War Aeternus 3: The Culling

by Charles Dean

  Trying to prevent a repeat, he had the rest of the paladins lock their windows and bar them up with furniture just in case before they went to sleep. Dave just shrugged off the suggestion, mumbling something about how ‘falling for a woman’ was like dying anyway, so he might as well give it a shot if ‘that harpy hag wants a go at me,’ but Pelham blocked up his window for him anyway.

  -----

  Lee reluctantly crawled out of bed the next morning and then headed downstairs without much ado. Ling seemed to think he was doing better, or so he assumed based on the fact that she slept in her own room and not by his door this time, but she still took forever to wake up. The master bedroom of the manor was so opulent and decadent compared to the place at Ramon’s that he was half-tempted to come up with an excuse to stay an extra day, work some on the orchestrion and level up his skills more since he was making good time with all the things that mattered.

  That temptation faded, however, when he saw who was waiting for him as soon as he came downstairs. He was greeted by Brigid and ten of her soldiers, all dressed in what looked like the most elite plate armor Lee had ever seen. They were all standing motionless behind her in two rows, one row on each of her sides.

  “Sir,” a paladin said as he saw Lee come down. “A ‘Brigid of Kildare’ to see you. She has been awaiting your presence for nearly an hour. She hasn’t moved.”

  Lee unconsciously looked over at the golem he had tailing her as soon as the mouse came into view. He knew exactly how long she had been there, and when she had left to come to him, but it was still a bit of a shock to see someone stand that motionless for that long.

  How do they even do it? Lee wondered as he poured himself a mug of beer and sipped it while waiting for the rest of his crew to wake up. He wasn’t exactly afraid of the conversation, but he was hesitant to begin without everyone being present. Is it just like dead empty space upstairs, or are they so good at thinking about stuff that they can completely separate the brain from the body, letting their body wait while their brain plays?

  “I think it’s a little of A and then a little of B, depending on which person you’re referring to,” Augustus muttered as Lee was spotted by Brigid.

  “I see you do not take meetings seriously,” the Brigid said. “I’ve come to gather you. We are leaving now.”

  “No.” Lee shook his head. “We gotta wait on Miller, Ling and a few of my paladins. Then we can go.”

  “Why are they not up, armed and ready to go sooner?” Brigid fussed. “We have work to do, and valuable daylight is burning.

  “Well”--Lee paused as he casually sipped his beer--“we had a bit of an unexpectedly-rough night, you know? Being attacked by an armed mercenary company, some people from the House of Tigernach’s leftovers . . . And, of course, that crazy large beast that ripped one of my men from his bed, dragged him hundreds of feet into the sky and then dropped him for everyone to see . . . Well, that kinda left the men needing a beer and a little extra time to sleep.”

  Brigid’s face winced at the mention of Lee’s men dying. “I see. I see you’ve also . . . made more sculptures. Were those the men that died during the fight last night?”

  “Not just the ones that died last night. The ones I’ve lost total,” Lee clarified.

  “Ah.” Brigid pursed her lips. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

  “It happens, but you’re going to have to wait on my people nonetheless.”

  “Honestly, I’d be sleeping if I could too,” Dave said through a mouth full of bacon as he waltzed out of the kitchen with one hand still clutching onto a massive amount of food and the other holding onto what looked to be a handcrafted seventy-ounce mug. It looked as if Dave had spent the whole night working on a sloppily-done, yet functional, ridiculously-large mug that could have easily been carved out of a tree trunk by a kid with no thumbs. “I mean, it’s been so long since I’ve been able to sleep more than a few hours without my beer orchestrating a faster prison break than we’ve ever pulled off, if you know what I mean.”

  Lee couldn’t help but chuckle, especially with how contorted Brigid’s face was as she visibly contemplated whether or not to respond.

  “The things she puts up with for you,” Augustus said over what seemed like the sound of someone eating popcorn in the background.

  She’s not putting up with things for me. She’s just trying to make sure she has her magical bodyguard to help her with the Herald. That’s all, Lee quipped back.

  “Nope. Definitely ‘cause of you,” Augustus replied. “I’m telling you, after all those ridiculous lines the other day, there is a very high chance she’s interested in you. Sure, you might have caused her to start a war and gotten a good portion of her army hurt or potentially killed in the attack, but that was all just foreplay for your next grand romance: the medieval edition.”

  There is no romance, Lee sniped back. I have Masha waiting for me back at home. I don’t need to go off seducing every girl that will open her legs for me.

  “But why--?” Augustus began talking, but then Lee thought he heard a woman’s voice behind him in the background that cut him off.

  “See! I told you he wasn’t that type. He’s way better than you!” the voice quipped. It was muffled and hard to make out, the same way a television sounds in the background when you’re talking to someone on the phone.

  “Look, that aside, why not? It’s not like you and Masha are even in the same dimension or timeline right now. As far as those things mix up, she’s already dead, so you should pick up another woman,” Augustus insisted. “You can’t have enough women in life. Trust me on that. Makes everything so much easier when one of them dies because you don’t age and they do.”

  You know, Lee argued back, I’m kind of confused. Why do you keep trying to push women on me? Aren’t you supposed to be the god of crafting too? Not just alcohol?

  “Well, technically, yeah. But what does that have to do with anything?”

  I mean, not to go all speculative, but how in the world can the god of crafting be pushing for a harem? Wouldn’t that kind of kill productivity? Don’t people invent things because they have free time, they’re bored, or they don’t have a woman, and they’re trying to get one? If a scientist had a full harem to take care of, can you imagine how absolutely little he would get done? I mean, I’m not saying you can’t have a girlfriend and be productive, but trying to have several girlfriends and still find free time to get anything done? I don’t buy it. I’m going to state that I’m absolutely positive that there is an inverse relationship between the number of women you can have in a harem and how productive you can actually be.

  Lee clearly heard the woman’s voice say this time and not Augustus’s. “Don't even try to argue with him. You lost the bet! He’s just better than you,” she argued.

  Do I want to know what’s going on up there? Lee asked. Are you . . . Are you watching my life while eating popcorn with a group?

  Augustus harrumphed. “Nothing is going on except the fact you aren’t getting some from a clearly-attractive woman just because of a girl that’s kinda dead as far as timelines are concerned. I swear, you’re such a bad Herald. How can we have so much in common genetically but be so different mentally?” Augustus asked. In the background, Lee thought he heard a “Pay up, monkey boy” comment from that female voice.

  “Is something the matter?” Brigid asked.

  “Oh, don’t mind him,” Dave answered. “He does that from time to time. It’s the whole praying thing. Communes with the god himself. From what I can gather, it’s usually when he’s out of beer. Like, when I first met him, he got on his hands and knees and prayed for half a day just to get some beer and bacon. Lo and behold, we’re fighting to the death later on and not a single ask for help from the deity. I’m telling you, man has funny priorities.”

  Lee laughed, especially at the misunderstanding of the relationship since he did remember putting on the whole song and dance about praying to Augustus at the colosseum. “Wel
l, it’s a matter of making sure the life is worth living before you ask for someone to save it.”

  “That’s true. That’s true. Here I am, old enough to complain about my knees every morning, and not a single girl by the bed that I can talk into complaining about hers . . . Makes me wonder what I did wrong as a kid to earn this type of life,” Dave laughed. “Oh well. Maybe next time I’ll save my prayers for something better.”

  “No need to worry about next time. We’ll have so much beer for you after we kill this Herald that you won’t be sober enough to remember any of your complaints,” Lee chuckled.

  “Perhaps you should learn to pray for life because, even on a bad day, this Herald and her crazed soldiers could wipe out half the army of Birnefeld,” Brigid said. “I saw them in combat once, and it was horrid. Only a small squad wrecked a twenty-man unit without losing a single life . . . So, perhaps praying to stay alive should take priority this time.”

  Wait . . . Lee realized what was happening. She thinks this is a suicide mission. She’s hoping to use me to drag Kirshtein into the war, and in the very worst-case scenario, do a little damage to the Herald’s forces before her own town is beset. She didn’t forgive me. She has no feelings but pure hate and wants to ensure my death with hers. They must have sent her on this mission as a means of punishing her for her failures and for her potentially starting a war. And those terrible lines. They assured her that I was worth dragging down with her. She really wants me dead.

  “Alright, then.” Lee took in a deep breath. “I’ll keep your advice in mind. Dave, go slap the drunk Firbolg awake. We need to head out.”

  “If it’s this dangerous”--Dave frowned--“do you want to leave Pelham behind? That boy is still wet behind the ears. We don’t need to--”

  “What? Ditch me during the next fight too, you old curmudgeonly bastard?” Pelham said as he came down the stairs from the servants’ section. “You know I’m just as good at fighting as you. What the hell is this wet behind the ears? I’ve seen more fights than you’ve seen years.”

  “Whatever you say, boy.” Dave laughed and then made his way up to the stairs. “Anyway, since it’s what you want, I’ll go slap your drunks around so we can get moving early.”

  Dave returned quickly, apparently having awoken the slumbering beasts in record time, and everyone moved out without talking much. There were roughly forty men of Lee’s and twenty of Brigid’s. Lee had expected her to have more troops when she first showed up and proposed the idea, but he already knew by the time she arrived that twenty was all he was going to get. Now, it made sense as to why: the Dragon King’s empire, as she called it, was clearly not supporting her in this suicidal endeavor.

  Even though they numbered between 60 and 70 people, the first half of the trip was incredibly quiet, except for Miller yelling at his paladins constantly as he tried to correct their ‘poor form’ and the continuous detours they made to ‘optimize’ the amount of killing they could get for the distance traveled. And no one seemed to be that cheerful about any of it.

  The first full day and a half passed in the same fashion, with fewer conversations between Brigid and Lee than two characters on a twenty-minute-long sitcom--not that Lee worried about it too much. They were both using each other, and he knew it.

  Just when it looked as if the entire trip would go on uninterrupted, their group was stopped by the most unexpected sight. There, in the middle of the road, they came across a group of seven kids. The children were huddled together, crying and sniveling, and they were the most miserable sight Lee had ever seen. Each child looked like it was between the ages of seven and ten, but they were all so haggard that it was hard to tell.

  “What in the world are children doing out here?” Ling asked from behind. Lee and Brigid had been walking in silence side by side, his men on the right and Brigid’s men on the left behind them.

  “I don’t know, but . . . it doesn’t feel right,” Lee answered back, glancing around the forest. He had seen far too many horror movies to think that this was going to be as simple as it seemed. If there were children in a place where children shouldn’t be, doing things children shouldn’t be doing, they weren’t children. Horror movie logic had taught him that much, and these kids in front of him were a prime example of just that.

  “Maybe their parents died in a fight nearby? Or their parents are fighting nearby?” Dave guessed as he stared at the group of seven.

  “That or . . .” Lee paused, using his golems’ senses to look around more closely. The first thing he noticed was that, though the kids were small, there was a track of big footprints leading to them. Not just the type of big that one would expect from a tall, heavy man, but the type that even a grizzly bear’s paw might not fill. There were several tracks leading right to where the kids were, and the kids were actually sitting in one of those tracks.

  The next thing he noticed, and one thing that he didn’t need Ethan’s help with, was that the air smelled of blood. It reeked of it. At first, Lee had just figured it was because none of his group had taken a proper shower in days, but something in the back of his mind gave him pause and made him question that assumption. When the wind picked up a little and blew toward him, and the smell was still there, he knew something was off. It definitely shouldn’t have been. He used every sense his golems had, but it was to no avail. There was no sound of life anywhere near them, as if every creature in the forest had abandoned this particular spot. The only thing upwind of Lee at the moment was the kids, and they were surrounded by the large spaced-out trees that would have been at home in the Muir woods back home.

  “They are likely refugees of that Herald’s war,” Brigid offered as explanation, taking a step forward. “We should help them out. We can spare a man or two to make sure they get back to camp safely.”

  Lee grimaced. Why do you have to fill out the stereotype of the dense, caring woman? Don’t you know any better? No. Of course you don’t. This is a world without grenades, guns and horror movies. Children probably seem incredibly safe to you.

  “Don’t take another step,” Lee warned, reaching out and grabbing her shoulder before she could head over to them.

  “Mister, mister, is that you? Is someone there?” The kids asked turning to face Lee’s group. “Mister, can you help us? Mister, it’s cold. It’s lonely, mister. Can you help us?”

  Dear God, why must you be so cliché?

  “She said you would come, mister. She said you would come and save us. Are you here to save us? We have a letter for you. Please, mister. Can you come and help us?” One of the tiny ten-year-old-looking children rotated toward Lee, and his solid-white eyes seemed to be staring right at him.

  “Miller,” Lee called over to the Firbolg who was a few paces behind them, instantly sharing a drink with Dave the moment the group had been stopped. “Miller, do you have an extra spear?” Lee asked.

  “Yeah, are they about to be attacked?” Miller asked, pulling a spear from his inventory and passing it over to Lee. “Do we need to rush over and help them?”

  “No, we don’t need to help them,” Lee said as he hefted the weapon into position.

  “Mister, please come. We don’t know what to do. I can’t see anything at all mister,” another one of the kids complained. They were sobbing, crying out for ‘mister’ to help them, one after the other as Lee balanced out the spear in his hand.

  “Lee, what are you doing?” Ling asked in alarm when she saw Lee’s pose.

  “By the dragon, no!” Brigid shouted loudly, reaching for his arm a few seconds too late.

  “I’m helping them,” Lee answered as the spear left his hand. The spear hurtled through the air and struck one of the seven kids right in the chest, carrying the tiny, four-foot boy several feet back as the momentum of the heavy spear dragged his body along the ground.

  You have killed Puck. Your party has been awarded 2340 Experience. Your share of this is 780 Experience.

  Across Party Lines (Undecided): 29 Seconds Remaining


  Next buff - (Unknown): 29 seconds

  As soon as the spear struck the child, not only did the death notice appear, but it was also accompanied by True Patriot’s buff options. He still didn’t know for sure how the buffs worked, but when he saw a blue circle next to the buff called Across Party Lines, he guessed it had something to do with range because of the name. With that, he instantly threw it on Ling, as she was the most reliable archer he knew, and he had a feeling he wouldn’t get another chance to manage the buff before the fight broke out.

  “You . . . monster! Why did you . . . Why did you do that?!” Brigid panicked and began slinging accusations, and Ling was joining her as the normally-composed archer hyperventilated beside Lee, covering her mouth and breathing in and out of her nose as fast as she could.

  “Lee, I’m with the women folk on this one. What the hell? There is no justice in what you just did! How could you kill the innocent--and children at that!”

  “Do you have another spear?” Lee asked, turning to Miller who was fuming mad.

  “My spears are not for this type of murderous barbarity!” the Firbolg protested.

  “Fine, fine.” Lee shrugged and pulled out a bow and arrow, not wasting any time arguing. Even if they were furious, he knew better. His gut told him better. This time, he aimed for the head of one of the girls next to the boy he had struck and let the arrow fly, dealing a death blow in one shot.