Gods & Dragons: 8 Fantasy Novels

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Gods & Dragons: 8 Fantasy Novels Page 204

by Daniel Arenson


  “Betrayer!” Mallak cried, drawing his sword in time to block Darius’s follow-up swing. Their blades connected, showering sparks. The dark fire wreathing Mallak’s sword was far greater, and with ease he pushed Darius back. “You will burn for eternity for such cowardice!”

  Valessa could not believe her luck. The damned prophet was gone, and here was Darius deserving every bit of pain she could deliver. Karak must have smiled upon her. She watched as the two paladins exchanged swings, with Darius clearly the inferior in strength and passably equal in skill. When she saw an opening, his back completely to her, she tensed her legs to lunge. Searing pain flooded her back before she could, and then she found herself flying through the air. Tucking her shoulder, she rolled, then spun so she might dig her heels into the dirt to halt her momentum.

  Chasing after her was Jerico with that damned shield of his. Worse, he was apologizing.

  “Sorry,” he said, carefully approaching. “Don’t like attacking opponents unaware.”

  “Consider me aware,” she said, twirling her daggers in her hands. One opening … just one opening …

  He lifted his mace to strike, and she went for it, one blade jamming inward to lock his shield out of place, the other thrusting for the gap in his armor at the armpit. Numbing pain jolted into her hand as her dagger hit the shield, but she forced herself on. Her other dagger sliced into flesh, and then she whirled, avoiding the downward chop of his mace. The paladin let out a cry, and it was music to her ears. Continuing her spin, she stayed close, and her daggers stabbed for a crease just above his shoulder.

  “I have no problem stabbing a man in the back,” she said through clenched teeth as Jerico’s body reacted on instinct, arching his upper half toward her. She twisted the dagger, locking his right arm from striking at her with his mace.

  “How could you kill Claire?” she asked, still pressed tight against him. “You, a slow, dim-witted fool? She was worlds beyond you.”

  “Because I … have … friends.”

  Jerico ducked, and Darius’s elbow caught her full in the face. Her training kicked in, and Valessa rolled with it to minimize the damage, leaving one of her two daggers still embedded in Jerico’s shoulder. When she returned to her feet, the next few seconds were a jumbled blur. Her eyes watered from the hit, and the throbbing in her head seemed to make everything a haze. Jerico fell to one side, still bleeding. Instead of pressing the attack on her, Darius spun, flinging his weapon up to block Mallak’s attack, who was far from beaten. Mallak, it seemed, had tried to kill Jerico while he lay helpless. As Valessa lunged to help, Jerico rolled to his knees and lifted his shield. Its light shone upon her, and already weakened, she struggled to push onward. It felt as if her every movement was through ice water. Jerico met her ineffective attack with that damn shield of his. Her whole body pressed against it, but she could only cry out in agony. Never before had she felt such pain.

  Valessa hit the ground, her only conscious thought that of the ringing in her ears. As if from someone else’s body, she watched the battle end. Jerico turned his shield back to Mallak, joining the traitor Darius’s side. Mallak, seemingly realizing he had to end the fight quickly now that he was outnumbered, assaulted the wounded Jerico with all his might. The fire of his blade flared, and he struck with awesome fury. Jerico’s shield weathered the blows, though he cried out in pain all the while. But Darius was there, and he took the opening before him. Valessa silently shrieked as the traitor thrust his blade through a crease in Mallak’s armor, and then twisted the handle. Blood gushed from Mallak’s side, and when he coughed, more spilled across his lips and neck. He fell.

  “Help me,” Valessa whispered, struggling to stand. It was as if her limbs had suddenly stopped taking orders. “Please, Karak, help me…”

  Jerico fell to one knee, and he screamed when Darius yanked out the dagger she had lodged into his shoulder. Whatever satisfaction she might have felt meant nothing knowing he would survive. So many dead, and all their fault … all their fault.

  “Karak,” she breathed. “I am your darkness. I am your shadow. Do not abandon me. Not now.”

  The two paladins turned their attention to her, and there was no misunderstanding the look in Darius’s eyes as he approached.

  “Don’t,” she heard Jerico say, and she felt fury at any false sympathy he might show. Darius refused to listen.

  “I’m sending her to her god,” said the traitor. “I know what she is, what she is capable of. The world is better this way.”

  “I will hunt you,” Valessa said to him, even as tears welled in her eyes. “Even to the Abyss.”

  The traitor knelt beside her, and he touched her face with a hand even as the other lifted his sword so the point rested against her throat.

  “I will never feel the Abyss’s flames,” he said. “Don’t you see, sister? I’m Karak’s champion no longer.”

  “Darius!” cried Jerico.

  He hesitated, and that was enough for her. With the last of her strength, she flung herself onto his blade. The metal pierced flesh, her whole body retched, and then she felt fire burning.

  * * * * *

  Jerico and Darius stood over the bodies, and they watched as Valessa’s corpse was consumed by a dark fire.

  “I’ve never seen such a thing,” Darius said, watching until she was all but ash.

  “I think we’ve seen more than few firsts today,” Jerico said, and he grinned despite the pain and blood that trickled down the inside of his armor. With his good arm, he gestured to where Gregane’s army had pushed into the forest in chase of Lord Arthur’s men.

  “I think we should get out of here,” he said, chuckling despite the pain it caused. “At some point they’re going to come back, and I doubt they’ll be happy with us.”

  “Where do we go?” Darius asked as he came over to inspect his wounds.

  “Later,” Jerico said, pushing him back. “I’ve survived worse. And where should we go? You’re an outlaw now, as much as I.”

  Darius looked to the forest.

  “I spoke with Sebastian,” he said. “I’ve seen how his mind works. If Arthur is alive, we need to help him. It only seems right, given the mess I helped cause here in the North.”

  “Plenty my fault, too,” Jerico said, and he leaned on Darius to remain standing. “Let’s put Gregane’s army far behind us. I know a place we can hide.”

  EPILOGUE

  “You are certain?” Sir Robert Godley asked as he leaned back in his wooden chair, which creaked from his weight.

  “Sure as I am of anything in this world,” said Jeremy Hangfield, who stood with his hands clasped behind his back, the chosen spokesmen for the people of Durham.

  “And you have witnesses who will swear to this?”

  “Over a hundred,” Jeremy said. “This was something we’ll never forget. We’ll say it until our graves, or the king brings us justice.”

  “Go,” Robert said, dismissing him. “I promise you an answer by tomorrow.”

  The man bowed and left Robert to be alone with his most trusted friend, Daniel Coldmine, in his room in the Blood Tower.

  “This is bad,” Daniel said.

  “I gathered as much.”

  “No, you don’t understand.” Daniel leaned on the desk with both hands, and he looked out the window to the distant wild lands of the Wedge. “A paladin of Karak? We can’t make enemies with the Stronghold. You know damn well how favored his priests are in the capital.”

  “But that many witnesses…”

  “They’ll mean nothing, and you know it. All their lives are a pile of shit in the eyes of anyone outside the North.”

  Robert crossed his arms and forced himself to bite his tongue. He knew there were good people in the capital, but Daniel was right. Given the current balance of power, they would be making enemies of those who controlled the mind and heart of the king.

  “What is it you think I should do?” he asked.

  “Bring him in for questioning,” Danie
l said, turning to him. “Play it safe. Either that, or give him over to the Stronghold and let them handle the matter.”

  Robert scratched at his chin, then shook his head.

  “No. I’m tired of these games, Daniel. The whole North is in chaos because of those two Hemman brothers, and the king already loathes my name. He’ll leave me to settle this on my own, and settle it I will. I want proclamations given to every single village along the Gihon, and for them to send riders west until they reach the sea announcing the same. The dark paladin known as Darius shall be executed on sight, without trial or capture. Offer the largest reward we can afford. A hundred people watched him burn their village to the ground, a village I helped save! If he’ll destroy what all our good men died for, then we’ll destroy him, and to the Abyss with what the Stronghold might think.”

  “Are those your orders?” Daniel asked.

  “They are,” said Robert. “And I expect them carried out.”

  Daniel saluted.

  “You’re thrusting fire at a hornet’s nest,” he said. “But I’ll trust you.”

  He left the room, and once alone, Robert swore up a storm.

  “Damn you, Darius,” he said, slamming a fist against the top of his desk. “How could you do such a thing? How?”

  He would receive no answers, for he wanted none. The entire North would descend upon him, and if the world were just, Darius would receive the punishment he deserved. And if Karak had a problem with that …

  “I’m afraid of no gods,” Robert said. “Not Ashhur. Not Karak. None of you.”

  He thought of the corpses strewn across Durham’s streets, of what the Stronghold’s reaction might be, and then poured himself a drink to help make some truth of that statement.

  * * * * *

  Valessa thought she went to her god, to join her deity in the Abyss, but something was wrong. The image of Darius refused to fade. Fire burned across her flesh, but she saw no darkness, just the face of a man who had turned against everything she stood for. Her body felt strange, full of pain but without any definitive source. At last Darius’s face broke like shards of glass, and she saw darkness. Within that darkness, a lion roared.

  Not yet, she heard a voice say, the words flooding her existence with cold terror.

  And then she was plummeting downward, feeling wind blasting against her hard enough to steal away her breath … if she was still breathing. When she hit, she screamed, and all at once her senses returned to her. The world was dark, and high above glittered a field of stars. She felt no sensations of heat, or cold. All she felt was pain, a constant ache from every part of her pale, naked body. Looking about, she realized she was beyond the Gulch, instead at the distant shrine where she had met Karak’s prophet.

  When she took a step, she fell. Forcing herself back to her feet, she took another, this time watching her naked body to see what betrayed her.

  When she moved, her body lost all color, texture, and became a swirl of shadow.

  You have your most heartfelt desire, that cold voice spoke once more. Find him. Kill him. I will not wait for my prophet’s return to bring punishment to my most unfaithful servant.

  “As you wish,” Valessa whispered to the stars. Near where she awoke, she saw her daggers lying there, as if calling out to her. When she brought them into her hands, they swirled with darkness and power.

  “Thank you,” she prayed, and she would have cried if her body remained capable of tears. “Thank you so much.”

  Her heart’s greatest desire.

  At her hands, Darius would die.

  From the Author

  It’s hard to describe just how difficult this book was to write.

  I mean, it shouldn’t have been. Bringing back recurring characters always makes things easier than starting from scratch. In terms of length, Clash of Faiths isn’t particularly long. Heck, it even featured Velixar prominently, who makes every scene I write so much easier and enjoyable. So what was so difficult?

  I’ve done scenes where Velixar tries to tear down a paladin before (notably in Shadows of Grace, with delicious scenes between him and Jerico). But this time, it wasn’t someone fighting against him, proving him wrong. It was someone accepting him. It was someone willing to believe, if only for a moment, that he might be right. That the story went down a dark road for a while after that doesn’t surprise me in the slightest. Jerico’s words very much echoed my own, so much I wonder if Darius’s salvation was a necessity for myself. Accompanied by Jerico’s own failures and struggles, this whole novel was an uphill climb. I’m glad they’ve reached the top, and are now side by side (for however long). They’ve got some work to do.

  Not sure when I’ll be back for paladins #3, though it is pretty clear that I will be soon. [From the Editor: Paladins #3 is available now!] Darius and Jerico are not yet done, and I have a sneaking suspicion Darius will have a book of his own. And Valessa…ah Valessa, I plan on having so much fun with you. I say that in an author sense, not any weird, creepy…moving on. More paladins, but not yet. I’ve got plenty of readers wanting me to finish up Haern’s story in the Shadowdance Trilogy, so that’s next on the project list. Hopefully not too long after, I can see how well Darius takes to a new set of morals and beliefs. I have a feeling it won’t be easy.

  As always, thanks for making it to the end. I hope you enjoyed yourself immensely, and if you didn’t, I apologize and promise to do better next time. If you’d like some updates, swing by

  www.facebook.com/DavidDalglish

  or

  ddalglish.com.

  I try to keep them both current on what I’m doing. Also, feel free to email me at

  [email protected]

  and I’ll try to respond promptly.

  One last big thanks to all of you who have been writing reviews, recommending to friends, groups, and on message boards. You’ve kept me going, and helped me entertain countless others. It’s still just me, flinging my stories to the world and hoping readers give it life. I couldn’t, nor wouldn’t, do this without you. Thank you.

  David Dalglish

  July 23, 2011

  * * * * *

  BOOKS BY DAVID DALGLISH

  THE HALF-ORC SERIES

  The Weight of Blood

  The Cost of Betrayal

  The Death of Promises

  The Shadows of Grace

  A Sliver of Redemption

  The Prison of Angels

  THE SHADOWDANCE SERIES

  Cloak and Spider (novella)

  A Dance of Cloaks

  A Dance of Blades

  A Dance of Mirrors

  A Dance of Shadows

  A Dance of Ghosts

  A Dance of Chaos

  THE PALADINS

  Night of Wolves

  Clash of Faiths

  The Old Ways

  The Broken Pieces

  THE BREAKING WORLD

  Dawn of Swords

  Wrath of Lions

  Blood of Gods

  Find David’s Books on Amazon

  Table of Contents

  MOTH - Daniel Arenson Foreword

  CHAPTER ONE: A DISCOVERY IN DUSK

  CHAPTER TWO: THE WATCHTOWER’S SHADOW

  CHAPTER THREE: A DUEL IN THE DARK

  CHAPTER FOUR: RAVEN’S FLIGHT

  CHAPTER FIVE: KOYEE

  CHAPTER SIX: THE TOWERS OF PAHMEY

  CHAPTER SEVEN: THE DUST FACE GHOSTS

  CHAPTER EIGHT: CLOAKS AND ARROWS

  CHAPTER NINE: A FESTIVAL OF FIRE

  CHAPTER TEN: FISH IN A BASKET

  CHAPTER ELEVEN: A COUNCIL OF KINGS

  CHAPTER TWELVE: THE KING’S COMMAND

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN: THE ELDERS

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN: THE BONE FLUTE

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN: BUSKERS AND THIEVES

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN: THE WOLF PACK

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN: THE GREEN GEODE

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN: THE DRUMS OF WAR

  CHAPTER NINETEEN: IN THE WOLF’S JAW

  CHA
PTER TWENTY: FIRE IN THE DARK

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE: THE DISTANT FIRE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO: GIFTS OF THE NIGHT

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE: FIRE ON THE WATER

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR: THE HUNGRY RIVER

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE: TIGERS AND WOLVES

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX: ON THE WALLS

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN: BETWEEN WISDOM AND WOLVES

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT: OLD GHOSTS

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE: STEEL AND FEATHERS

  CHAPTER THIRTY: THE DUSKMOTH

  EMPIRES OF MOTH - Daniel Arenson CHAPTER ONE: JIN

  CHAPTER TWO: THE SUN AND MOON

  CHAPTER THREE: THE SISTERS OF HARMONY

  CHAPTER FOUR: THE QUEEN OF SUNLIGHT

  CHAPTER FIVE: DANCE OF DEATH AND LIFE

  CHAPTER SIX: HIDDEN LIFE

  CHAPTER SEVEN: OF CLAY AND COURAGE

  CHAPTER EIGHT: INTO DARKNESS

  CHAPTER NINE: THE WATER SPIDER

  CHAPTER TEN: THE FISHERMAN’S CHILDREN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN: THE FIRE

  CHAPTER TWELVE: THE DAUGHTER OF WOLVES

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN: LEAVETAKING

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN: THE PAINTED BUFFALO

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN: THE IRON ROAD

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN: THE GAUNTLET

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN: SAGE’S ROAD

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN: THE HALL OF THE DARK EMPRESS

  CHAPTER NINETEEN: THE BEAR MASQUERADE

  CHAPTER TWENTY: TIANLONG

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE: THE HALLS OF ETERNAL HARMONY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO: THE CLOCKWORK KING

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE: THE SHIPS OF ILAR

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR: THE HORNS OF YINTAO

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE: A SILVER LIGHT

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX: A MEMORY OF DAY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN: THE BLOOD OF YINTAO

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT: THE RED MILE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE: BROKEN

 

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