Blood Mercenaries Origins
Page 45
There, Garrick saw Phesnos sitting atop an orange wyvern with purple striping. Phesnos’s arms were curled around the rider’s waist.
Even in the early morning light, Garrick could make out the rider’s forest green armor, typical of the Govalian Army and its wyvern knights. Short hair, so blonde it was nearly white, poked out from under her matching green helmet.
Beyond them, a second wyvern, this one green, dove off the edge and into the valley. Garrick caught a glimpse of a hairy form on its back clinging to the wyvern knight, who also wore forest green armor.
Before Garrick could react, the purple and orange wyvern leaped off the edge as well and glided after the green wyvern, leaving him alone at the edge of the clearing.
He was too late.
Twelve days later
Garrick’s legs begged for mercy, but he kept trudging through the snow. He had to get back to Lord Valdis and explain what had happened at all costs.
In the distance, he saw the cratered mountain looming, and before long, his legs carried him into a small village that lay in a valley between the mountains. There, he found a host of brown faces, each of them rugged and worn, each of them tinged with dismay of some sort.
Garrick arrived about midday and decided to press onward, past the village’s wooden buildings and through its cobblestone streets. It was too early to stop for the night, and he wanted to get back to Lord Valdis sooner rather than later. The anticipation of that meeting was driving Garrick insane.
As he ventured through the village, he noticed a small blonde-headed girl with fair skin playing in the snow in front of one of the houses. She stuck out, being the only white face in a town of brown-skinned people with dark hair.
Her blue eyes locked onto him for just a moment. She smiled at him and kept playing in the snow. Garrick neither smiled back nor gave her a second thought.
Instead, the forest green armor of the wyvern knights assaulted his mind. He’d thought of almost nothing else as he made his trip back to Xenthan.
Why were Govalian wyvern knights providing aid and transportation to Noraff and Phesnos, a couple of no-name mercenaries, all the way up in Etrijan? It made no sense whatsoever. Did Noraff work for someone in Govalia’s government? Was he working on behalf of the Govalian Army itself?
Try as he may, Garrick couldn’t put it together. So his thoughts returned to self-deprecation as he chided himself for the thousandth time for allowing the betrayal to happen in the first place. There were so many ways he could’ve prevented it, so many opportunities to shut it down before it even started.
The more he dwelled on those thoughts, the angrier he got, and the more furiously he plowed through the snow. So he let the thoughts flow, let them sear hard lessons into his very core, and let them fuel his journey back to Valdis Keep.
Once he got east of the cratered mountain, he’d be in Xenthan, where he’d have to face the true consequences of his failure before Lord Valdis. He wasn’t looking forward to it, but it had to be done.
So Garrick kept walking.
Several days later
Valdis Keep loomed overhead, tall, black, and imposing, its spires scraping Xenthan’s perpetually crimson skies. Warm, yellow light burned from some of its windows and through some of the embrasures along its battlements.
Except for a few small buildings in a meager surrounding village, the keep stood alone among a vast wasteland of dark rocks and gray sand, both of which contributed to Xenthan’s unofficial moniker, “The Black Realm.” A light coating of snow softened the terrain’s appearance, but not by much.
Valdis Keep wasn’t inviting, but Garrick had to venture inside nonetheless.
As Garrick approached, he touched the space where he’d lost the tooth in the fight with the duotaur. The tooth had only partially grown back. A bit more time, and he’d be chewing on that side of his mouth normally again.
The soldiers at the keep’s front gates stopped Garrick until he lowered his hood. Upon recognizing him, they waved him through.
“Where’re your friends?” one of them asked as Garrick crossed into the keep’s sprawling courtyard. “Weren’t there three of you when you left?”
Garrick stopped, turned his head, and looked down at the soldier. Lord Valdis’s sigil of a three-horned ram decorated the soldier’s black breastplate. The piece looked brand new, along with the rest of his armor.
For all Garrick knew, this man had never left the keep. He’d never journeyed anywhere, never ventured outside of Xenthan. He’d never scratched his armor, never sloshed through mud made of earth and blood, never drawn his sword on a foe holding a real weapon rather than a practice blade.
After his miserable failure back at the dungeon and the long, frigid journey home, Garrick wanted to snap the soldier’s neck right then and there for his ignorance, but he didn’t. Instead, he continued walking across the courtyard.
“What’s wrong with him?” he heard the soldier ask from behind him.
Garrick paid it no mind and entered Valdis Keep.
Gray floors and walls lined the halls as Garrick made his way through the keep. Torches lit his way under ornate, pointed archways, and stone gargoyles—none of them alive, as far as Garrick knew—perched high above him, watching every room and every hallway with obsidian eyes.
When Garrick finally reached the black double doors that led to Lord Valdis’s throne room, he stopped short. He needed to calm his hammering heartbeat first.
You can do this, he told himself. Just get through it. If he kills you, then so be it, but if not, work to re-earn his trust.
Garrick had never heard of Lord Valdis offering anyone a second chance. He was known for his ruthlessness above all else, but Garrick couldn’t focus on that now. All he could do was own up to his mistakes, tell the truth about what happened, and pray to the gods for mercy.
He nodded to the soldiers posted on either side of the doors. They pulled the doors open, and Garrick stepped inside to meet his fate head-on.
Want more Blood Mercs adventures?
Aeron, Kent, Mehta, and Garrick are back in action in The Crimson Flame,
Book 1 of the Blood Mercenaries series, available now on Amazon.com!
Don’t delay—get your copy now.
Then check out the rest of the series as well!
Stay current on all the Blood Mercenaries’ adventures!
Sign up for my email list at www.subscribepage.com/fantasy-readers.
If you enjoyed this book, please leave a review on Amazon.
Want to chat about my stories? Send your feedback to ben@benwolf.com.
Lastly, join the Ben Wolf Pack! www.facebook.com/groups/benwolfpack.
Above all else, THANK YOU for reading!
Acknowledgements
Every published book is the culmination of a lot of hard work, dedication, and support. The author writes the book, but everything that comes after is equally as essential to the success of the book.
First of all, thank YOU for reading this book. I had a blast putting it together, but it was by no means a solo effort.
Second, thanks to my parents for believing in me from an early age and for helping to support my dreams and my growth. I love you both.
Thank you to Jesus Christ for changing my life (and the world) forever.
Thanks to my all-star beta readers, Daniel Kuhnley and Paige Guido, for your excellent feedback, encouragement, and for having my back.
Thanks also to my mastermind group. It’s a secret group, but you all know who you are. (insert evil laugh)
Kirk DouPonce, you are a brilliant artist. The covers for this series are phenomenal. Thank you for your long-suffering patience with me throughout the process.
Will Wight, you continue to bless me with your time and feedback, and you’ve been far better to me than I deserve. I really appreciate the time you’ve invested in me, and I’m honored to be your friend.
Dirty Mike Hueser and the BJJ boys, thanks for keeping me frosty.
And thank you to all of my readers! Without you, I wouldn’t be doing this.
Last of all, thank you especially to my intelligent, beautiful, thoughtful, and ultra-supportive wife, Charis Crowe. Your flexibility with my weird writing schedule for this series made all the difference in me getting everything done.
I love you.
About Ben Wolf
In 7th grade, I saw the movie "Congo." It was so bad, I wrote a parody of it set in Australia that featured killer kangaroos. So began my writing career.
I endeavor to produce stories that question the boundaries of morality, faith, justice, and interpersonal relationships. And I do it with action, explosions, gunshots, sword-fights, battles, and lots of fun.
I’ve spoken at 40+ writers conferences and multiple comic cons nationwide. When not writing, I occasionally choke people in Brazilian jiujitsu. I live in the midwest with my gorgeous wife, our kids, and our cat, Marco.
Did you enjoy this story? Check out my other books on Amazon.com:
If you enjoyed this book and want updates on future projects, join my author email newsletter for occasional updates on forthcoming stories. Sign up now!
www.subscribepage.com/fantasy-readers
Want to connect with me directly? Find me on Social Media!