The Godling Chronicles : Bundle - Books 1-3

by Brian D. Anderson

  “Yes, sir.” Lee tensed.

  He pointed to Lee's sword. “That’s quite a weapon for a sell-sword. Let me see it.”

  Lee unsheathed his blade and handed it to the captain.

  “It’s well-balanced,” Lanmore remarked approvingly. “Superbly crafted. A true master’s sword.” He looked up at Lee and smiled. “Is that what you are? A sword master perhaps? By the way you walk, I doubt you're a mere sell-sword. I've been a soldier too long not to notice things like that.” He handed Lee back his weapon.

  Lee returned his sword to his scabbard and squared his shoulders.

  “And you know when to be silent as well,” remarked Lanmore. “Good. Very good. Well, whatever you run from, you need not fear it here. The Reborn King will give you a new life. Would you like that?”

  “Yes, sir,” Lee replied.

  “I thought as much.” He turned his attention to the rest of the men. “That goes for all of you. Whoever you were before, whatever wrongs you have committed, they are, as of this moment, forgiven. The Reborn King grants you pardon. Together, we shall forge a new world in his name. We shall sweep aside the liars and oppressors.” His sword sang as he pulled it from his scabbard and stepped back. “But be warned. If any one of you seeks to betray us, or fails in his duty, you will find the King’s justice to be harsh and final.” He turned to the gatehouse and whistled.

  Ten men burst forth carrying sacks of food and blankets, which they distributed among the new recruits. Soon fires were lit and the scent of cooked meat permeated the air. Lee and Jacob sat with Fennio to eat.

  “What do you think?” asked Fennio. “All sounds a bit crazy to me. Not to mention that Captain Lanmore fellow shooting that poor chap.”

  “If he hadn't, we'd still be sitting here hungry and cold,” said Lee. “The point was to make an impression.”

  “Exactly,” said a voice just behind Lee. It was Lanmore.

  Lee and the others leaped to their feet and stood at attention.

  “Come with me, Barath,” ordered Lanmore.

  Captain Lanmore led Lee through the gatehouse door and into the fortress. The flagstone path led to the inner yard where a few scattered soldiers were patrolling the area. The keep at the far end was a single story structure with a gray slate roof. Barracks large enough to house two hundred men each were built just below the curtain walls on either side.

  Halfway to the keep, Captain Lanmore halted and turned. “I've brought you here to see if my judgment has failed me.”

  A man broader and taller than Lee, clad in black fur, leather boots and carrying a long, two-handed sword, stalked out of the barracks and made his way over to Lanmore’s side. His head was shaved and scarred, and his dark eyes were fixed menacingly on Lee.

  “This is Lars,” said Lanmore. “He is by far our strongest warrior, and one of the few we have here who is native to Angrääl. I want you to kill him - if you can.”

  Without a word, Lee drew his sword and prepared for Lars to charge. He didn't have to wait long. The hulking Northman sprang forward with surprising agility and speed, but Lee easily moved aside and brought his blade across the man’s left arm, laying it open. The Northman roared with fury and swung his sword in a wide arc, but again, Lee stepped away. This time he sliced open his opponent’s right thigh. As Lars reached down, clutching at the wound, Lee smashed the hilt of his sword square between his opponent’s eyes. Lars staggered, and Lee struck him again, this time sending him onto his back.

  “Why are you toying with him?” asked Captain Lanmore. “Has he offended you?”

  Lars struggled to rise, sword still in hand, but Lee brought his boot hard down on his fingers. The great blade fell free and Lee kicked it away.

  “Your order stands?” asked Lee, the tip of his sword hovering at Lars' throat.

  Lanmore said nothing. Lee nodded with understanding, then rammed the blade clean through Lars' exposed neck, burying the tip in the flagstone below. The Northman gurgled, clutching at the wound. After a minute he moved no more. Lee cleaned his sword on his opponent’s furs.

  “I'm glad I didn't test your skills with my own blade,” Lanmore remarked with a hint of amusement. “You are clearly one of the best trained swordsmen that has come through here in some time. But then, you don't hide it as well as you might think. In fact, I think you could have taken Lars the moment he came at you. Why didn't you?”

  “I may have been able to kill him more quickly,” agreed Lee. “But I've learned to never underestimate an opponent. His first strike may have been a deception. As it was, he moved with great speed for one of his size. I saw no need to risk it.”

  “Wise,” said Lanmore, smiling. He reached in his belt and pulled out a small red ribbon. He handed it to Lee. “You shall lead the recruits on the journey north. Do a good job and there may be more rewarding positions awaiting you.” He spun on his heels and walked away toward the keep.

  Lee cursed under his breath and walked to the gatehouse. Four men were already collecting the body of Lars. When he reached Jacob, he pulled him away from earshot. His face gave away his feelings.

  “What's wrong?” asked Jacob.

  “I have failed to go unnoticed,” Lee replied. “Captain Lanmore is a very good judge of people. At least, from a soldiering standpoint. He saw my training in my movements. Now, I'm promoted.”

  “How is that bad?” Jacob laughed. “Won't that make things easier?”

  “Don't be a fool,” growled Lee. “As a simple soldier I could move about without drawing attention. As an officer, not only will I be noticed, but sooner or later I'll be discovered for who I am.” He thought for a moment. “If I am captured, they will figure out who you are as well. It may be better if you flee.”

  “You know I won't,” shot Jacob.

  “Yes.” Lee reached out and squeezed his shoulder. “I know. But if I'm found out, you must try to escape. You must abandon your attempt to rescue your mother and head to Sharpstone. Millet will aid you.” He met Jacob’s eyes. “Swear it.”

  “But....” began Jacob.

  “Swear it!” he repeated, this time much more forcefully.

  Jacob bowed his head. “I swear. But only if rescue is impossible.”

  Lee wanted to embrace his son at that moment, but resisted. He knew he must appear to others to be distant, and Lanmore may well be watching him. “I suppose that will suffice,” he said. They rejoined the others and bedded down for the night.

  The sunrise brought trumpets from the fortress walls. Captain Lanmore and six soldiers emerged from the gatehouse. Lee attached the ribbon to his coat and strode up to meet them.

  “Good morning, Captain,” he said.

  Lanmore nodded curtly. “Get them ready, Barath. We march in ten minutes.”

  Lee spun around and jogged back to the recruits. “Form ranks!” The force of his voice snapped everyone to attention. At first they just stood there, staring at him. “Now!” he barked. This was enough to get the men moving. In less than five minutes, all were packed and lined up along the road.

  “You command men well,” said Lanmore approvingly. “Not for the first time, I'd wager.” He walked up and down the line. “We have an eight-day march to Kratis. We will do it in seven. Those who fall behind will be considered deserters. And I think you all know what happens to deserters.” He looked at Lee. “Move them out.”

  Lee turned to the recruits and shouted out the command. “On my order! Move out!”

  The line moved off with Lee in front, Captain Lanmore just behind him. The six soldiers positioned themselves three on each side of the recruits.

  “Push the pace, Barath,” said Lanmore over Lee's shoulder. “I meant what I said about making it there in seven days.”

  Lee did as he was told, speeding his pace to a near jog. By midday the recruits were panting and struggling with each step.

  “Shall we halt for a meal, sir?” asked Lee.

  “What do you think, Barath?” Lanmore replied. “Should we?”
>
  “I do, sir,” Lee replied. “If you intend for these men to maintain speed, they must also maintain strength. Twenty minutes to eat and rest still puts us in Kratis a day and a half ahead. And I would recommend a ten-minute respite every four hours.”

  “And why is that?”

  Lee straightened his shoulders. “Because, sir, most of these men will not be able to keep this up for seven days without it; unless you intend to execute half of them before we arrive.”

  “Perhaps I want to weed out the weak,” said Lanmore. “Or perhaps I simply don't care about how tired they get.” He chuckled softly. “But as is happens, I agree. The King's army would not be served if I killed off half of the men.”

  Lee was relieved. “May I ask a question, sir?”

  “You may,” said Lanmore.

  “Do you usually escort new recruits to Kratis?”

  “No,” said Lanmore, with a hint of irritation. “I've been summoned.”

  Lee knew better than to ask why. He joined Jacob and Fennio for the short meal, then moved the men out again.

  “You will no longer eat among the recruits,” said Lanmore. “You shall take your meals with us. If you wish, your nephew can join us as well.”

  “He should eat with the men,” said Lee.

  “Not wanting to show favor, I see. Or perhaps the two of you aren't close?”

  “He is my sister’s son,” said Lee. “I am bound to protect him if I can. But no, we're not close.”

  Lanmore shrugged. “It's for the best. Gives a lad a chance to make his own mark.”

  On the first night Lee set his bedroll a few feet away from the soldiers. They had put up a small tent in which Captain Lanmore would bed down, but he chose to eat and talk with them for a short while before turning in. Away to one side, Lee could hear the recruits laughing and talking and wondered how Jacob was getting on. He shook his head, quietly laughing at himself. He was thinking as if Jacob were still a boy playing with other children. Fearing that their time together would soon end, he wished he could be with him now. Lee knew his chance for success was slim, and often on their journey he’d wished he could turn Jacob away in order to keep him safe. It no longer mattered that his son had betrayed him. Lee had brought that on himself. His thoughts turned to that day with the Oracle, causing his anger to swell. How he wished he had ignored her. He should never have deserted his family.

  Once this is finished, my part is done, he swore to himself. The world can end in fire for all I care. He would take his family far from this conflict. Even if that meant living in the remote desert.

  Over the next few days, Lee kept the men moving at a near unbearable pace. Even the hardened soldiers escorting them showed signs of fatigue. They passed dozens of companies of troops marching south.

  “War comes,” said Lanmore offhandedly on one occasion as they were forced to make way for five full companies and their supply wagons. “Then we can march south and leave this icy land behind.”

  “When will it begin?” asked Lee.

  Lanmore shrugged. “Soon, I hope. I hear there are things to take care of in the west first. But those are matters for kings and diplomats.” He slapped Lee on the shoulder. “We're soldiers, you and I. Our job is to fight and die, yes?”

  “Yes, sir,” said Lee. He couldn't help but respect Captain Lanmore. He was a true leader and soldier. Ruthless and harsh, yet educated in the ways of men. Everything he did was calculated. Even the slaying of Lars had a purpose behind it. By then, rumors had been leaked about the incident – most likely at the direction of Lanmore, Lee suspected - and the recruits gave him a wide berth, accepting his orders without question.

  On the fifth day a light snow began to fall. The sky told Lee that it would soon be coming down in earnest. Normally, given how close they were to their destination, this wouldn’t be a cause for concern. But he knew that the recruits, with just a few exceptions, were ill prepared for such conditions. If a storm came, many would freeze to death. When Lee brought this to Lanmore's attention he just laughed.

  “The King hasn't allowed a blizzard for years,” said Lanmore.

  “Are you suggesting that he controls the weather?” asked Lee, feigning ignorance.

  “When you meet him, you'll understand,” Lanmore replied. “He likes to meet all of his new officers, from the grandest general to the lowliest lieutenant.”

  “That will be something,” said Lee. The thought of meeting the Dark Knight of Angrääl sent his heart racing. He hoped to be away with his wife and son long before that happened.

  “You have no idea,” said Lanmore. Lee could hear unease in his voice. “To be in his presence is no small matter. You may have seen many battles, and slain many men, but nothing can prepare you for it. The Reborn King possesses the power of the gods.” He rubbed his hands together nervously. “I felt like a naked child. To tell you the truth, I can't even remember where I was or what he looked like - just a feeling of being totally overwhelmed.”

  He cleared his throat and stiffened his back, as if catching himself in an awkward state. “In any event, you have some time to go yet before you're worthy of such an audience. Now, go tend to your duties.”

  As Captain Lanmore had said, no storm came, though the temperature dropped to a point where even marching at a double quick pace did nothing to warm the men. On the last night of the march they were all huddled so closely around the fire that several were actually singed. The only ones seemingly unaffected were Lanmore and Lee. Lee had looked in on Jacob a few times, and it became clear that his son had decided to stay close to Fennio and the other men from Daruis' guard.

  “You deal with the cold well, for a southerner,” remarked Lanmore as they took their meal.

  “I am cold, sir,” said Lee. “But there's no point in complaining. Besides, I have to set an example to the men.”

  “Quite right, Barath,” he replied. “Quite right, indeed. You'll do well here. And don't worry. We'll be south soon enough.” Lanmore alluded often to the coming war, but never once divulged anything useful. “Thanks to you we're far ahead of schedule. It's a break in protocol, but you will stay with the officers when we arrive tomorrow. I think you'll find it more pleasant than the recruit barracks.”

  “Thank you, sir,” said Lee. He stared deep into the campfire, pleased. Perhaps the officers would have information on his wife. And it would separate him from Jacob. Should things go badly, Jacob would need time to escape.

  “If you wish to speak to your nephew,” Lanmore added, “you should do so before we arrive. It's unlikely you'll see him again anytime soon. Officers and soldiers train separately.”

  “I'll do that tonight,” Lee replied.

  Lee went to seek out Jacob as soon as he’d finished his meal. He found him playing dice and passing around a small flask of brandy with several other recruits at the far end of the encampment. When they saw Lee, they all jumped to their feet and stood at attention.

  “Jasper, come with me,” Lee commanded.

  Jacob nodded and followed Lee away from the camp.

  “Did you find out where Mother is?” asked Jacob.

  Lee shook his head “Not yet. But I'll be staying in the officer’s barracks when we get to Kratis. I hope to find out more then.” He placed his hand on Jacob's shoulder. “If I'm discovered, I intend to bring all hell down upon Angrääl before I go. If that happens, you must run. Keep to the woods. Avoid towns until you are south of the Razor Edge Mountains, then make your way to the Goodbranch and take a riverboat to Sharpstone.” He handed Jacob six gold coins. “Hide these. It's enough to get you to Millet.” He saw a flash of defiance in Jacob's eyes. “There can be no debate. If things go wrong, it won't take them long to come after you. If I fail and they capture you, all is lost. You must survive.”

  “I will do as you say,” said Jacob.

  “I'm so very sorry,” said Lee, forcing back a tear. “But I'm about to hit you.”

  Jacob stepped back. “What?”

  �
�As we speak, Captain Lanmore watches. It must seem as if I don’t care about you. It will keep his attention on me.” Lee clenched his fist. “Are you ready?”

  Jacob nodded.

  Lee's fist connected with Jacob's jaw, sending him tumbling to the ground. He looked down at Jacob, using all his will power not to rush to his side. “You're on your own, boy,” he said, making sure his voice carried far enough for all to hear. He then marched back to his bedroll.

  “Didn't go as well as you hoped?” Lanmore, spoke not from amusement but from curiosity.

  “It went as expected,” said Lee. “As you said, they have to find their own way.” His heart was aching. He glanced over his shoulder to see Jacob stumbling back to camp, holding his jaw.

  Lee bedded down, trying to slow his mind. The pain of punching Jacob mingled with fears of his son being captured, making sleep impossible. At dawn, he mustered the men and had them ready to leave in short order. Every time he came close to where Jacob stood, shame washed over him. But at least hitting him seemed to have the desired effect. Twice as many recruits now ate with him during the noon respite, and Lanmore made no further mention of him at all.

  As the afternoon wore on, Lee noticed more and more buildings and houses lining the road, most of them crafted from the small gray stones common to the region. There were a few farms here and there, but the fields were barren at this time of year. Lee reckoned Angrääl imported most of its food supply up the Goodbranch from Baltria.

  An hour before dusk, six massive black spires broke the horizon and the city of Kratis came into view. Lee saw all six very clearly, even though the city walls were still five miles away. He stood in awe of the sheer scope of the city. Construction of such magnitude should have taken decades at the very least, not to mention skills thought lost to the master builders long ago. Not even the ruins of the forgotten kingdoms of old boasted buildings of such great height. The city of Kratis had indeed been the seat of power in Angrääl in the distant past, yet Lee had never imagined it as being much more than a place the size of Hazrah.

  Captain Lanmore noticed Lee staring at the towers. “We’ll not be going that far. Not just yet.”