by Ron Glick
Brea considered for a moment. “I am going to leave that for now,” she said at last. “I cannot even begin to consider that right now. There are far too many theological issues there.”
Shaking her head, Brea returned to the original topic. “So. Imery came to me that same night for the first time. After I was charmed, all I could think of was you.” Brea blushed crimson. “Still is,” she admitted, looking sheepishly up at the object of her desire. However, if she had hoped to see any kind of interest from Nathaniel, she met only disappointment. Clearly, Nathaniel was focused only on her words, not her person.
Brea cleared her throat and looked away. “She sent me out to see you. That's why I came that day. She gave me a special ability, too. She gave me the ability to see truth, to know what was true and lie. She was convinced you were one of the Old Gods in disguise...”
At this, Bracken burst out with a loud guffaw. “Nate, a God!? Ya ne'er 'ad ta change 'is soilin's! Trus' me – nothin' holy coulda made such foul stenches in 'is breeches as Nate coul'!”
Nathaniel blushed at the childhood reference, but showed no sign in his voice. “Just go on, please.”
Brea nodded. “You were not a God, so the whole thing was a huge waste of time. But Imery was not done with me. She was convinced that you were up to some dire plot, that you were a danger to me, I suppose. So she sent me out here on a quest to confront some want-to-be God-person to get me away from you for awhile. Or so I was led to believe.”
Brea took a deep breath before continuing. “But I am thinking now that perhaps I was sent out here to lead you off the trail. Imery must have decided to act against you, and sent me off, knowing what it would look like. That I had ordered the killing and kidnapping, and that to find your son and your wife's murderer, that you would follow me. My guess is she did all of this to keep you away from the truth long enough to be able to hide it.”
Bracken cursed. “If'n tha's true, she di' i' right, 'cause we di' exac'ly tha'!”
Brea blanched at the dwarf's words. “I am truly sorry. I had no idea of any of this. I swear.”
Nathaniel turned and walked away for a few paces, before rushing back to face off against the priestess again. “But you were heading for Scollhaven.”
Brea nodded. “Yes. That is where Imery said I needed to go...”
“And that is where the Old Gods wanted me, as well, though I didn't know that specifically until after we set out after you,” Nathaniel inserted.
Brea was confused. “The Old Gods sent you after Avery, too?”
Nathaniel blinked. “Who is Avery?”
“Well, since you've invoked my name twice, I suppose I have to appear now,” came a voice out of the nothingness around them. As all three turned towards the sound of the voice, a short, wiry man appeared where before nothing had stood.
“Allow me to introduce myself,” said the new arrival, making an exaggerated bow. “I am Avery, God of Vengeance.” Avery stood up again, a smirk upon his face. “It seems someone here was looking for me?”
Chapter Twenty
“My Lord,” Hamil bowed profusely, averting his eyes.
Avery looked up from his reclined position, having to bend at the waist to see around Viola, who still moved with the passion of their joining. “Hamil, have you gone mad? Do you not announce yourself before entering a private chamber, much less one belonging to your God?!”
“I apologize profusely, My Lord,” Hamil bent further in supplication, “but there is an urgent matter you must know of afore it is too late.”
Avery groaned aloud, and moved Viola to the side. Viola moaned herself, now more from disappointment than for the previously impassioned ones. “This had best be of truly great concern,” Avery grunted as he reached for his breaches.
“Riders, My Lord,” Hamil blurted. “Over the ridge.”
Avery paused in his stretching. “Riders?” he asked.
Hamil nodded profusely, his hair hanging over his inverted head. “Yes, My Lord. At least two armed, for certain. I spied one on the ridge looking upon us, and heard another horse further along the trail. I fear they scout to ambush us, My Lord.”
Hamil's appearance suddenly struck Avery as intensely odd, since his scribe's posture seemed to be at an impossible position to continue standing and yet nod his head so vigorously. Shaking the thought aside, Avery pondered the problem at hand.
The former heretic's habitual nervousness clashed inside with his new-found self-importance as he considered what to do. He could ignore the riders and hope they move on, but it was extremely unlikely that armed riders in the Wildelands were there with peaceful intentions. Hamil was right in assuming they meant ill, he realized. And for the sake of his two remaining faithful, he could not allow renegades to be the first to launch an attack. Besides, he was not yet aware of how he would fair against an arrow. One may provide supreme advantage against a sword, but what sword, even a Godly blade, could defend against that?
Shaking off his momentary indecision, Avery addressed his follower. “You have done well. Though no mortal could harm me, I would not lose you to a surprise attack. I will seek out these riders at once.”
With this, Avery reached down and clasped One from where it lay beside him and immediately vanished from sight. He heard Viola's surprise pout as he seemed to vanish from beneath her, even though he himself could feel the contact of her skin. In fact, she still rested bodily over his thigh, and he had to lift her bodily to free his leg. However, even when he was physically moving her body, she seemed completely oblivious of it, moving to curl beneath the covers as he did so.
Amazingly enough, Avery realized, he now seemed to be able to mask his presence even when in direct contact with another. Either this was a new ability, or his power was increasing. Either way, it was certainly an interesting development, one he would have to explore in the future.
Avery considered rushing out of the tent as he was, stark naked, yet reconsidered it. He eventually would need to reappear, and a naked man would not likely inspire much in the way of Godliness. Godly-empowered he may be, yet Avery's body still remained the thin, undernourished framework it had been before acquiring One. And no one, save perhaps his already converted, would be too impressed with that.
Avery dressed quickly though and left the tent before Hamil had even stood up straight. The poor scribe, Avery realized as he was passing the man on his way out the tent, would likely remain prone in that awkward position until he returned if he did not say something. And besides, Viola remained in the tent undressed.
“Guard from without, Hamil,” Avery said impatiently. “Your God's bride is for his eyes alone.”
Hamil started at his God's voice, but immediately stood erect, his eyes still shut tightly. “Of course, My Lord,” he stammered. Blindly, he turned and made to exit the tent, colliding bodily with where Avery stood. However, the scribe made no move to acknowledge that he had been obstructed at all, and simply continued to feel his way out of the tent.
Interesting, thought Avery briefly before once again turning to leave.
Upon reaching the edge of the camp, Avery paused to reconsider Hamil's words. The rider had been up the ridge, he had said, with at least one other. The trail, he could easily see, ran up through the trees, presumably to the ridge in question, though the exact path remained obstructed by the trees. It looked a hard climb, and he momentarily regretted not saddling his horse. Yet if rogues truly did lie in ambush further up the trail, he really could not afford any further delay. He needed to quash any threat that existed as soon as humanly possible.
Correction, he thought to himself. As soon as Godly possible. Avery smirked at his own internal quip, and started the trek upwards along the trail.
Twenty minutes' hard climb remained as fruitless as the view from the camp, and Avery was soon hot and sweaty with the exertion of the climb. If these riders had been spying from this ridge, they had moved further along, that much was certain. The would-be-God glanced several times at t
he trail, wishing that he had at least some measure of knowledge of how to track. It had not escaped his mind that these men may not even be upon the trail, but hidden in the trees to either side of the road. It would have been an immense aid now that he sought to find these men to know whether they had even stayed on what passed for a road, or had instead left the road for concealment.
Self-doubt had begun to set in by the time that the trail came to run flush along the ridge. Perhaps he had missed the men, and they were even now laying siege to his encampment? Avery cast a nervous glance back the way he had come, giving himself a chance to catch his breath as he strained his ears to listen for any sounds from behind. It was something of a surprise, therefore, to hear the sound of voices from ahead instead. Or perhaps, only a single voice. But it was certainly a good sign that he had not actually passed the men in hiding.
A few more minutes' march brought Avery to the edge of a small widening in the path. To the side of the trail were two horses, and further along he could see two men seated facing each other to the side of the road. The man facing Avery seemed to be cleaning the other's face, much as a mother might wipe away a smudge.
“Don't you worry none,” said the man facing Avery. “We'll set this t'right. Soon's that priestess comes back, we'll set this t'right.”
So, they were waiting on a priestess. A third member of their ambush, or someone they were waiting on before pouncing?
“Ah, it's okay, Alsen,” said the other man with a very pronounced slur, “I'll take care of you.” The man with his back to Avery reached up and cuffed the other man to the side of the head. Yet the man used too much force and ended up knocking his companion sideways.
The stricken man grunted, but made no angry retort. “C'mon, Derik. That's the third time you've knocked me over. Enough with the cuffs, if you would.”
Avery moved further along the path as the other man moved to half-stand over the one he had knocked down. “It's okay, Alsen,” he slurred. “I'll take care of you...”
“No!” shouted the one called Alsen, perhaps a bit too abruptly. “I'll get myself up, if you please,” he said, with an exaggerated sense of calm to his words. Clearly the man's patience was wearing thin.
“What's wrong, Alsen?” blubbered the one Alsen had called Derik.
Alsen heaved a heavy sigh as he once again sat down across from Derik. “You shoved me into a bush last time, can you not recall?”
Avery could clearly see the look of confusion on Derik's face as he came abreast of the pair. Clearly, the man was a dullard, and if Alsen had had any long time experience with the man, surely he would know to keep his distance if he was this accident prone. Yet Alsen had yet again placed himself within arms' reach of the larger man.
Alsen sighed heavily. “Lady Brea will set you t'right. I know she will. And then you can apologize and we can finish this job and never need hear of Gods or priests or magic ever again.”
Derik's face split in a wide grin, drool streaming from his open maw. “Brea is pretty,” he laughed. “Where Brea at?”
Alsen gave Derik a wry grin. “She has been gone barely ten minutes, Derik. She will likely be gone for some time yet.” Alsen glanced over his shoulder, his eyes seeking along the trail yet ahead of Avery. “Please, just stay calm and we will get her to fix you as soon as she comes back.”
Been gone only short time? Thought Avery, looking further up the trail. Easy enough to see where she had gone, that much was certain. So why would she leave her guards to go back up the trail the way they must have come from in the first place?
These men certainly represented no threat, Avery realized. And had it been only the pair, he would have returned to his own camp without much concern. Perhaps he might have even tried to bedazzle the pair with his magical appearance from thin air, recruit the pair to assist in his defense should they encounter any other men on their trip that presented a greater threat. Both men were dressed in leather armor, and were clearly fighters. Even the dullard could have proven worthwhile so long as he could swing a blade.
However, the idea that they traveled with a priestess disturbed Avery to no end. He had already battled one priest – and defeated him soundly – yet he remained wary of servants of the other Gods. Best to face this threat head-on, he was certain, than to wait for the inevitable confrontation. After all, even if the trio remained hidden up here, they would eventually have to come in contact with Avery's group as they themselves moved up the trail on their own journey.
So, with a weary sigh, Avery moved away from the pair beside the road in search of their missing third party member. The trail continued upwards, and Avery's inner resolve to track the priestess ebbed quickly. She had to return down the trail eventually, he realized, and it made far more sense to lay in wait...
“I have seen nothing of your wife since I left your homestead, more than ten days gone, and your son only briefly as you apparently sent him to stay at the inn! What exactly are you implying? You have clearly been following me. You know I don't have a woman and child with me.”
The voice carried clearly from ahead. The heated anger in the words had caused the woman speaking them to raise her voice, and the sound had been enough to carry around the crest that was clearly up ahead on the trail. In spite of his fatigue, Avery rushed forward to catch the response.
“Stop speaking in riddles. Speak clearly!” came the voice again, followed now by a lower male voice, though Avery could not yet make out the first part of what was said. However, within moments he had crested the rise and could clearly hear the words of the large man facing off with the priestess, a dwarf wielding a wicked looking axe standing close behind her.
“I would see you hang for the murder of my wife, but not before you tell me where you have had my son taken!”
The priestess was a murderer, eh? And she had had a child kidnapped, as well. As atrocious as the thought was, Avery had seen much worse in his wanderings. Perhaps he would witness a priestess actually pay her own penance for a change?
The priestess was clearly shocked by the accusation though. Or perhaps she just presented a faux pretense of shock to think of a lie to cover up her duplicity? Avery grinned at the thought of the entertaining exchange sure to come.
Of course, the priestess denied involvement, but as rich of a confrontation as Avery had expected, his senses soon became overwhelmed by the vastness of the story that soon unfolded. And within a few short minutes, Avery's blood began to run cold at the prospects of what he was hearing. The priestess served Imery, an unlikely irony considering the depth of deception clearly at work, but soon the conversation turned to talking of her actually having had contact – personal contact – with the Goddess herself! But not before the man, this Nathan, claimed to be in contact with the Old Gods themselves! Worse still, the man was also a wielder of magics – magics of the Old Gods!
Avery tensed as he considered the gravity of what he was hearing. These were not mere servants of Gods, but were in direct contact with them – if their stories could be believed. He soon became lost in the intricacies of the tale as it unfolded though – Avatars? And who would rightly believe this man a God himself? The tale being unwound amongst the trio was quickly turning into the worst bard's tale Avery had ever heard. At least until they started talking about...
“....Scollhaven,” said the man named Nathan.
The priestess nodded. “Yes. That is where Imery said I needed to go...”
“And that is where the Old Gods wanted me, as well, though I didn't know that specifically until after we set out after you,” the one the priestess had called Nathan inserted.
The priestess looked confused. “The Old Gods sent you after Avery, too?”
Avery?! Avery jerked at the insertion of his own name into the conversation. The Gods knew him by name already?! A pit began to settle into his stomach, and the urge to run gripped him like a thing alive. Yet even as he clenched his legs to flee, his hand clenched the sword and a surge of power flowed through
him. Thoughts of fear and flight were instantly forgotten as he found himself infused with the power of One.
Nathan blinked. “Who is Avery?”
“Well, since you've invoked my name twice, I suppose I have to appear now,” Avery heard himself say. As all three turned towards the sound of his voice, he willed himself visible for the three to witness all his glory.
“Allow me to introduce myself,” Avery preened, giving an exaggerated bow. “I am Avery, God ofVengeance.” He stood up again, a smirk upon his face. “It seems someone here was looking for me?”
Nathan started at the sudden appearance of the smaller man, reaching for the sword across his back. Yet almost immediately, he relaxed his grip upon the pommel, though kept his fingers lightly clasping it. The dwarf was clearly at a loss for how to respond, as he just stood rigidly in place, clasping both hands upon his axe. The priestess' reaction was the most remarkable though, as she drew back and began to mutter arcane words, clearly intending to take some kind of aggressive action.
Avery took this all in in an instant, watching in slow time the actions and reactions of the three. Another gift from One, he was sure. His confidence was unfazed by any of them, however. He had already bested one priest, what was another? And a single man with a sword, even aided by a dwarf with an axe? What threat could these three possibly pose to him?
As almost a casual afterthought, Nathaniel lowered his left hand down to touch Brea's arm. The sudden touch broke the priestess' concentration, and she looked to the taller man for his meaning. Yet Nathaniel was not looking at her – he was focused entirely upon the man who had appeared before them. Yet his meaning was clear nevertheless – wait. For Nathan, she found she could do anything – even, it seemed, be patient.
“You are...?” Nathaniel asked as casually as he could.
Avery smirked. “You know who I am. You invoked me twice in the last few moments.”
Nathaniel nodded. “Yes, I heard your words. But there is no God of Vengeance named Avery, neither amongst the Old Gods nor the new. So I ask again: You are...?”