why did he attack you?”

  Jerico let his head drop back to the dirt.

  “Kaide told you about that, I take it? Guess there’s no reason to hide it. He attacked me because I might be all that’s left. Karak’s paladins have begun a secret war, one I fear we’ve already lost. My brothers, my home…”

  His voice trailed off, and he listened to the fire burn.

  “Don’t you hate them for it?” Sandra asked.

  “I shouldn’t. Ashhur forgive me, I often do, but I shouldn’t. I can’t hate, Sandra. It’ll destroy everything I am. Maybe that makes me a fool. Maybe that’s why the world will soon move on without me. But I won’t hate them. Pity, yes. Remorse. Sadness. I’ll even kill if I must, and bloody my hands to protect the life of another. But I won’t hate.”

  It took her a long while before Sandra could respond.

  “After everything that’s happened, I fear my brother knows only hatred.”

  “Then I’ll pray for him, if you’d like.”

  “Please do.”

  Her footsteps trailed off as she left the fire unattended. Jerico prayed for them both, as he’d promised, and then did his best to forget it all so he might sleep.

  The sound of arguing woke him sometime later. Jerico sat up, his hand reaching for the weapon he no longer had. Shaking dirt and leaves from his hair, he glanced at the sky to gauge the time. Late afternoon. His knee felt stiff, but the pain had lessened. Standing with his weight on the other leg, he waited for the men to arrive. Sandra joined him not long after, carrying a slab of salted meat.

  “They’re angry,” she said, her voice low. “Do you think…”

  “Assume nothing,” Jerico said, helping her set up the spit. “Only hope for the best, and pray against the worst.”

  Despite his words, Jerico also thought a rough defeat had befallen them, but it seemed that was not the case. When the first of many men appeared, they lacked a single wound upon their bodies.

  “It doesn’t matter that I couldn’t have killed them all,” Bellok grumbled as he and Kaide walked toward the bonfire. “Packed together and unaware, I would I have wiped out half of Sebastian’s men before they even knew…”

  “Jerico,” Kaide said, seeing the paladin. He approached with his back to Bellok, who clearly did not appreciate the interruption.

  The rest of the men were joining them, all grumbling amongst themselves. Most ignored him, though a few, the Irons twins in particular, did their best to greet him warmly.

  “I took too long building the fire,” Sandra said. “I’m sorry. I’ve just begun.”

  “And what you’ve got won’t be enough,” Kaide said. “Adam, go grab us something more to eat. I think all of us could use a bit of blood in our bellies.”

  “Be better if we had blood on our blades instead,” Adam muttered as he headed off to one of the buildings.

  “Such dour moods,” Jerico said. “What is so terrible?”

  “We had our ambush prepared,” Bellok said, sitting on a heavy log beside Jerico. “We expected only a handful of knights, but instead a good forty marched toward us. With my magic alone, I could have—”

  “You could have cooked one inside his armor, maybe two,” Kaide said, drawing his dirk and stabbing it into the log he sat on. “We were outnumbered, and they were armed and mounted. We’d have been slaughtered.”

  “We had surprise,” one of the men muttered.

  “They can’t stand toe to toe with us!” Griff hollered, and the rest of the men echoed approval.

  “Is that what you want?” Kaide asked. “To have charged out of the forest and died, just to kill a few random knights? Which of you, in your plain clothes and leather boots, would have withstood a single blow from their swords? Which of you has the strength to crack a chestplate of iron with only a wooden club?”

  The men fell silent, until Adam reappeared, holding a slab of meat.

  “I coulda,” he said.

  Kaide looked up at him, and for the first time since returning, he smiled.

  “I don’t doubt that, Adam. All of you, I don’t doubt you. But I don’t want to lose you, no matter what. The advantage wasn’t ours. One day, it will be, and we’ll break their necks and send their horses running to the four corners of Dezrel.”

  “Bet if Jerico was with us…”

  Jerico didn’t catch who said it, but Kaide did.

  “You got something to say, Barry?”

  Of the many men gathered, the shortest of the lot stepped forward, a thin man with a long beard. When he spoke, Jerico recognized him as the amusingly cranky jailor from before.

  “Yeah, I do. I bet if Jerico was with us, you’d have given the order. You wish we all was him, don’t you? Wish we had training, fancy armor, and weapons that cost more than everything we ever owned put together. It’s been three years, Kaide. When’s the time gonna be right? When we ever gonna make them pay for what they did to us at Ashvale?”

  The crowd fell silent, and the chill in the air was colder than it’d been all night, paying no heed to the fire. Jerico glanced between them, wondering if he’d need to intervene. His place or not, he wouldn’t watch one of them murder the other.

  “Of course I wish I had knights,” Kaide said, his voice deathly quiet. “Of course I wish for weapons, armor, and horses. I wish Lord Hemman was dead, and I could piss on his corpse while the whole world watched. But that don’t matter none. I’d trade every single one of those wishes to have Lisbeth in my arms one more night. You got a problem with how I lead, then you go right ahead and leave.”

  In the following silence, Sandra’s soft voice carried the power of a thunderclap.

  “None of you are here because of my brother. You’re here because of Sebastian, because of what he did. I haven’t forgotten. Have you, Barry? Have you forgotten the smiling face of your little Mary?”

  Barry stepped back, as if ashamed.

  “I’m sorry, Kaide. You too, Sandra. I do miss my girl, but I got boys and a wife at Stonahm. They been waiting three years for me to come home. What we done all this time? We’ve hurt Sebastian, cost him some coin, but we’re no closer to taking back our home. We’re no closer to victory. This ain’t a war we can win. It’s not even a war. We’re a fly buzzing ʼround the ears of a horse, just biting.”

  Barry left for his room. Jerico watched him go, while the rest o
f the men looked the other away. Kaide muttered a curse under his breath. Conversation took awhile to restart, but when it did, it was on a hundred other things than the failed ambush that night. The smell of cooking meat wafted over them, and Jerico felt his own stomach growl.

  “What is it you’re cooking?” Jerico asked Adam, who was turning the spit.

  “Leftover knight,” Adam said, grinning.

  “Enough,” Kaide said. “I’m tired of that damn joke. It was never funny.”

  The bandit leader stood and left. When it seemed no one would follow, Jerico looked to Sandra.

  “Go,” she said. “I know him. He’ll want to talk, but only to someone he trusts will listen.”

  Jerico stood and limped after.

  “I prefer to be alone with my thoughts,” Kaide said as Jerico approached. He leaned against a heavy pine outside the ring of their homes, his back to the fire.

  “We paladins are known for being intrusive.”

  “That you are.”

  No humor in his voice, just barbs. Jerico shrugged it off.

  “You wanted my help once. You still do?”

  Kaide glanced at him with red-veined eyes.

  “Do I? Of course. But you heard the men. What does it matter? We’re just flies.”

  Jerico crossed his arms and leaned against another pine, relieved to remove some weight from his knee. He watched Kaide for a while, saying nothing. He always considered himself a good judge of character. Many times he’d encountered outlaws, and they had a vibe about them that Kaide lacked. None of the rest seemed quite right with it, either. This wasn’t a ploy for coin. This wasn’t a man taking something because he could, or because he thumbed his nose at authority. Something more was at stake. Ashvale … What had happened at Ashvale?

  “I want to help you,” Jerico said. “But I have to believe I’m doing the right thing. Tell me why you do this. Tell me the reason you fight. Who were you before this started?”

  “Who was I?” Kaide laughed, and he looked to the darkening sky. “I was Kaide Goldflint, son and heir to a fortune, a fortune stolen away from me by Lord Sebastian Hemman. Will that suffice?”

  Jerico shook his head.

  “No, it won’t. What happened there? Three years ago, Barry said. Help me understand.”