The Eighth God

by Paul S. Lavender

  Commander Arande walked down the slope that ran from the entrance to the battle mage fortress.

  He paused in his walk and looked at one of the houses that stood at the bottom on Fortress Way.

  The Melbrugess house.

  He sighed as he thought of the weapons and armour that belonged to the fabled Orcslayers. All except three suits lay unused in the basement of the property.

  Arande knew how to get into the house, in fact, he had a key to the front door in his pocket. He went every so often to make sure no one had broken in.

  His thoughts turned to his friend, Nillean. He had gone to the orc lands as ambassador and had it seemed died there. Now both of his sons would want revenge.

  The elder one, Saethryth would hopefully find Melress at the border keep of Knight’s Perch. Had it only been two night ago that he had made the young half-elf a Captain?

  It had been a busy night, and he had a feeling that he would be busy in the days to come. He had left orders that he wasn’t to be disturbed on his return to his office. There was so much to do.

  He turned to watch as two identical looking men walked past carrying a strange looking creature between them.

  He snorted as the three figures went down a side alley and then there was a brief flash of light. Then silence.

  Arande continued to walk. He wasn’t going anywhere in particular, he just needed to get some fresh air and away from that office.

  He thought back to the creature that the two men had been carrying. It seemed that monsters were on the rise, that evil was abroad in Ashen Falls.

  He wondered if this was all down to the rise of the eighth god. The elven church would have everyone believe that there was no such thing and had done it’s best to ensure that no one spoke about it.

  But Arande new, because he had seen snippets in books and had started to investigate.

  He wondered what would happen if it became common knowledge that the eighth god was half-elven.

  He also wondered what would happen if anyone found out that he had sent a Battle Mage and a pregnant girl into hiding.

  It was just as well that he hadn’t had to involve too many people in that little deception because he didn’t know who he could or couldn’t trust anymore.

  His eyes were drawn to a thousand tiny points of light that flew in twisting spirals up into the clear, night sky.

  Hmm, that doesn’t bode well, he thought, not well at all.

  ‘You’re brave walking out here all alone on this night of all nights.’

  The voice came from the dark recess of one of the alleys that joined onto Fortress Way.

  ‘Who’s there? Show yourself!’

  A woman stepped out of the darkness. Like himself, she was elven, with long blonde hair and dark green eyes. She wore a figure hugging dress and Arande could see her bosom heaving as she breathed in and out.

  She moved closer with a silky grace, and as she neared, Arande could smell scented oils of lavender and jasmine.

  ‘Do I know you, my Lady?’

  She smiled, white teeth shining even in the darkness, ‘Only by name I should think, Commander Arande.’

  ‘You have me at a disadvantage.’

  ‘Yes I have, haven’t I. You look like a strong, handsome, virile young man. Would you like to take me, Commander?’

  Arande could feel himself harden and he couldn’t take his eyes the breasts that were heaving up and down in front of him.

  The woman smiled again. ‘See how easily I have your attention? You men are so weak!’

  She reached down to stroke his hardness and continued, ‘I could lead you back to my chambers and suck the life from you in more ways than one, but luckily for you that isn’t why I am here.’

  Arande managed to regain some of his composure, ‘Why are you here?’

  ‘A friendly warning, Commander. Go back to your office and stay there. There are things happening in the city that you would be best leaving until they can run their course. An Orcslayer…’

  ‘Saethryth!’

  The woman slapped Arande across the face, ‘Do not interrupt. No, not the Knight of Luck. This one wears the purple and strangely appears to be human.’

  Arande was about to interrupt but thought better of it. His cheek was still ringing from the last slap.

  ‘He is currently taking on the Sect of Seven.’ She gave a little chuckle, ‘Or should that be the Sect of Six now. He is not alone and does not need your help. Go back to the fortress, the city will need your help in the morning to clear up the mess,’

  ‘Who are you?’

  ‘Some call me The Black Empress.’

  Arande snorted, ‘And why should I do anything that you say? You’re a leader of murderers, rapists and cutthroats!’

  ‘Because MY people have more to lose than YOUR lot do in there, that fortress.’

  Arande considered The Black Empress and saw a swirl of emotions. Anger, despair, love, hate and overall, a sense of loss. The Black Empress was as lost as a lamb in a snowstorm.

  ‘Who are you really?’

  She looked back at him as if longing him to help her, ‘I Don’t know!’

  ‘I believe you.’

  Arande bent and kissed The Black Empress on the cheek and turned and walked back up towards the fortress.

  The Black Empress stood a moment longer, her mouth open in surprise and a single tear ran down her left cheek.

  ‘My name! I remember my name!’

  She turned and fled towards her base of operations as fast as she could. Not only did she remember her name but she remembered how she had forgotten it in the first place.

  They would be coming for her, and her only hope was a human Orcslayer that went by the name of Erekose.

  A figure detached itself the shadows as the two elves went their separate ways.

  ‘Well, well, well. Looks like Sergeant Fug is in for a promotion once he gets this news to the masters.’

  61: A Nasty Way to Go

  Grash-Kul awoke to the sounds of shouting from outside his tent. What had gone wrong now? He had done as his masters had wanted, brought all his men to Knight’s Perch, and now what? They sat waiting for one of the representatives to open the bloody doors.

  Still, while the army sat behind their wall of stone, the borderlands were ripe for the taking, he had sent several small groups off foraging.

  One group had particularly pleased him, bringing him back a young human girl, barely fourteen summers old. He had enjoyed breaking her will - she hadn’t. The girl lay next to him, still, unmoving and then he saw the blood and his ripper on the ground.

  Oh, well, he’d get more women soon, more than his dick could handle.

  The tent flap opened, and one of his men walked in, there was shock…and something else…fear, Grash realised, the man was afraid.

  ‘Chief, we have a situation with one of the giants.’

  ‘Those fucking giants, what have they done now, there not trying to fuck the oxen again are they!’

  ‘Err, no chief, one of em’s dead?’

  Grash looked at the man with a perplexed expression.

  ‘For crying out loud, first, the gates are shut and now this. Right, you get this bitch out of here.’ Grash started to put his armour and weapons on, retrieving his ripper from the ground and cleaning it on the bedding. ‘And get this cleaned up too.’

  He stalked out of the tent muttering under his breath and making towards the area that had been allotted to the two giants.

  As he walked he looked about the camp, all seemed in good order, then he started to notice groups of two or three orcs together, whispering to each other. Well, that’s not good, he thought.

  Then as he got closer to the giants, he heard the crying, and then there was the smell, by Shatak, the smell was atrocious. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to see, to look upon the giant’s corpse anymore.

  He stopped walking and noticed that apart from the crying, all sound had stopped, turning his head left, and then rig
ht he noticed his men, his clan all following behind. Some of them looked almost white, but all of them were silent.

  No, this was not good, he could see he was going to have to smash some heads in a minute, but first he had better go and see the giant. Nothing else for it. Turning back to the front, he puffed out his cheeks and took a step forward, then another.

  The one giant was very definitely dead, entrails lay in a heap around the body, and it was obvious that the giant had soiled itself in death. The other Giant sat next to its friend and was crying, the tears dropping to the ground like it was raining buckets of water.

  Grash moved closer to the two giants and as he did the living one give a bellow of pain, loss and rage. Trees nearby bent over as if in a hurricane before swinging back and forth until still again.

  Grash picked himself up off the ground, as did many of the orcs behind him. He stepped up to the huge figure, and clearing his throat he spoke, ‘You can cut that shit out right now!’

  The giant turned to look at the orc beside him, ‘Wha?’

  ‘You heard me, cut that shit out. You know who did this that lot sat over there in that castle.’

  As he spoke he looked at the dead giant, on inspection, it was clear that something had eaten its way out of the giant, he was sure he could see bite marks in the purple coils of intestine.

  This wasn’t done by the castle, but hey, might as well exploit the situation.

  ‘B…Bu...But…’

  ‘Fuck yer but’s. Get your arse up and help us get revenge for your friend. Let’s go and kill them that did it!’

  The giant seemed to take forever to get moving, ‘Re…revenge!’

  The giant pulled a fresh tree out of the ground and started heading for the keep.

  Grash shook his head in wonder.

  ‘Thick as fuck.’

  Turning to the orcs behind him he started giving out orders, ‘You what’s your name, Erasnus eh? Well Erasnus, get together some scouts and find out what killed this giant. The rest of you get your hands off your dicks and grab weapons. I want that castle, today!’

  62: The Battle of Knights Perch Begins

  Troops lined the walls of Knight’s Perch as the giant followed by a host of orcs ran towards the walls of Knights Perch. Archers let fly scores of arrows, most of the arrows were aimed at the largest target and as the range was extreme just bounced off the creature’s thick skin.

  By the second flight of arrows, the giant was halfway to the wall. As he presented an even bigger target, all the arrows were aimed at the giant. Most of the arrows bounced off, but some managed to pierce the thick skin, causing wounds that didn’t even slow the giant down.

  Meanwhile, the orcs were flooding around the giant, many were carrying ladders, and they started to put them up against the walls.

  Grash stood yelling at the men around him, ‘Get those fucking ladders up you lazy bastards. Come on put your backs into it.’

  The orcs fixed the ladders and started to climb the rickety rungs as a third volley of arrows hit the giant, and the giant started to swing his massive club.

  The ogres that had been in the giants shadow safe from the arrows picked up the chains attached to a brass headed tree trunk and moved towards the gate.

  Even as the giant staggered from an arrow striking him in the left eye, his club scythed across the battlements, and two dozen soldiers were flung off the wall in all directions. One of the men is pierced by a branch, which punctures right through him. As the giant raises his club to swing again, the body jerks like a rag doll and droplets of blood splatter around like red rain.

  BOOM, the ogres, begin to pound on the main gate, as the orcs climb ever nearer the battlement.

  Saethryth stood impassively watching the scene unfold. They were going to lose this fight, he could see that already, the orcs had experience of fighting and killing each other, whereas their troops were green. There might be one or two who had killed the occasional orc marauder, the odd murderer who had chosen a soldier’s life over the hangman’s noose.

  Without the Knight, they were as good as dead. He shrugged to himself as he strode towards the empty part of the battlements, the giant roared at him as it swung its tree down towards the puny elf.

  As the tree came down, the first green hands began to appear on the battlements, from behind the crenellations humans and elves appeared and swords and axes swung down. The orcs began to fall as their severed fingers went flying in all directions.

  Saethryth leapt up as the tree descended, landing on the limb as it passed. He jumped again as it smacked into the battlement and landed again to begin running along it. As he passed the soldier stuck to the tree, the man's mouth worked and a weak cry for help escaped his lips. Saethryth ignored the man and carried on along the tree, drawing Epiacum as he got nearer to the giants hand.

  Simon had waved at the men hiding behind the crenellations just as the orcs had reached them, then drawing his sword he made his way towards the orcs that were gaining the battlements near where the giant had emptied the battlement of defenders.

  Tierra flung a coin at the first orc to stick his head over the parapet, the flying coin smacked into its head and punched out the back spraying out blood and brain fluid even as it spun back to punch through the orc’s torso.

  Melress made his way towards the statue of the Knight thinking, I hope this works, as he rushed up the steps.

  Quinn stood with two dozen men in the room over the main gateway.

  ‘Right lads, get that oil nice and hot we’re about ta receive unwanted guests!’

  The men threw more logs onto the fires below the four already bubbling cauldrons.

  ‘Keep ‘em hot, lads. I’ll let you know when ta use ‘em.’

  Quinn looked down the murder hole in the floor watching for the moment the ogres smashed the outer doors down.

  Boom, the room shook as the ram hit the oak doors, dust mites danced in the displaced air. Quinn was sure he had heard a crack in the wood splinter.

  Two or three more good swings and they’ll be in, he thought.

  63: Melress and the Golem

  The giant began to shake the tree like a human trying to shoo a wasp away. On the trunk, Saethryth tried as best he could to remain standing, but one particularly fearsome wave saw him flung off the tree. As the battlement loomed closer, he tucked himself into a ball and rolled as he hit the ground.

  Even as he landed, his air exploded out in a loud exhalation. He had hit the ground harder than he had thought and he lay still as he began to come back to his senses.

  He didn’t see the trunk sweeping down, but he could feel its passing through the air and began to roll to the side. He knew even as he began moving that he was going to be too late, that the trunk was too wide to avoid. He was going to be skewered like that other unfortunate soldier.

  Then he heard a whoosh from his side, and as he opened his eyes, he saw half of the tree fly into the sky. The giant looked just as confused as he did and then suddenly he had a huge stone fist in his face, and the giant was spitting out bits of broken teeth and blood.

  Another stone fist, this one wielding a huge stone sword swung into view even as the giant regained its senses. The giant ducked under a swing from the stone golem and wrapped its arms around the waist of the golem bracing himself he began to lift the golem off the ground.

  The golem pounded the giant on the back with the stone hilt of his sword its eyes glowing with a fierce intensity.

  The giant grunted as it heaved at the golem, but the golem was too heavy causing the two figures to crash to the earth. The walls of Knight’s Perch shook as dust and earth were thrown into the air.

  The defenders were blinded by the billowing dust, and as the wheeled around coughing, the orcs made the top of the walls in ever increasing numbers.

  Tierra had moved up to where Melress stood next to the now empty base, where the Knight had stood. As she approached, she saw his lips working as he commanded the statue to do his bidd
ing. She had felt useless on the battlements and had thought to defend Melress if the orcs managed to breach the walls.

  A sudden crash as the oak gates of the gatehouse fell off their hinges, one falling flat on the ground and the other swinging on one hinge for a few seconds before falling to join it. The ogres rushed forward followed by a mass of Shik orcs all howling for the blood of the men who fought against them.

  Grash-Kul had gained the top of the wall along with a dozen of his personal bodyguards, as the dust billowed out before them his guard formed a protective cordon around their chief.

  Saethryth could see figures moving in the dust cloud but couldn’t be sure if they were friend or foe. Even as he peered intently into the maelstrom, he saw several of the figures lash out at bodies writhing on the ground.

  The figures started to advance out of the dust.

  Tierra looked over the battlements and saw the dust cloud pouring over the defenders like liquid. She began to flap her wings and knowing that they were not powerful enough on their own, began to pour magic into the wind that was created. As the dust cloud hit the draughts of wind, it was pushed up and over the defenders on the wall, and slowly the dust began to disperse.

  Simon parried the orc’s cutter as it came thrusting in, and with a quick thrust of his own, he pierced the orc through the stomach. As he pulled the blade out, the orc’s intestines slid out of the gaping wound. The smell of offal hit Simon in the face, but he was already moving seeking other orc’s that had managed to gain the wall.

  Quinn looked down impassively at the milling horde of ogres and orcs below. Turning to the men below he spoke in a calm tone, ‘Let ‘em go, lads.'

  The sweating men around him turned the wheels on the pots of oil. Silently the stoppers opened, and death poured down and over the enemy below. Anguished screams began as hair burnt and skin melted like wax, clumps of flesh burnt away revealing the gleaming bone beneath, weapons melted under the onslaught of red hot liquid. Shields were of no use as the oil bounced off hitting orcs farther back and inside the tower, the oil hitting sides and feet, burning off toes and ankles, setting fire to trousers and boots. Panic gripped the orcs that were still alive and able to run, screaming they backed out of the tower looking for easier pickings.