The Eighth God (The Orcslayers Book 1)

by Paul S. Lavender

  Times have changed. People forget, after all there are only two of us left.

  You and the maniac!

  Saethryth laughed. He didn’t realise it had been loud until he saw the funny looks he was getting from those around him, which made him laugh anew.

  Yes, Erekose, gods bless him where ever he may be, down in the south lands.

  Saethryth took a turning down into one of the darker side streets and standing flat against the wall of a building pulled his cloak around him. Thirty seconds later the two lookouts rounded the corner and stopped, staring.

  ‘Where the fooks ‘e gone?’

  ‘Dunno…’e must be one of them mages. That’s why ‘e was walkin’ ‘round wiv a king’s ransom on im.’

  ‘Nah, he 'as to be ‘ere. Come on.’

  The two men started to walk slowly down the alley, both pulling rusty dirks out of their waistbands as they did.

  ‘Cam on mate, we ain't gonna 'urt ya.’

  Saethryth tensed, ready to spring at the two would be thieves.

  ‘What are you two up to?’

  A battle mage stood glowering at the two men, in her unwavering hand, she held a longsword and from a steel helmet her green eyes bored into the men. The woman took a step forward revealing the presence of chain mail beneath her cloak, ‘Well?’

  ‘Oh, we’ll be right well after we’ve had you. Ain’t you a sight for sore eyes.’

  The woman’s eyes flashed with hate as the two men advanced on her.

  As she swung her sword at the one who had spoken, a huge blue fist appeared in the air and flew into the face of the other man. Bones crunched as cheekbones were smashed, the slivers of bone flying in all directions and making mincemeat out of the man’s brain. Blood trickled out of his nostrils, and he fell in a crumpled heap.

  The battle mage didn’t even stop as her swing chopped through the thieves’ arm, the thief screamed and raised his other arm to try and stem the flow of blood, even as his severed arm landed on the ground.

  The thief stopped screaming when the point of the longsword punctured through his heart.

  The battle mage bent down and wiped the long swords blade on the rags the man was wearing, then looked down the alley. Not seeing anyone she turned and went to find some guards to sort the mess out.

  Against the wall, Saethryth gazed in admiration at the retreating woman.

  ‘I think I’m in love’, he thought.

  She has been around him.

  What?

  She has been around the enemy. I can smell it on her. They have lain together.

  ‘Oh’.

  Disappointed with his fellow elf for not being able to sense an orc, he started to follow the woman.

  The woman didn’t seem perturbed by the fact she had just killed two men, she stopped every now and then to look at the goods the shops and carts were selling.

  At one point, she stopped and held up a bracelet for study after a short haggle she put the bracelet down and moved on down the street. Saethryth moved up to the cart and looked at the bracelet.

  ‘You like it? It would look nice on a pretty lady; it would show off their eyes.’

  ‘How much?’

  The merchant looked at the young elf, dressed in black leather studded with…were those rubies…the lad must be worth a fortune, ‘Three shinies.’

  Saethryth laughed, ‘One and ten commons.’

  The merchant puffed out his cheeks, ‘Young man, I have a family to feed, tell you what make it two shinies, and it's yours. But I would hurry with your decision, your lady friend is getting away.’

  Saethryth swore as he looked to where the woman was looking at some fruit and vegetables further down the street. Taking out the purse he had not long been given he passed it to the merchant, ‘Take the money out of there and put the bracelet in please.’

  The merchant looked at him as if he was a bit touched but did as directed. Returning the purse to his belt, he continued to follow his quarry.

  As he followed the woman suddenly turned and began to climb the winding road that led to the fortress of the Battle Mages.

  Without breaking stride, Saethryth headed for a deserted house that stood at the bottom of the road. He could sit in the front room and keep an eye out for the woman coming back, he had time to kill. He put a key in the lock and opened the front door. Home.

  7: The Watcher

  Saethryth reasoned that he would have some time to kill before the battle mage came back into the city, that her shift would be due to finish, and she would be getting out of her armour. She was bound to have gotten some blood on her and so would have to meticulously clean the chain links.

  To start with he removed some of the dust covers off the furniture that he thought he would need the most, there was no point in uncovering everything as he didn’t know how long he would be here for. Then he checked in the larder of the kitchen, there wasn’t much in there just some jars that looked like they contained various coloured gloop. He thought about opening one and then changed his mind.

  He would have to get some supplies later, he had some food in his backpack that would keep him going for a couple of days. But he was getting sick of trail food, and he had hoped there would have been something here he could have eaten.

  He thought of going into the secret rooms below the house but quickly dismissed the idea, he wanted to keep a lookout for the woman when she came back, and as time was moving on he decided to return to the front room.

  On his way back, his hand brushed a dust cover and something clattered underneath. Lifting the cover, he noticed a picture frame on the top which had fallen. He picked the frame up, and he looked at the picture of his mother and sister.

  Whoever had painted the picture had been a superb artist, sat in the silver frame the two figures smiled out at him, their eyes so full of life, even in the painting they seemed to exude an energy, especially his sister who looked to be about five.

  Little did they know that they would both be dead, butchered by orcs after being violated again and again.

  That had also been the year that Saethryth had become an Orcslayer, his father had indoctrinated him into the Order after he had returned from hunting down the orcs responsible for destroying half of his family.

  A family who hadn’t even known about this side of their father, who had been a soldier, yes but not one of the Orcslayers.

  His father hadn’t been the same since that day, had become morose and had withdrawn from society. Concentrating on his only child, teaching him to become the man he was now. Fighter, thief, acrobat, orcslayer.

  A month after Saethryth had become a fully-fledged Orcslayer his father had received a letter summoning him to court. The King had appointed him Ambassador to the orc lands, across the mountain ranges that were defended by the fortresses of Knight’s Perch, Maiden’s Watch, Soldier’s View, Warrior’s Stance and Blades Edge.

  Saethryth had argued with his father as he packed his bags with a smile on his face because the King had asked him as a personal favour to do this. His father the Orcslayer had had his head turned by royalty and his back on his only son.

  His father had left to make peace while his son had left to make war.

  Now he was back home, and the war was far from done, but Saethryth couldn’t fight on his own anymore. There was trouble brewing over the mountains, he couldn’t get anything out of the orcs he had captured, but he knew signs of war when he saw them. And so, he had come home, to find allies and an enemy.

  Saethryth tore his gaze from the picture as he placed it back on top of the desk. He made his way back to the window and started to watch the street.

  Overhead and unseen, a raven flew in a lazy circle a few times around the house and then with a caw flew towards the fortress.

  8: The Battle Mage

  Melress sat on the edge of a stone wall watching other battle mages rushing around on various errands. Above him on the battlement, guards paced back and forth. Now, the sun was shining, but a
s he looked to the east, he could see grey clouds beginning to blow in on the wind.

  ‘Rain later then’, he thought to himself.

  Captain Ashalone had summoned him and told him to wait here, and then she had stridden off into the Commanders quarters. Something was worrying her; he could tell that much, but all he could do was wait.

  He remembered riding up to the gates of the castle all those years ago...so long ago. He had been one hundred and thirty-three at the time, about seven human years old; in fact, it had been just after his birthday. He recalled sitting on his pony staring at the tall walls, with their battlements and crenellations. The large gateway lay open, with the teeth of the portcullis just showing. Brett, the man, his father, had instructed to see his son safe to the Battle Mages grunted. ‘Seen one, seen ‘em all. C’mon boy, let’s get you in and cosy’.

  Even though Melress’s father was an ambassador for King Eol, the man who had taken over the kingdom after the previous king had died. Melress had a human mother, this made Melress a half-elf, and in the eyes of most full-blood elves, he was an abomination in the eyes of The Seven - the gods of the elves.

  Luckily for Melress, elves were civilised and didn’t eat their unnecessary offspring, unlike the orcs across the border mountains. And so, as Melress grew, he learned that things he asked for didn’t arrive, things he needed he didn’t get. Nothing major just little things to show the elvish displeasure at this half human bastard in their midst.

  In the end, his mother had retained a few Human servants to look after Melress. One of these had been an old battle mage, Brett. He had filled Melress’s head with tales of war and death, battles lost and won. His father had wanted him to join the army, had even paid for a commission, but events had transpired that had made this impossible. Melress had had no option other than to join the Battle Mages.

  What the old servant hadn’t told him was that it would take until Melress was forty to finish his training. This very morning Melress had just passed his final exams; the young man was now a fully-fledged battle mage.

  His fingers felt the small purple piece of cloth that was pinned to his chest, the sign of a soldier in the battle mages. As he progressed through the ranks, the cloth would have a different coloured edge to it. If he ever made Captain like Ashalone, he would have silver edging, but he couldn’t see it happening before he reached his hundredth year.

  However, even as a standard Battle Mage, he was beyond the influence of all ranks short of captain in the standard army. He was classed as the equivalent of a Lieutenant. However, he could not just take control of a squad of pikemen or archers. He was classed as an independent unit all on his own because he could wield magic, and magic was a dangerous thing.

  As he sat thinking, a large raven, the size of a medium dog, flapped down. It tilted it head inquisitively and regarded Melress with a beady yellow eye.

  ‘Sitting all day will give you piles’, the raven said, followed by a raucous laugh that made it sound like it was having a cawing fit.

  ‘Funny, Caw, Funny.’

  ‘Why are you sitting here Melress?’ The bird cocked its head as it noticed the ribbon, ‘You passed then?’

  ‘No thanks to you, Caw, sometimes I wonder why I don’t send you back to The Seven or whoever sent you and get myself a nice toad instead.’

  ‘Knaa, toads are slimy. Anyway, aren’t you going to ask where I’ve been?’

  ‘Probably with some crow, somewhere, you can’t help yourself.’

  Caw shook his head. ‘Not today, treat ‘em mean an' that. No, I circled above your family house. Could swear I saw movement there.’

  Melress stared at the raven. ‘Perhaps my father is coming home and has sent some servants on ahead to get the house ready. Although he hasn’t sent me a letter to say he’s coming, and I’m pretty sure he still has another year left as ambassador to the orc lands.’

  ‘Perhaps it was just shadows and the wind, then.’ said Caw

  ‘Hmmm.’

  Suddenly a stone flew between them, and Caw took to the air as it bounced off the wall. Melress looked up, ten feet away stood Ellowe - the one person who had made Melress miserable during his time at the Battle Mages.

  ‘Hey birdbrain, keep that jackdaw of yours under control. Bastard shat all over my cloak, which made me late for the exam, so now I have to take it tomorrow.’

  Melress sighed.

  ‘Then as a novice, you should be addressing me as sir.’ Melress pointed at the cloth badge. ‘But due to our great friendship, I will let it slide this time.’

  Ellowe’s face grew red, ‘You’re no better to me bastard, a bit of purple cloth isn’t going to change how I feel about you. I’m going to smash you and your pet duck into mince.’

  Melress stood up and started to put magic into his right fist. Electricity started to arc across his fingers, it sparked and danced blue.

  As he advanced, Ellowe’s right hand had started to glow with a yellow flame.

  ‘I’m going to enjoy this.’ he smiled

  The flame smashed into Melress, the force throwing him back, but instead of burning, the flames seemed to flow around Melress. Sweat started to bead his forehead as the flames danced and writhed around him.

  Ellowe kept pushing forward, laughing crazily, but because of the flames pouring from his hand, he couldn’t see that they weren’t having any effect.

  ‘Sizzle, sizzle, half-breed.’

  Suddenly he started jerking as electricity coursed through him. Unable to help himself, he pissed his underclothes, the stain beginning to spread onto his robes. As the electricity continued to flow through him, he arched and bucked. Then he became still and fell to the ground.

  9: The Commander

  Commander Arande looked down at the documents piled on his desk and gave a long, loud sigh. He felt old, a lot older that his three hundred and fifty years would suggest. He looked older too, strands of grey starting to show in his blonde hair, and crow’s feet around the eyes.

  There were less and less people coming through with which to fill the gaps caused by retirees, and the odd death in the ranks. Only fifteen people had been found with the ability to use magic, in the last year, fifty years ago they had managed thirty.

  Luckily the world was at peace because the Battle Mages wouldn’t be unable to field a thousand souls on a battlefield.

  The elf turned to look at Captain Ashalone, the younger elf stood with her back to the wall, one leg bent at the knee, so her foot was flat to the wall. He smiled a little to himself, Ashalone was one of, if not the best Captain he had. He knew that if someone were to come through the door, she would be stood to attention before they saw her.

  ‘Are you sure he’s up to it Captain? His father will have my hide if he finds out I put him in a lion’s nest.’

  ‘With all due respect, Sir, he is a soldier, and soldiers fight and die every day. He’s good, Sir, He’s the best battle mage I’ve seen in a long time. If anyone can do it, it’s him, whatever you have planned for him, and given all the scrapes he’s managed to get into over the years, this might even be safer.’

  Ashalone hesitated before continuing in an almost awed voice. ‘And he has Belief...Sir. Some of the other students even think he has the powers of a Battle Priest.’

  Arande looked incredulously at the Captain.

  ‘How the hell can he have Belief, Captain, he’s a half-elven bastard. Just because his father is an ambassador, won’t give him the gods favours! As for battle priest’s, there hasn’t been one of them for over three millennia. In fact, I’m convinced that they are a myth, there is no basis for them in any book that I have read. Priests don’t fight, they stay in their cosy temples, healing people for ridiculous amounts of money.’

  Arande harrumphed, ‘Anyway, enough of my over loud thoughts, you had better go and bring him in. Let’s have a look at the young Melbrugess.’

  Shaking her head and smiling the Captain opened the door and ushered in a young half-elf. The young lad looke
d worried, sweat was beading his brow as he strode into the room. The battle mage stopped two feet from Arande’s desk and give a crisp salute. ‘Sir. Melress Melbrugess reporting as ordered, Sir!’

  ‘At ease, battle mage. Don’t fret lad, you’re not in trouble, quite the opposite in fact.’ Arande smiled.

  Melress looked at the Commander with a puzzled expression.

  ‘I have a mission for you, Melress. I cannot say too much, but it is in the interests of all the southern kingdoms, that you are successful. Before I can tell you any more, I need to know if you are up for the mission.’

  Melress thought about what the Commander had just said, ‘Of course I am sir. I am a soldier of the Battle Mages; it is my duty to help in any way I can.’

  ‘You are no longer a soldier in the Battle Mages, Melress, you are now a Captain in the Battle Mages!’

  Melress’s eyes went wide with shock, ‘Sir...’

  ‘I Know lad, it’s a quick promotion, get used to it. This mission is very important, and I need you to have enough clout to stop unnecessary interference from other sources.’

  Arande passed the young half-elf a fat envelope, closed with his personal seal.

  ‘Take this, read it, burn it. Then get your new uniform. You leave as soon as you are ready. Good luck Captain Melbrugess’, then a pause, ‘and please stop this feud with Ellowe, now that you’re a Captain you have no time for horseplay with the rank and file. Dismissed.

  10: Ellowe

  When Ellowe woke up, the half-breed was gone. Crinkling his nose, he could smell piss and shit. It didn’t take him long to realise the smell was coming from him.

  ‘Bastard half-breed,’ he muttered to himself, as he rose. With a shambling gait, he started off for the latrines, hoping no one saw him, hoping even more that no one smelled him.

  As he headed to the latrines, he started to think about what had happened in the fight with Melress. What had he done wrong? The spell should have crisped him, why hadn’t it? Of course, he shouldn’t have used the spell he had, if it had killed the bastard he would have been in a world of shit.