Whom The Gods Love

by M. M. Perry

  “He looks like a northern seafarer, maybe from Braldashad. They are renowned for their combat skills,” the king said eyeing the man. “I hate to admit it, but you have a good eye old woman.”

  The king made his way through the pub towards the warrior, trying his best to appear at home in this unfamiliar setting.

  “Braldashad, eh?” the old woman said as she shuffled along behind the king, “I've heard they are supposed to be quite passionate. Need to be with all that ice and cold. I think I'm liking this one more and more.”

  The king tried to suppress the images that popped into his brain on hearing the old woman’s comments, but with little effect. He grimaced and wondered again if perhaps his court seer wasn’t having one over on him.

  “Nat!” the old woman said quickly, “Keep up, boy. You don’t want to get stepped on in here.”

  Nat was still just inside the entrance, looking around at all the warriors, his mouth agape. He had never seen so many swords in all his life. Nat watched as the men laughed and slapped each other on the back. They all seemed to be friends in the pub, no matter how different they all looked, or smelled for that matter. Nat wrinkled his nose a little at the scent of so many people and so much ale. After a second sniff, he found he enjoyed it; it smelled like living to him.

  The king continued moving through the crowd toward the Braldashad. When he got within arm’s reach of the huge man, he looked up and smiled weakly. The man was staring intently at something across the room, and hadn’t seemed to notice the king fidgeting in front of him.

  “I'm... looking to hire a warrior… to uh… to help me. I need to get to...” the king paused for a moment, and then all in a rush blurted, “the temple of Oshia.”

  The king hoped the man would not laugh in his face.

  The Braldashad finally took notice of the king, and looked him over for a few seconds.

  “And who are you?” he asked, his voice thickly accented, confirming the king’s suspicion that he was Braldashadian.

  “You can call me Callan. I have... I can pay you,” King Callan said, about to suggest an amount before remembering what the old woman had said.

  “And these? They are your... traveling companions?” the large man gestured to Nat and Inez.

  “You can call me Inez, and we aren't together like that, if you know what I mean.”

  The old woman winked at the huge man.

  Callan rubbed his chin, biting back an urge to tell the old woman off. The huge warrior looked down at Inez for a few moments. Then a grin spread across his face and he started laughing heartily.

  “That is very good indeed. It would be a shame to undertake a voyage as far away as the temple of Oshia with no hope of bedding a temptress such as yourself,” the colossal man said good-naturedly.

  Callan was shocked to see the old woman blush a little. He turned back to the huge man, who was still smiling.

  “Ah, yes, well then. Now that we’ve gotten that out of the way. What say you? Will you help me?” Callan asked, trying to sound confident rather than pleading.

  “The temple of Oshia. This is not an easy thing you ask,” the Braldashad said looking down at Callan, his smile fading and his mood turning suddenly serious.

  He seemed to be giving the proposition some serious thought. Then, as if a candle had been lit behind his eyes, he brightened. He looked back across the room, to the area he had been watching so intently before Callan had approached. A sly little smile played across his lips.

  “I would do it, but only if you also hired the help of another. There is only one warrior here I would trust to get us there alive,” the great man said.

  “Well, I have no trouble hiring two, or more even, if that is what is needed. Who is this other warrior? I would be glad to ask him to join us,” Callan said, looking in the same direction as the Braldashadian, scanning the warriors in that corner of the room for a likely candidate.

  The huge man pointed in the direction he was staring at, the strange little smile still on his face.

  “There, in the corner. The one who’s talking.”

  He was pointing at a boisterous knot of warriors that crammed one of the tables impossibly densely, an overflow crowd circling them and partially obscuring Callan’s view of the table. They were all listening intently to someone sitting at the table, who was gesturing wildly and knocking over several empty pints as Callan looked. Every now and then the group broke out into raucous laughter at whatever it was the warrior was telling them. Callan couldn't make out many details about the warrior, the crowd never parting long enough for him to get a good look, but he did note the figure didn’t seem particularly large.

  Well, size isn’t everything, I suppose, Callan thought as he straightened his tunic, and if this huge Braldashad man will join us so long as we have this warrior in tow, well then I suppose we'll have all the muscle we need.

  “I will see about employing him as well,” Callan said as he moved toward the warrior, Inez and Nat following close behind.

  “I don't know about this,” Inez said bitterly, “Why do we need another? The big, handsome, blonde should be more than enough.”

  “What's the matter with you, old woman? I should think you would enjoy the attentions of another man on this journey. Is this one not handsome enough for your tastes?” Callan said sarcastically.

  “No. This one is not male enough,” Inez said shortly.

  “What?” Callan said as they came closer to the entranced warriors who were now laughing again.

  Then he saw what the old woman had been talking about. As Callan got closer to the warrior, he saw that indeed, he was a she.

  She was smiling, her teeth bright and straight. She took a full pint of ale and drained it in one go, drawing her hand across her mouth and whipping the froth to the floor. As the serving wench stopped to pick up an armful of empty pints from the table, the female warrior slapped the wench on her rump and shouted, “another round for me and the lads would you, dear?”

  Callan was surprised to see the wench giggle and blush before she ran off to get more ale. He turned his gaze back to the warrior who, thirst momentarily slaked, had returned to her story. He scanned the imposing looking men who made up her rapt audience and decided against interrupting her. Instead, he slipped into a small gap opposite the storyteller where he hoped to catch her eye.

  “Then what’d the ogre do, Cass?” one of the burly looking warriors asked. Before answering, the woman leaned back in her chair and put her heavy boots up on the table. She gave Callan the briefest cursory glance, and then turned her gaze toward the corner of the room where the Braldashad man was still leaning against the wall.

  After a moment, she turned back to her audience. Callan smiled at her and held up his coin purse, as subtly as one could do such a thing.

  “I'm sorry boys, but that will have to wait for another time. Enjoy your ale, men, and remember, when the dragon has you by the balls, don't try to run away!” she said boisterously.

  They all laughed as the group began to break up and move away from her table. A few of them looked Callan up and down first, many of them in obvious contempt.

  “You've a certain look about you. A man in need I take it?” she asked, still leaning back in her chair, feet on the table.

  “Coin purse gave it away?” Callan asked, a note of sarcasm creeping into his voice.

  He regretted the words almost as soon as they came out of his mouth. He needed to hire the woman, and insulting her wasn’t likely to help. But to his surprise, she responded with a short bark of laughter.

  “Oh, that certainly helped. But even a man with as big a coin purse as yours doesn’t readily break up a party like that. The men don’t like having their stories interrupted you see,” Cass said winking at him as she took another swig of her ale.

  Callan took a moment to appraise the warrior as he moved to take a seat near her. Inez chose to stand between the two of them, rather than sitting. The warrior looked tall, for a woman, but
it was hard to tell with her sitting. Her armor was sparse, but thick. A long, slender sword was carefully leaned up against the table next to her, within quick reach. She was certainly not frail. Where her bare skin was visible under her armor, he could see that her muscles were taught and, he was somewhat ashamed to see, more impressive than his own. Her hair was dark blond, and fell just past her shoulders. She had the sides tucked behind her ears. Her right ear was tattooed with a blue design he did not recognize. Her eyes were a gray that seemed made up more of smoke than of color. She was neither young, nor old. Callan guessed she was near thirty, perhaps a little over. Overall, Callan would have said she was not unpleasant to look at, and in a pub full mostly of men, she was sure to get a lot of attention. But she was no great beauty, either.

  “Yes. I need some help. I need to get to the temple of Oshia. That warrior back there,” Callan pointed back to the Braldashad warrior in the corner of the pub who was staring at them, “well, he said you would be the only one he would trust to get us there alive. He has agreed to join us only if I can hire you as well.”

  “Did he now?” the female warrior said looking at the Braldashad, “Too shy to even let me buy him a drink, yet he sends you to me with this request? How very interesting.”

  “Perhaps he only respects you for your skill, and his interests in female companionship lie elsewhere,” Inez said snarkily as she patted her hair and winked at the Braldashad, “with someone more deserving of his amorous attentions.”

  The warrior looked Inez over for a moment before slapping her on the back heartily. Inez stumbled forward a bit at the gesture.

  “You may be right. I don't think I could ever compete with such a rare beauty as yourself. I had noticed he hasn't been able to keep his eyes off you ever since you entered this fine establishment,” she said seriously.

  Inez smiled a little uneasily. For some reason this warrior woman unnerved her. Had anyone else given her such a compliment, backhanded or otherwise, she would have grinned like an alligator. Something about this woman, though, gave her pause.

  “I think I might grow to like you,” Inez said trying her best to hide her discomfort. She was unused to the feeling and the last thing she wanted was to seem weak in front of the warrior woman.

  The woman smiled.

  “That makes me glad, for I sense great wisdom in you. A fitting match, such a wise woman, for a king,” the woman said. She snatched up the pint of ale the serving girl had just deposited at their table.

  Callan's mouth dropped open. This woman had guessed he was a king in less than five minutes. He had been so careful to hide his identity. It was vital no one recognize him, knowing how much trouble his undertaking this quest was bound to make.

  “How did you... are you from Faylendar?”

  “Nope, born and raised in the plains here. At least I think I was born here. Selina, the woman who raised me, found me at the base of Timta. She thought I had been placed there as an offering to the gods. She could tell I was only a few days old, and Timta being in the middle of the plains, well, she figured I must be the babe of one of the serving women from the tavern. Perhaps my mother is even still here, among them. But, I’ve never really tried to find out. Selina was all the parent I ever needed,” the woman said.

  “Then how did you...” Callan started to ask.

  “I have dealt with enough kings to know when one comes calling. Lucky for you most of these gentlemen,” she made a sweeping gesture that encompassed the entire pub, “have never even seen a royal before, let alone worked for a king. Don't worry, your secret is safe with me. If any of these men knew, you would barely have made it through the door before being overwhelmed with twenty competing offers to take you to your temple. Some may have even offered to carry you there on their own backs. But your Braldashad is right. You do need me,” she said putting down her empty mug.

  “My name is Cassandra, but call me Cass, if you will. It's easier to shout out when you’re trapped in the clutches of a giant venomous spider.”

  “Giant venomous... will there be many of those on the way to the temple?” Callan asked, a lump forming in his throat.

  Cass looked up at him and smiled broadly, “Only for the first hundred miles or so, then they thin out to make way for the crawlers... now those are a nasty bunch of creatures.”

  “Crawlers? I've heard of those I think,” Nat said excitedly. “They are giant worms that pray on sleeping travelers? I've heard a group of crawlers can take out an entire camp of men in one night, no one waking while their companions are sucked into the soil right next to them. I'm Nat by the way, and this is my Auntie Inez. We're helping King Callan get to the temple.”

  “Are you then?” Cass asked, amused by Nat's enthusiasm. “You must be lucky enough to spend most of your days adventuring then, for I haven't seen you around the pub here much.”

  “No,” Nat said, blushing, “I haven't ever been out of the city. But Auntie says if I am to be a great warrior, I need to come with her. So here I am!”

  “Hmmm,” Cass said looking at Inez as something unspoken passed between them, “Well, it's a good thing she did bring you along, because I can honestly say we won't be able to get to the temple without you.”

  Nat blushed again and laughed.

  “I'm not even a man yet, at least that's what mother keeps telling me. I don't know what I will be able to do, but I will try my best.”

  “Good lad!” Cass said, abruptly pulling her boots off the table and standing all in one fluid motion.

  Callan watched her stand, and stand, and stand some more. She must be six feet tall, he was sure of it.

  “Now then, good King Callan, why is it you want to go to the temple?” Cass asked.

  “Must you know? Isn’t my gold reason enough for you,” Callan asked.

  “Many people seek the temple for many different reasons. I would not accompany most of them,” Cass said in a very serious tone.

  “I was told by a seer... that it was the only way to save my wife,” Callan said softly. He didn’t want to divulge any more than he had to. This woman had already guessed too much for his comfort.

  Cass crossed her arms and scowled down at Callan for moment, searching his face for any signs of dissemblance. She measured his words and decided they rang with sincerity. She saw him touch something under his tunic unconsciously and she made up her mind.

  “Well then, I suppose I had better get a good night's sleep, as should you all. There are some rooms still available, I believe. Tell the owner you’re with me, and he'll let you stay. We'll head out first thing in the morning.”

  Cass stretched her arms high over her head, yawning as she said, “and you may want to tell your Braldashad over there that his nefarious scheme worked. I will find you in the morning.”

  Callan watched Cass walk away before he turned to Inez.

  “Does this seem right to you? I mean, you said the right warrior would find us. Does she seem like the right one? She seems... I don't know, but she isn't what I expected. And she didn’t ask for any gold at all.”

  Inez rubbed her wrinkled cheek, considering what she’d seen and heard tonight. She watched Nat sneak a drink of ale from one of the half-full mugs on the table.

  “She knows how to get to the temple, I'm sure of that. As to whether or not she’s the right one... well… She could be a bit uglier if you asked me, but otherwise she seems fine.”

  Chapter 2

  Callan woke up to a surprisingly pleasant smell. He dressed and went down to the mostly empty pub to discover a deserted table with a breakfast spread of eggs, bacon, potatoes and sausages. He wondered where all the warriors went when they weren't at the pub. He sat down and filled a plate, eagerly tucking into his meal. After a few minutes Inez and Nat joined him. Cass and the quiet Braldashad man still hadn’t arrived by the time they were finished eating, and Callan began to get a little worried.

  When the pub’s owner stopped by their table to clear their plates Callan asked if he h
ad seen the two warriors.

  “They were up at the break of dawn. All the warriors here are like that, up with the sun no matter how late they were drinkin' ale and tellin' jokes. They hunt for us. Bring us the meat we use to feed them every night. They’ll likely be finishin’ up about now,” the portly owner said.

  Callan hoped this was so. No coin had changed hands last night. When Callan had told the Braldashadian man that Cass had agreed to take them to the temple, he’d attempted to establish the rate then—but the Braldashadian had refused payment, saying a true warrior was only paid when the job was finished. Then he left them to go to bed. Callan still didn’t even know the man's name.

  As if he could overhear Callan’s thoughts, the Braldashad entered the pub just then, his face flushed. Callan sighed in relief. The Braldashadian stomped over to the table and loaded up a plate with so much food Callan was surprised that none of it fell off.

  “I never got your name,” Callan said, trying to strike up a conversation with the Braldashad.

  The huge man paused just long enough between mouthfuls to reply, “You may call me Gunnarr.”

  “Very good. I am Callan, and this is Inez and Nat. I'm glad that you’ve decided to help me.”

  Callan grabbed one of the unclaimed tankards from the table and was in the midst of swallowing a large gulp from the cup, only to choke a little as he realized it was filled with ale, and not the water he’d expected.

  “Do you drink ale with every meal?”

  “Only the good meals,” Gunnarr said, and then drained his cup.

  Just then Cass came in. She was singing at the top of her lungs, “And the lasses they frowned when they saw her, they told tales of her being a tart, they claimed that the lads they all kissed her, and not just on the obvious parts!”

  Gunnarr leaned forward and studied his plate, blushing a little. Callan found the sight of the huge warrior with so much pink on his cheeks comical, but he wisely kept himself from laughing.