The Eighth God

by Paul S. Lavender

  ‘Orcs’, Bazak scoffed,’ there are no orcs around here.’

  ‘Sir, my parents, lie dead; I would hardly joke about such a thing. We must warn the king or the battle mages.’

  ‘Lady you have had a shock and must at least rest for tonight. Let me bury your family and then in the morning we will go to Ashen Falls and warn the battle mages.

  Of course, Bazak had no intention of retracing his steps, and even though he would dearly love to see his cousin dead, he wouldn’t be warning anyone. The lass would have to die, but first a bit of fun.

  ‘What is your name, my Lady, I don’t want to keep calling you my Lady, my Lady?’

  The young woman gave a faint smile at the quip, but then remembered her circumstances, and broke into tears again.

  ‘Lucy,’ she said through her tears.

  ‘Well, Lucy, you may call me Ishara.’ Said Bazak.’ Now let me deal with your parents and then I will see what I can do for you.’

  Bazak advanced on the nearest body, from the clothes he knew it was Lucy’s father; in some ways, this would be the better corpse, as the orcs would have probably killed him quite quickly. That is, once the queue of orcs had had their way with the woman, if she was lucky, it would have been one orc at a time and would only have stopped when she died. Possibly.

  He hunkered down near the body, he guessed the man to be in his late forties, with the weather-beaten face typical of someone who spent a lot of the time out in the elements. As he had suspected, the man had had his throat slit from ear to ear, a gash of a smile below his mouth, blood lay on the dry, dusty ground where it had spurted all over the place. In some ways, the farmer had been lucky, some orcs were not averse to raping a man as well as a woman, especially if the line for the woman was too long.

  Turning to the other corpse, he could see that the body was naked, a torn dress lay nearby, rolling along the ground every now and then as a breeze caught it, he ran over to grab it before it could get any further away. As he approached the body he could see the same chestnut coloured hair, the curve of a breast, she was lay face down in the dust and as he approached he could smell the semen, which lay all over the ground and on her legs.

  There was no sign of any obvious weapon wound, and he guessed that the woman had simply died of fright or too much fucking. He lifted the body and managed to struggle the corpse back into the torn dress as best he could and then went off to find a spade, and once he found a suitable spot, started to dig two shallow graves. He didn’t have time for anything too deep, he had to get to Knight’s Perch as soon as he could, but for some reason, he felt a responsibility to Lucy and her family.

  Must be getting soft, he thought. By the time he had a big enough hole for the first body, he retrieved the farmer and unceremoniously placed him in it, and began to cover him over.

  He started to feel a bit dizzy as he filled the grave in and realised with a start that he still hadn’t had anything to eat. He pushed himself on and got the old boys grave finished, then he turned and walked towards the house.

  As he approached, he could hear quiet sobbing, amongst the clatter of dishes and cutlery. He knocked on the door as he entered. Lucy was just putting a loaf of bread on the table. Already on there were some slabs of ham and a mug of cold beer.

  ‘Where did you manage to hide this feast from the orcs?’

  ‘Same place my parents hid me. Saw the orcs just in time to get me safe but not themselves.’ She sobbed between words.

  ‘Hey, don’t blame yourself. If they hadn’t hidden you, there would have been two queues, and your father would be just as dead.’

  As he spoke the words, Bazak moved up to Lucy and took her in his arms. He stroked her hair as he rocked her gently. ‘There, there Lucy. Things will work out well.’

  He began to feel her relax into him, and the sobs began to subside. He could feel the beating of her heart, the warmth of her body and he started to stir below.

  ‘Now, I’ll just have a quick rest and then get back to work. Why don’t you get what you need and we’ll be away when I finish, you don’t want to stay here on your own?’

  After eating, Bazak, went back to dig the second grave, he made this one slightly deeper, as it had to accommodate two bodies later. He placed the woman’s body in the grave, arranging her, so he would be able to fit her daughter in as well, and then placed an inch of dirt over the body to keep the birds and animals off. Then he turned and walked back to the house.

  When he entered the house, this time, the table had been moved, and a large wooden tub had been placed in front of the fireplace, inside it steamed hot water. Lucy was nowhere to be seen, but a disembodied voice shouted, ‘I’ve filled a tub with hot water, get yourself cleaned up, it’s the least I can do.’

  Bazak shouted back, ‘Thanks.’

  He pulled his robe off over his head; the small chest and his cutters were safe inside the pockets. He folded the robe and placed it on a nearby chair. He bent over and removed his shoes, his feet were red, and several blisters had popped. He gently lowered himself into the hot water, his blisters began to scream in agony, but he continued to plunge himself in, and soon he was chest deep in the water. He dipped his face and hair under and brushed the excess water off.

  As he washed excess water back into the tub with his hand, Lucy walked into the room, carrying a towel. She regarded him coolly, looking at his chest, at the scars of fights he had had as a child, taking in the lightly muscled body. He had never been a warrior, but he had had to carry out physical chores as he was growing up, and he had tried to maintain some strength, as he had grown older.

  Lucy walked up to him with the towel. As she approached, Bazak stood up to receive the towel, water sloughing off him into the tub. Lucy looked at his erection, as it became hard. Taking him in her hand, she began to gently stroke him. He leant forward and kissed her, and as he did so his right hand found a breast and started kneading it, then his finger and thumb started to tweak her nipple through her dress. She gasped, and he moaned; grabbing her around the waist he carried her to the bedroom.

  Later Lucy lay next to the man she had only met a couple of hours ago, silent tears streaked down her face as she wept for her parents. She didn’t regret what she had done with Ishara; she had needed the anchor of lust in the storm-tossed sea of emotion that she had been going through.

  She was twenty years old, and Ishara had been only the second man she had lain with, the first had been a wandering peddler who had just happened to come to the farm. They had rushed sex in one of the outbuildings, she a fifteen-year-old just coming to terms with her body, he old enough to be her father, probably just another tale to tell, wherever he lay the next night. Once he had ejaculated, he had rolled off, pulled his britches up and walked away, leaving a young Lucy frustrated and angry.

  Ishara had been different, making sure she had achieved a climax by using his tongue on her first, and then sliding into her and making her climax again and again as he thrust in and out to eventually climax himself. Then he had lain inside, one of his hands cupping a breast, as he had shrunk inside her, an occasional pulse as more of his semen pumped into her.

  Lucy wondered how old he was; elves aged much slower than humans, was she pregnant and did she care if she was? No one came out here very often, so it wasn’t as if she would have to put up with disparaging looks from other people.

  Ishara stirred beside her, and she felt him begin to stiffen again, his hardness trying to find its way into her, and soon his fingers began to work on her and within moments she was wet again.

  It was as they were both reaching orgasm that the pillow went over her face, and she started to struggle.

  32: Ellowe and the Lady

  Bazak had barely covered the body of Lucy with earth when he heard the whinny of a horse. Throwing down the shovel, he quickly ran behind the nearby outbuildings.

  Just as he gained cover two riders came over the hill, one dressed as a Captain in the Battle Mages and the other on a much la
rger horse, and wearing plate mail.

  ‘Shit,’ he thought,’ Oh well, he couldn’t take them on, he’d just have to get the hell out. At least the girl wouldn’t talk.’

  With that thought, he stooped down and ran off in the opposite direction.

  Melress as Ellowe stopped at the top of the hill and looked at the farmstead below. Caw, who had been flying on the currents above, came down to land on Melress’s shoulder.

  ‘Well, Caw, what did you see.’

  ‘There's a couple of fresh graves over by the outbuildings, one is covered up, the other has flesh showing. Looked quite fresh from what I could see. There’s also a large pool of dried blood near the middle of the dirt area. No livestock. Oh, and a man running off the other way.’

  ‘I think you should have told us that bit first, Caw.’

  ‘Well, I never know what you people think is more important. Us ravens always think of food, that’s why I mention the open grave.’

  ‘You eat enough Caw without eating Carrion. Right, Ellowe, you chase down the man, and I’ll check the grave. Caw, fly up and keep an eye out.’

  Ellowe nodded his helmed head, and spurred his horse forward, as Melress tugged on his pair of reins and moved his horse towards the graves.

  Tying his horse to the railing of a fence, Melress dismounted, and walked over to the graves. Looking at the scene before him he took in the discarded spade, the covered grave and the partially filled one. He looked into the grave and saw a bare arm, and in between the dirt, he could see hair and more flesh. It looked like the body was relatively fresh from what he could see.

  Kneeling, he reached a hand out and touched the arm; it was as cold as ice. What a waste, he thought, then power was coursing out from his finger, not the power of his magic, but another, more ancient power, the power that he didn’t know, the power that sometimes he controlled and sometimes seemed to control itself. The arm began to spasm, then the rest of the corpse, dirt sloughed off in a cascade, electricity shot into, and out of the body, sending electricity into the earth.

  Suddenly, the corpse sat up, it was then Melress noticed that it was a young woman, and he blushed as he saw her nakedness. The woman put one hand over her breasts and the hand to her mouth even as she breathed in huge gasps. Taking in where she lay, she screamed and screamed.

  Ellowe’s horse was halfway up the hill at the far side of the homestead, when the screams began, turning his horse around with a sharp pull on the reins he galloped back to the farm.

  Melress took his jacket off and tried to put it over the young girl’s shoulders, she shook it off. 'Get off me you bastard, where’s Ishara?’

  ‘Hey, calm down. If Ishara’s the man who was burying you, then he’s making a run for it, but my colleague is after him. Now please put this over you, it’ll keep you warm and cover your modesty. I’ll go and get my blanket. Just wait a second.’

  Melress ran back to his horse and was getting his blanket when Ellowe came back. ‘Did you find him?’

  ‘Sorry, Melress I heard the screaming and turned back, but there’s a trail a mile wide in the grass up there, looks like a sizable force came this way and not too long ago.’

  ‘Hmm, perhaps the Lady can tell us a bit more. Come on.’

  Ellowe dropped off his horse and followed Melress up to where the Lady still sat in the grave. Melress passed her his blanket, which she used to fashion a skirt.

  ‘Please help me, this is a nightmare.’

  ‘We’ll help you.’

  ‘That’s what Ishara said, now look at me.’

  ‘Look at me Lady. My name is Melress, I am a captain in the battle mages, this is my friend and colleague, Ellowe and he is also a battle mage. We will help you, but we must know what has happened here. But first, let’s get you out of that grave, eh?’

  Melress held out his hand, and as she took it, he pulled her out of the grave, ‘Come on, let’s move away from here.’

  Lucy looked at the captain as they walked towards the house, gods he looked so young, his ears were slightly pointed, so she knew he was of half-elf ancestry, and this made her think of Ishara. The bastard had tried to kill her!

  Melress sat on the step to the house. ‘Why don’t you go and get dressed, then come back and tell us what happened?’

  Lucy walked into the house to put some clothes on. Ellowe walked up to stand beside Melress. As he approached, he took his helmet off. ‘By The Seven, Melress, who would bury a young girl alive?’

  ‘She wasn’t alive, Ellowe.’

  ‘What, she must have been, only...’

  Melress turned to Ellowe. ‘Go on, Ellowe, say it.’

  ‘Only the gods and priests can raise the dead, Melress, you must have been mistaken, she must have been unconscious, or something.'

  ‘Yes, you must be right. Because the last time I looked, I wasn’t a priest and certainly wasn’t a god.’

  He smiled at Ellowe, and Ellowe smiled uncertainly back.

  Lucy had heard the whole thing from inside, oh she had been dead, all right, she knew it inside, just as she knew she hadn’t been pregnant, not until this young officer had brought her back, had brought life back into the sperm that had died inside her. She knew without a doubt that she was now pregnant. She hurriedly washed her hands and face in the bowl of water in her bedroom, then got dressed and stepped out into the bright sunshine.

  Ellowe couldn’t help but stare at Lucy as she came out of the house; with the sun shining down on her she was stunning. Melress couldn’t help noticing his friends look of adoration.

  ‘Oh dear, he’s in love’, he thought.

  Sitting down beside Melress, Lucy told the two soldiers what had happened before they had arrived, missing out certain facts that they didn’t need to know about. The two soldiers listened intently, the taller, human one with a rapt expression on his face.

  The captain thought a bit, about what she had said, and was sure she had missed something out of her tale but didn’t think it would matter. When he spoke, it was with authority.

  ‘Right, Ellowe I want you to take the Lady...’

  ‘Lucy.'

  ‘...Lucy to Ashen Falls. You have money I take it. Good. Stay where we did last night. Protect Lucy, and get her to Commander Arande safely.

  ‘But S... Melress...’

  ‘No, Ellowe, do this, then I charge you with protecting Lucy until such a time as she no longer needs protecting. I sensed I needed you with me, and this must be why, eh? Now, Lucy, grab your stuff and get going with Ellowe, you’ll have to ride behind him, so the two of you will be going slowly I’m afraid, but I need my horse to carry on.’

  Lucy kissed the young captain on the cheek, he blushed, which made her smile a little inside. ‘Thanks, Melress.’

  She picked up her belongings and waited as Ellowe mounted his horse and then pulled her up and behind himself. Meanwhile, Melress had retrieved his horse and mounted it and trotted over. Melress and Ellowe shook hands and then saluted each other, and then the three of them went their separate ways.

  If any of them had looked over at the graves, they would have seen the earth moving.

  33: To Find Orcs

  Saethryth had left Ashen Falls through the main gate; he had noted the followers of the Black Empress, watching him leave. One would stay on watch, while the other went to inform her of his departure. He carried a backpack in which he had most of what he and Tierra would need over the coming days. Tierra had left while it was still dark, flying over the top of the battlements on her wings, and Saethryth had arranged to meet with her a couple of miles down the road at an old way marker.

  He walked along the paved road with a purposeful air, his eyes always on the watch for trouble, even though he was too close to the city for any bandits or robbers. But out on the open road, the Thieves guild didn’t hold power, so it was open season on all traffic, and he wasn’t going to take any chances.

  Halfway to the way marker he had to step aside as a couple of merchants and their retinue
s came through, the guards casting his surly glances and with swords on hands. He smiled at them, just to piss them off.

  And then they were past him, and he moved back into the middle of the road, he always walked up the middle, and then if anyone came at him, he would have time to draw his longsword.

  As he approached the way marker, he could see Tierra leaning against it, watching up the road. He was watching her, watching him. It was strange to be with someone again since Erekose had left, he had been alone, estranged as he was from his father. He thought back to the arguments that had happened at the time, things that seemed inconsequential now, and things he would rather forget he had said. And now his father was dead, killed in a duplicitous ambush no doubt, he just hoped it had been quick at the end. He had rushed out of the house that day and headed in roughly the same direction they would be moving today, only last time he had crossed through one of the passes and into orc country.

  He had killed as many of the bastards as he could find, had earned himself a reputation and a name among the orcs. Then one day he had just thought it’s time to go home, so that’s what he had done.

  Had it been his own intuition that had pushed him towards home, or something or someone else, he was after all the avatar of Lillithel, had it been the god that had brought him back? Or had it been the sword, the sword that could speak, but only ever when killing orcs, and only then the litany of countless kills it had made over the centuries? He had thought the sword was his curse at first, then he found his inability to pick up metal. But the real curse was loneliness, he had been fighting for so long, he couldn’t remember the last time he had slept with a woman before Tierra. He couldn’t even remember the last time he had kissed or held the hand of one, it had been so long.

  Fuck, he was getting maudlin in his old age. He looked at Tierra as he approached and forced a smile to his lips.

  ‘Took your time, Saethryth,’ the smile on Tierra’s face betrayed the tone of her voice, and that smile smashed through the dark clouds that had gathered around Saethryth in an instant.