Blood Mercenaries Origins
Page 1
FOUR SWORD & SORCERY DARK FANTASY PREQUEL NOVELLAS
To The
BLOOD MERCENARIES SERIES
Published by
www.splickety.com
Blood Mercenaries Origins
Published by
Splickety Publishing Group, Inc.
www.splickety.com
Ebook ISBN: 978-1-942462-33-0
Print ISBN: 978-1-942462-34-7
Copyright © 2019 by Ben Wolf, Inc. All rights reserved.
www.benwolf.com
Cover design by Kirk DouPonce of DogEared Design
www.dogeareddesign.com
Available in print and ebook format on amazon.com.
Contact Ben Wolf directly at ben@benwolf.com for signed copies
and to schedule author appearances and speaking events.
All rights reserved. Non-commercial interests may reproduce portions of this book without the express written permission of the author, provided the text does not exceed 500 words. For longer quotations or commercial concerns, please contact the author via email at ben@benwolf.com.
Commercial interests: No part of this publication may be reproduced in any form, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form by any means—electronic, photocopy, recording, or otherwise—without prior written permission of the author, except as provided by the United States of America copyright law.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, and incidents are all products of the author’s imagination and are used for fictional purposes. Any mentioned brand names, places, and trademarks remain the property of their respective owners, bear no association with the author or the publisher, and are used for fictional purposes only. Any similarities to individuals living or dead is purely coincidental.
Printed in the United States of America.
This book is dedicated to Kirk DouPonce,
the world’s greatest (and most patient) cover artist.
You are the real legend.
Contents
Map of Aletia
Ironglade: Book One
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Etheridge: Book Two
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Requiem: Book Three
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Shatterstone: Book Four
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Chapter One
The heavy bronze doors slammed shut in Aeron Ironglade’s face, ending his sixteen-year career with the Govalian Army and locking his best friend inside.
He shifted his footing, and a small pouch of gold and silver coins stamped with the emperor’s head jingled on his hip, half the amount it should’ve been.
“Goodbye, Wafer,” he muttered and rubbed his aching back. “It’s been real.”
He started down the path toward Govaliston, the capital city of the realm of Govalia, but his bond with Wafer, the wyvern mount he’d raised from birth, thrummed in his chest. He stopped and turned back.
The high fortress walls loomed above him, mocking his failure and keeping him separated from his mount.
“I’ll see you again, buddy. I promise I’ll find a way to get you back.”
As he walked away from the fortress, the bond dulled and dulled until he felt nothing but remorse and sadness. With each successive step, his anxiety burgeoned, and he wanted to turn back, but instead he kept walking.
Even if he had turned back, it wouldn’t have mattered.
Aeron’s journey back to Govaliston led him through rolling green hills marked with sporadic trees. He soon reached the town of Dreynoth, the nearest settlement to the fortress and a regular haunt for members of the Govalian Army due to its proximity.
Normally, Aeron could make the trip in three minutes or less thanks to Wafer’s wings. But today, his boots had gotten him there in about fifteen minutes, and already his lower back pain had reignited.
He rubbed it as he walked into the town and past a stable for horses, a pub, and a brothel—all of which catered specifically to soldiers. The idea of a drink and a rubdown sounded great, but Aeron needed something stronger. Something he’d grown accustomed to over the last few months since he’d sustained his injury.
And the local apothecary shop undoubtedly had what he needed. They always did.
A handful of people bustled through the town’s dusty streets, but at midday in the middle of the week, most were tending to their shops and businesses in preparation for the nightly influx of off-duty soldiers and the even larger weekend crowds.
Aeron sighed. He’d miss the camaraderie he’d shared with some of his unit. It bothered him to know he’d never be a part of that world again, but the lack of a connection to Wafer grated on him even more. He felt empty, powerless, and alone.
And he was.
“Come down from there!” a tiny voice chirped to his left.
Aeron turned and saw a little girl staring up at one of the few trees in the town square. Her hair color ranged somewhere between blonde and light brown, and she was probably seven or eight years old.
In the tree above her, among the branches of orange leaves preparing to drop for the winter, sat a fluffy, white cat.
“I said come down!” the girl repeated. She glanced around at some of the people walking by, but none of them moved to help her.
Aeron shook his head. That cat is not gonna come down on its own.
Then the girl’s blue eyes locked onto his. “‘scuse me, mister?”
Aeron cursed to himself. He never should’ve made eye contact.
“You’re a soldier, right?” she asked.
Not anymore, kid. He waved at her. “Sorry. I’m—”
“Can you please help me get my cat out of the tree? He’s not allowed to be up there.” When Aeron didn’t stop walking, the girl said, “Aren’t soldiers supposed to help us?”
Aeron hesitated, and his steps stalled. He may not have been a soldier anymore, but that wasn’t any real excuse not to help. Then the pain in his back flared and deepened as he stopped walking. That was a reason not to get involved.
He started rubbing the spot in his lower back again. “Look, kid… I’m—”
“Everlee. That’s my name,” the girl said as she started toward him.
“Everlee,” Aeron corrected himself. He held up his hands. “I’m on my way to the apothecary to buy some—”
“It’ll just take a second. I’m not tall enough to reach him.” She took hold of one of his hands and started tugging on it. She repeated, “It’ll just take a second.”
Aeron exhaled a sharp breath. He knew where this kid was coming from—all too well. She clearly cared for the cat. She ached for it just like he ached from being away from Wafer.
As far as he knew, humans couldn’t form the kind of bond with any other animal that he’d attained with Wafer, but it didn’t mean Everlee loved the cat any less. This cat was probably her best friend, and this tree had unfairly separated them.
So how could he refuse? He may not be a soldier anymore, but he could still be a decent person.
“Alright,” he said. “Fine.”
The tree had no branches low enough for Everlee to reach so she could climb up after the cat, and even if she could have gotten up there, getting down with a big ball of fur in her small arms would be risky, if not outright dangerous. And fortunately for Aeron, the cat was on a branch low enough that Aeron could just reach up and grab him.
But as he raised his arms to take hold of the cat, the pain in his back spasmed, and he yelped.
The cat issued a low growl, and it darted along the branch and jumped onto an even higher branch.
Everlee gasped. “What happened? Why did you do that?”
“Sorry.” Aeron rubbed his back with both hands. “My back. It’s—”
“You scared him!”
“I didn’t mean to,” Aeron said.
Tears pooled in the corners of Everlee’s eyes, and she whimpered. “Now how will I get him down?”
Where are this kid’s parents? Aeron crouched in front of her and cupped her shoulders. “It’s alright, kid—Everlee. I’ll go up there and grab him. It’s alright.”
She nodded and sniffed. “Alright.”
Aeron stood and faced the tree, which loomed even taller over him now that he had to consider the whole thing instead of just its lowest branch. He muttered, “What did I just agree to?”
If he’d had Wafer with him, he could’ve climbed onto Wafer’s back and had Wafer lift him up. It might’ve scared the cat to death to see a gigantic, reptilian predator like Wafer peering up at him through the leaves, but at least Aeron wouldn’t have had to climb.
But he didn’t have Wafer now. He had to make do with his own strength and ability.
He quickly stretched out his back and his arms, trying to relieve some of the pain. Then he jumped, grabbed the lowest branch, and hauled himself into the tree.
Aeron immediately realized what a terrible mistake he’d made. His back pain dug into his nerves, scraping against them and agonizing his every movement. He never should’ve volunteered in the first place.
But now he was committed, and if he let go, he’d fall and hurt himself even worse. So he worked his way to a sitting position on the branch and took a few deep breaths to try to calm his rebelling muscles.
Gods… how many trees did I climb as a kid? And now I can barely get into this one? Getting old sucks.
The cat lay on a branch above him, staring down at him with blue eyes the color of Everlee’s. Its paws hung over the branch as if it were a rag someone had tossed into the tree, and it mewed at him.
“I’m coming,” Aeron grumbled to it. “Don’t move. And don’t you dare go any higher.”
All he’d wanted to do was get something for his pain and get back to his parents’ house in Govaliston. Tomorrow he’d start his new life doing… whatever. One thing was for sure—he had no intention of rescuing cats for a living.
He wove his thin body between the branches, resisting and ignoring the pain in his back until he finally managed to reach the cat. It mewed at him again and nipped at his hand.
“Hey!” Aeron snapped. “Cut that out. I’m trying to help you.”
“No biting, Cracker!” Everlee called from below.
Cracker? The cat’s name was Cracker? And he had a wyvern named Wafer? Aeron shook his head. Weird coincidence.
He managed to get Cracker by the scruff of his neck, and Aeron gently pulled him off the branch. Cracker loosed another low growl, and he squirmed a bit, flailing four paws tipped with sharp claws all around, but Aeron maintained control and slowly lowered him through the branches.
“You can drop him,” Everlee said. “Cats land on their feet!”
“Yeah,” Aeron grunted, “but I don’t want to drop him from too high up.”
He repositioned himself on the lowest branch, took hold of another branch with his free hand, and carefully lowered the cat low enough that Everlee could’ve caught him if she’d wanted to, but she wisely stayed back.
“Good?” Aeron wheezed.
“Yes!” Everlee bounced on her toes.
Aeron dropped Cracker, and he landed firmly on his feet. Then he promptly leaped into Everlee’s outstretched arms and nuzzled her chin with his forehead.
Despite his aching back, Aeron smiled. He knew that feeling—the sensation of a long-awaited reunion with a close friend. He envied Everlee in that moment, and he resolved anew that he would get Wafer out of the fortress someday, even if it meant—
SNAP.
The branch Aeron had been holding broke, and he slipped from the tree and fell. At the last second, he reached out for the branch he’d been sitting on and grabbed hold of it, straightening out his fall, but racking his back in the process.
He somehow managed to land on his feet, but he immediately staggered back against the tree trunk and leaned on it for support. He exhaled labored breaths and clutched at his miserable back. His eyes clenched shut from the overwhelming pain.
Aeron finally opened his eyes to the sound of giggles. There before him, Everlee was spinning in a circle with her arms outstretched and with Cracker in her hands.
Now he understood why the cat had jumped into the tree.
Everlee’s spins stopped, and she wobble-walked toward Aeron with Cracker clutched to her chest. Breathless, she said, “Thank you so much!”
“My pleasure,” Aeron lied. He groped at his back and winced as he dug his knuckles into his own flesh.
“What’s wrong with you?” Everlee asked.
“My back is… messed up.”
“What happened to it?”
Aeron closed his eyes again. He really didn’t want to have to recount the whole story to an eight-year-old kid whom he’d likely never see again. He summarized, “A friend of mine was in trouble. I saved her.”
“Her?” Everlee asked. “What’s her name?”
“Faylen.” Now she was something Aeron didn’t mind recalling. He smirked at the thought of her bright blonde hair and her slightly pointed ears, then his pain pulled him back into the present. “Anyway, I’m going to get something for the pain from the apothecary here in town. Glad your cat is safe.”
“The apothecary? Why didn’t you say so?” Everlee grinned at him. “He’s my papa!”
In spite of his pain, Aeron smiled. Finally some good news today.
Aeron left Dreynoth behind, along with a happy Everlee, a grateful apothecary, and a cat named Cracker.
He’d managed to purchase a sack of magic mushrooms from the apothecary for only five coins, a significant discount over what he would’ve otherwise paid for them. It was the apothecary’s way of thanking Aeron for saving Cracker from the tree.
One yellow-spotted shroom, glowing blue from the magic infused into it, had deadened most of his pain and enabled him to keep walking toward Govaliston, but he’d limited himself to just one for the time being. He didn’t know when he’d be able to buy more, so he wanted to ration them.
An hour later, Aeron reached the outskirts of Govaliston. He made his way through the city, passing ramshackle homes and fine stone residences alike as he headed to the only home he’d ever known outside of the fortress.
Soon after, he stood before his parents’ house. It looked the same as when he’d left, only sixteen years worse. Graying, worn-out pine boards made up its two-story exterior, secured with sturdy iron nails and brackets. A pair of windows hung open on the second floor, facing the street.
The front door looked newer, though—probably a rece
nt addition from within the last five years. It didn’t look as wretched as the rest of the house, and it still retained a hint of its original pine color.
Aeron exhaled a long breath. That house held a lot of memories for him, most of them sour. He looked down at his bag of shrooms and abandoned his rationing plans entirely. “There’s no way I’m doing this sober.”
He dug his hand into his bag.
“What do you mean, you were discharged?” Pa folded his arms.
Aeron shifted on the chair at their kitchen table, thankful the shrooms had started to relieve his back pain. They’d also cast his vision in an orange hue and made his body feel nearly weightless—a happy state to counter his father’s grating interrogation.
Pa pressed his weathered palms flat on the oak table separating them and leaned closer. “I asked you a question, boy.”
Aeron scoffed. Boy? I’m not a boy anymore.
A pinwheel of fiery colors ignited the gray wall behind his father, and Aeron cracked a smile. His anxiety had faded, virtually nonexistent thanks to the shrooms’ effects.