Oathbreaker (Legend of the Gods Book 1)

by Aaron Hodges

  “What sort of gentleman would I be if I looked?” Devon laughed, his eyes glittering as he watched her approach.

  Alana snorted. “Rogue!” Gathering herself, she leapt out over his head.

  Arms raised, she slid into the water like a knife through butter. The cold engulfed her, but after the heat by the fire, it was a refreshing change. Surfacing, she swam across the pool with smooth strokes of her arms. Growing up in the lake city of Ardath, she had always loved to swim. The pool was not wide, and it wasn’t long before her hand struck the stone edge on the other side. She turned and swam back to where Devon waited.

  “You swim well,” he murmured.

  Smiling, she flicked back her head, her long hair sending water spraying across the pool. “The best,” she agreed with a grin.

  Now they were away from the fire, Alana’s eyes were adjusting to the moonlight. She saw the pool in which they floated was one of several. Their shining waters were clustered closely together, separated by thin lips of rock. The ground lifted gradually away from them, the pools forming a staircase in the rocks that lead up towards a distant line of trees.

  “What is this place?” she whispered.

  “An old iron sand mine,” Devon replied. He moved alongside her, sending water rippling outwards. “The pools formed around where they dug the sand down to the bedrock.”

  She nodded, turning her eyes on him. “How did you know it was here?”

  Devon smiled. “I know many things, princess.” He floated closer to her. “I have travelled much of the Three Nations in my twenty-three years.”

  Inexplicably, Alana’s heart beat faster as he neared. She swallowed, her throat suddenly dry. Her hands moved by memory, keeping her afloat, but as they swept out once more, they bumped into Devon’s chest. Before they could move away, his hands caught hers by the wrist. He lifted her, and she realised he was tall enough to stand above the water.

  A shudder swept through Alana as she looked into his amber eyes. They stared back at her with a burning intensity. Her lips parted, and she found herself leaning towards him, her own eyes fluttering closed.

  Alana jumped as something small and sharp struck her foot. In the same instant, Devon cursed, jerking away from her. The movement sent water splashing across the pool and crashing over the rocky lip. They glanced at each other, and then down at their feet. In the feeble light of the moon, Alana could just make out the fish circling her legs.

  She yelped again as one darted in and bit her heel. Her flesh crawled and, suppressing a scream, she struck out for the edge of the pool. In her mind she pictured the fish following her, their tiny mouths poised to strike, ready to strip the flesh from her bones, to tear her to pieces.

  Reaching the end of the pool, Alana threw out an arm and grabbed at the rocky lip. As she hauled herself up, she twisted, looking around for Devon, terrified the fish had already taken him…

  And found him still standing in the middle of the pool, a broad grin on his bearded face. His laughter boomed out through the night.

  Alana stared at him a moment, mouth agape. Before she could question him, she felt another sharp twinge in her leg, and she scrambled quickly out of the water. Sitting on the stone lip, she glared across at Devon.

  “What the hell?” she shrieked.

  Devon’s laughter trailed away as he shook his head. “They’re called Doctor Fish,” he called across to her. “They’re harmless.”

  “They don’t feel harmless!”

  He chuckled again. “They’re just eating the dead skin, princess. Don’t be such a coward!”

  Alana gritted her teeth and glared at the big man. “I am not a coward.”

  “Then come back in,” he replied with a grin. “The water’s warmer than out there!”

  At his words, a cold wind swept across the pool, raising goosebumps on Alana’s flesh. She shivered, eyeing the eerie waters, and then slowly lowered herself back in. The water was still cold, but she would brave the fish for a few minutes more, if only to prove Devon wrong.

  He swam across to her, but her glare kept him at bay. She floated there a while, her breath ragged, her body tensed with expectation.

  Her sudden movements had spooked the fish, and they took a while to return. When they did, Alana almost leapt straight back out of the pool at the first creature’s bite. But Devon was watching her, and she was determined not to show her fear. Teeth clenched, she scowled at him, seeing the laughter in his eyes. She did not so much as flinch as the next fish struck.

  Bit by bit, the fish grew bolder, until she had several of the tiny creatures nibbling at the soft flesh of her feet. The creatures continued up her legs, some biting hard and fast, others almost gently as they set about their meal.

  Biting her lip, Alana fought to keep from crying out. Several of the fish had found the sensitive flesh on the bottoms of her feet. She felt laughter bubbling up from her chest as the sensation began to tickle. Eyes watering, she looked at Devon.

  “This is weird,” she gasped.

  He nodded, face twitching, and she realised he was struggling to hold back his laughter. Snorting, Alana splashed a wave of water into his face. The suddenness of her attack sent him stumbling back. The slick rocks slipped under his feet and he vanished beneath the surface, reappearing an instant later, coughing and spluttering.

  “Idiot,” Alana said, grinning. The fish had scattered at her movement, and, swimming back to the edge, she hauled herself out. Quickly she used her clothes to towel herself down and then slipped back into them. She glanced back as Devon swam up. “You’ll pay for that, you know.”

  Devon’s eyes danced. “I look forward to it.”

  Straightening, Alana’s stomach rumbled and her eyes turned to the distant trees. A smile crossed her face.

  “Wait here,” she said. She wandered away before he had a chance to respond.

  Chapter 30

  The fire was burning low by the time Alana returned. Devon threw off the dregs of sleep and sat up. Picking up a stick, he quickly stirred the flames back to life. Adding wood, he surreptitiously studied Alana as she wandered up to the camp. Back in the pool, for half a moment it had seemed there was something between them. He recalled the thumping of blood in his ears as they drifted together, eyes locked, her skin beneath his fingers.

  Alana wore the same smile she’d left with, only now she carried the carcass of a hare in one hand. Devon raised an eyebrow in question as she tossed it down in front of him.

  “I caught it, so you get to cook,” she said with a grin.

  Unable to keep the admiration from his face, Devon wordlessly picked up the pitiful creature. Away in the darkness, crickets chirped as Alana took a seat nearby. Taking a hunting knife from his belt, he set about skinning it.

  “How did you manage to kill it?” he asked as he worked.

  “We used to hunt them in the fields around the lake when I was younger,” she said by way of an answer. When Devon only shook his head, she added. “I hit it with a stone.”

  “Impressive,” he murmured. His stomach rumbled and Alana laughed. “I never was much of a woodsman,” Devon admitted.

  “Really?” Her grey eyes studied him closely. “You always seem so…capable.”

  Devon smiled despite himself. “I’m capable in one thing only, Alana,” he murmured, touching the haft of kanker.

  The conversation trailed off, and Devon busied himself with his task. The skin removed, he gutted the little hare, then quickly set up a spit from a few thicker pieces of wood. Placing the spit with carcass attached over the fire, he stoked the flames.

  “Will it take long?” Alana asked, her eyes aglow with hunger.

  “Long enough,” Devon said, sitting back. He looked across at her, recalling her lithe frame as she dove over him into the pool. “Alana,” he said suddenly, “what will you do if Braidon has been taken?”

  She sat in silence for a long while, staring into the flames. When she finally answered, her voice was soft, distant. “I�
��ll go back and find him.”

  “They’ll kill you.” Devon said the words without judgement.

  Alana nodded. “Probably.”

  Devon shivered as he watched her. His earlier thoughts had been right; there was no give in the young woman sitting before him.

  To his surprise, he found himself speaking. “You wouldn’t be alone.” She looked up at that, her grey eyes wide, and he went on. “I’ll walk beside you.”

  Alana stared across at him, and for a second Devon thought he glimpsed tears in her eyes. She quickly looked away. “You don’t have to do that.”

  “I know,” Devon chuckled, thinking back to the fiery woman he’d met on the streets of Ardath. “Truth is, my life before was empty. I had nothing to live for, no purpose. I lost myself back in the war, and I’ve been trying to find my way ever since.”

  “And my destroying your life changed that?”

  Devon grinned. “In a way,” he replied. “Maybe it was Kellian’s words, or that woman Tillie’s, or maybe just being around you and your brother, but I feel like my old self again. Thank you for that.”

  “You’re a strange man, Devon,” Alana said. “You thank me for destroying your life, but not for saving it!”

  Laughter roared up from Devon’s chest. “Ha! I figured you owed me that one!”

  “I see!” A smile danced on Alana’s face. She edged closer, her eyes on the rabbit. Devon quickly reached out and turned it before it could burn. “How much longer, you think?” she asked.

  “Hungry critter, aren’t you?” Devon took up his dagger and sliced a cut down the rabbit. The meat beneath was beginning to darken. “Soon, princess,” he teased.

  She punched him in the arm. “Why do you keep calling me that?”

  Devon sat back and looked at her. “I have trouble remembering people’s names sometimes,” he admitted.

  “So you gave me the nickname princess?” she asked. “Do you think I’m too weak to look after myself?”

  Laughing, Devon shook his head. “The opposite,” he replied. “You’re the fiercest woman I’ve ever met.”

  “So why?”

  Devon grinned. “Because of the fire in your eyes when I say it.”

  She hit him again, but this time Devon reached out and caught her by the wrist before she could retreat. Their eyes met, and she did not pull away. He leaned towards her, his heart pounding in his ears.

  “It’s burning!” Alana said suddenly, jumping up and snatching the hare from the flames.

  Cursing inwardly, Devon helped her set it down. Fat bubbled from the roasting meat, and in a few places the flesh had blackened.

  “You aren’t much of a cook, either, you know?” Alana said, her eyes dancing.

  Devon muttered something choice under his breath. Ignoring her, he took up his knife and went to work on the hare. It was difficult with the meat still scorching hot, but from the look in Alana’s eyes, she wasn’t going to wait until it cooled.

  Silently he cut a slice of meat and offered it to Alana on the blade. She raised an eyebrow, and he grinned at her.

  “Ladies first,” Devon said.

  Alana’s lips twitched as she took the morsel from his knife. “Such a gentleman,” she said, before sinking her teeth into the chunk of hot meat.

  A dribble of juice ran down her chin as she chewed, and Devon chuckled. “I take it back,” he said. “Kellian is more of a lady than you!”

  “No one’s perfect.” Alana winked, still chewing on her mouthful.

  A comfortable silence fell across the campfire as they ate. Cutting a slice for himself, Devon sat back, savouring the rich flavour of the fresh meat. It could have used a bit of seasoning, but Kellian was the innkeeper and cook. They’d be lucky if Devon managed not to poison them with the skinny hare.

  “Why did you leave the army?” Alana asked into the silence.

  Devon froze mid-bite. He swallowed slowly and turned to look at her, finding her grey eyes on his hammer. He glanced down at kanker, its steel head glistening in the firelight. His thoughts drifted, returning to the dark days in Trola. He shuddered.

  “I didn’t like what I’d become,” he murmured.

  “A soldier?”

  “A killer,” he replied, a shadow passing across his soul. Reaching down, he hefted kanker. “A murderer. An ender of life.”

  “You fought to protect us from the Trolan invaders,” Alana replied, though when he looked at her he could see the doubt in her eyes.

  “That’s how it began,” Devon murmured, his mind distant, his thoughts on a place far away, a past long ago. “Not how it ended.”

  “You mean the conquest?” she pressed.

  Devon’s fist tightened around kanker. “It was no conquest. It was a slaughter.”

  Alana fell silent, her eyes on the fire. “It ended the war.”

  “It did,” Devon replied. “Because there was no one left to threaten the Tsar.”

  “Or our people,” Alana added.

  Silence fell again, but Devon knew it was not an end to Alana’s questions. He squeezed his eyes closed, waiting for it to come, for the question to be asked.

  “Why did you give up your hammer?” Alana whispered. “You had the Tsar’s favour, the love of the people. You could have been rich.”

  Devon sucked in a breath, gathering his courage. Only Kellian knew the truth, knew of things he’d done when the bloodlust was on him. “Because I liked it,” he whispered. He saw her eyes come up, the question on her lips, and continued before she could speak. “Because I enjoyed it. I lived for the thrill of battle, for the destruction and the slaughter, for the sight of life fading from an enemy’s eyes.”

  “You have the warrior’s spirit—” Alana began, but he cut her off.

  “I killed all who came before me. Men, yes. Women, too. Old men and boys barely out of childhood. It didn’t matter who they were, only that they stood in my way.” He paused. “I killed a child once. He ran at me with a spear, and I didn’t even think.” Reaching down, he lifted kanker and held it up before the firelight. “My ancestors wielded this hammer to defend the innocent, to protect the Three Nations from darkness. Now it’s stained by my evil. If my ancestors could see me now, they would spit at my feet.”

  Devon drew in a great, shuddering breath, and let the hammer fall. It struck the ground with a thud. Silence fell, strained and awful, but he kept his eyes fixed to the ground, terrified to look up and see the judgement on Alana’s face. But as time stretched out, he knew he could hide from his past no longer. Clenching his jaw, he forced himself to look at her.

  She stared back, lips parted, her grey eyes sad. For a moment it seemed she would speak, then her mouth closed again, her jaw tightening. She bit her lip and looked away.

  Shame swelled in Devon’s chest as he returned his gaze to the fire. He wanted to defend himself, to explain how it had been, how when the bloodlust took him he had no control. But the words would not come. In his heart, he knew what he’d done could never be forgiven. Never mind that he’d been following orders, that the Tsar had commanded all who stood against them be swept away.

  Darkness descended on the campsite as the fire burned down. Devon’s stomach was warm now, filled with the meal of half-burnt hare, but his spirit was low. Across from him, Alana sat staring off into the distance, refusing to meet his gaze.

  Silently, Devon settled himself down on the ground. His body was exhausted, refreshed by the swim, but aching from the long day’s march. He needed to sleep, but even as he closed his eyes, he knew it would not come. Letting out a sigh, he settled in for a long, cold night.

  Chapter 31

  Alana walked across the open ground in silence, her heart heavy, her thoughts far away, dreaming of a war she could hardly remember. How many men and women had marched with Devon into the mountains of Trola? How many others had stained their hands with the blood of innocents? Had they all succumbed to the same bloodlust as Devon?

  Staring at his broad back now, she realis
ed it didn’t matter. A thousand others could have admitted to the same foul deeds as the hammerman and it wouldn’t change things for her. Whatever those other soldiers had done, in the past few days she had come to see Devon as a man above others, a warrior beyond repute. From the moment he had charged the Arbor, to the day he’d faced the demon and won, he’d become a hero in her eyes.

  She heard again his words, the terrible admission that had brought her image of him crumbling down, and suppressed a moan. His past should not have mattered, not after everything he’d done to protect her and her brother; yet it did.

  Her eyes dropped to the ground as Devon checked their backtrail, and a pang of guilt touched her. She could sense the hammerman’s pain. Last night in the pool, for the briefest of moments, she had felt something growing between them, something she hadn’t dared to put into words. A warmth in her chest, a smile that came to her lips when she was in his presence.

  That feeling had died like flames in the rain. The warmth was gone, her face fixed in a frown, her eyes set on the distant fortress.

  “That’s not good.”

  Alana looked up as Devon spoke, his first words since the night before. His eyes were still studying their backtrail. Alana glanced around and swore as she saw the men emerging from the distant woods. Garbed all in black, there was no mistaking the band of Stalkers. She counted them silently as they moved into the open, settling finally on sixteen.

  “They’re a league off,” she said, swinging back to Devon.

  “Quinn must have taken a ship and followed us,” he muttered, looking from the Stalkers to Fort Fall. “They move fast, even on foot. We’ll be hard pressed to outrun them.”

  “We’d better get moving then,” Alana replied, pushing her way past him.

  She studied the fortress looming in the distance. The grey walls towered above the ocean cliffs. Sitting astride the narrow patch of land known as The Gap, it marked the border between the northern and southern continents. But with its garrison disbanded and its gates long since rotted away, the ancient fortress would offer them little protection from the Stalkers.