God Wars Box Set Edition: A Dark Fantasy Trilogy

by Mark Eller

  “Enough!” Calto shouted. The room became silent as he pointed to the door. The last thing he needed was a fist fight in his office between a pompous high priest and a common whore bearing a god’s bloodline. “Take your babbling outside. I need to talk to Lady Morlon alone. Go. And you, Parkat…keep your tongue in your mouth until this is settled. I need not remind you whose home you currently occupy or that the woman standing before you, the one you just called a liar, is the Lady of this house. And while you’re at it,” he gestured toward where the dead demon still lay on the floor, “go find someone to clean this mess up.”

  Parkat started to bluster, righteous indignation evident upon his face, but then Havlar stepped into the man’s personal space. The priest balked, stepped backwards, but said no more. He disappeared out the door with the others.

  Calto turned, slow, cautious. He stared at Ani for a moment then spoke when he thought he could manage not to yell. He gestured toward her panoply. “Did I hear correctly when you stated Omitan gave you that?”

  Anithia nodded, her lips pressed into a thin line. Her face seemed to be drawn tight against her skull. Fear and urgency warred in her eyes.

  “Why…and how did you know Pax was a spy?” Calto’s nerves felt tight. His body hummed with suppressed anger and fear. A spy among his staff and he had not known? Ani’s power within Omitan’s service rivaling his own within Anothosia’s without his notice? Making a public display of her status within his home? Was there anything else she could do to make him look more the fool?

  “None of that matters. Haven’t you been listening? Grace is under siege. We have to leave now.” Rushing forward, Ani grabbed him by the front of his vest. Calto scowled. “Please Calto…I have an escape route out back. Starlite showed it to me weeks ago. I’ve already prepared some provisions in the tunnel, but we need to grab more. Get everyone together so we can leave. If we hurry, we can get everyone out of the manor and— ”

  Calto disengaged Ani’s fingers from his clothes. “What in the two hells are you talking about?” He took a step back. He had not been this near to her since before Missa’s disappearance. Being near her made him uncomfortable, especially after it became apparent Ani had not completely believed his courting charade. “Who’s coming? And why do you think I’m going to abandon my home when I’ve knights to rally and a city to save?”

  Ani shook her head. “For the seven god’s sakes…we don’t have time for your bullshit. Calto, The unrest is more than just Vere’s guards. Hell is involved. Belsac will be here within the next half hour or sooner. Omitan told me he has almost two thousand hellkind at his command. They’ve already burned Lok Mir to the ground to cut off any chance of retreat into the sacred forest. Please Calto…we have to leave now.”

  Calto stood silent, shaken. Hellborn approaching? But the scout…he…he…

  …was a spy.

  Swallowing, Calto firmed his lips and walked over to his desk. He opened the top drawer and withdrew a bottle of Evertrue whiskey. He popped the cork, took a long draw, and then set the open bottle on the desk.

  “Have someone ride out and check her information,” he ordered Havlar. “Anithia, from which direction are they coming?”

  Havlar moved to the door and opened it.

  “From the southeast…from Lok Mir forest.”

  Havlar leaned outside and whispered something to the posted sentinel then closed the door. His face was impassive, patient. As always, he waited for his next command.

  Calto thought a moment. “I’ve not enough knights to pacify the city and fight Belsac’s hellborn, too. Ani, gather all of Omitan’s followers you can find. Have them start working on putting up a barrier around the manor. Havlar and I will gather the other knights and ready ourselves for a siege.”

  Ani appeared confused. “What? You can’t mean to try and defend this place? Staying here is— is— it’s suicide.”

  Calto’s mouth pressed into a thin, hard line. He looked down his nose at her. “I most certainly do plan on defending my home. Morlon Manor has been in my family for centuries. These grounds are goddess blessed. I amnot leaving.”

  “Excuse me?” Cocking her hip, Ani placed her hand upon it. “Did you not hear what I just said?Hellkind are coming. Some of them fly. You know…like in the air…over the walls. Your walls can’t defend against them. And let’s not forget Pax. How many other spies are within the manor now?”

  Calto felt his blood stir, his anger surface. His face felt warm. A tidal wave of emotion he had been barely holding in check rose within him. This woman was a disobedient, impertinent little brat grown too big for her pants. “We have these things called archers. They have long pointysticks that fly into the air and almost always hit their marks.”

  Ani’s face grew pink, but she ignored his barb. “Are you insane? We can’t stay here. We’re outnumbered almost four to one.” She threw her hands about and shouted. “And you have never had to defend this place, let alone defend it from hellkind. I’m telling you, they will eat us alive, devour us whole, and then pick their teeth with our bones. Then where will the kingdom be with you dead and gone? Hmm? Tell me? Do you ever bother to think about anything other than your own stupid pride? This fucking manor won’t mean squat if you’re dead.”

  Spittle flew from Calto’s mouth as his fury exploded. “You do not know shit about what matters to me so do not fucking tell me what matters. My family has sacrificed our blood, our lives, and our free will, to serve the people of Yernden…to be the goddess’s emissaries. My brother even debased himself so far as to marry a whore. I will be damned if those filthy fuckers set one step inside my ancestral home because this is it, Ani. This manor and my knights and my hand are all that remains between Elise and damnation. I will not hand her to Hell on a platter by sticking my tail between my legs and running like some coward.”

  Screeching, Ani clenched her hands and shook them. “You pig headed bastard. What good are we to the queen if we’re all dead? Get it into your head.We are not going to win. Why do you think Belsac’s hellborn burned the forest? They didn’t want to give us any place to hide. They are going to slaughter us. They’ll be right outside your gates within minutes, and you haven’t done shit to prepare for this. Calto, I can get us out of here without being seen, whole and alive, if you would pull your head out of your ass for five minutes.”

  Calto shot out from behind his desk, grabbed her by her arms, and shook her. “Who the hell do you think you are?” His breathing was harsh, his blood ran hot. “You are a nobody…a common piece of trash my brother was forced to fuck. And your god…ha! He is a coward. Omitan has stood by while this entire debacle unfolded and has done nothing. Now he wants to start giving orders?” He shoved her away from him. “Get the hell out. Take you and your pathetic band of priests and priestess and just get the fuck out of my home. You are on your own.”

  Her face red with barely contained anger, Anithia’s eyes welled with tears. She visibly shook, and when she spoke her voice quavered. “I may be lowborn trash but I’m notstupid, and unlike you, I’m not going to watch my people die.” She brushed her tears away roughly. “My pathetic band of priests and priestesses will help erect a barrier around the manor’s perimeter and then we’ll evacuate. If you ever come to your senses, there’s a tunnel that leads from the compound to a nearby cave beneath Haylor’s statue out in the garden.”

  Spinning on her heel, Ani brushed past Havlar, slamming the door behind her.

  Calto’s second gave him a narrowed, nasty look. “What’s wrong with you?” Havlar demanded. “You know Ani’s right. There are too many of them and too few of us. They are prepared and we are not. Where is your common sense…your tactical intelligence? We have been betrayed from within, and the gods only know how many other traitors are among us. Damn this piece of land and your exulted family honor. Let’s gather what we can, retreat, and plan on how we will retake our kingdom. If we die, Yernden dies…because we’re all it has left. Without us it’s likely the army will
be disbanded and have nobody to rally around.”

  Calto stared at him, disbelieving Havlar wanted them to run like common born cowards. He blinked slowly. “No! How dare you side with that bitch!” Stomping up to Havlar, he stood toe to toe with the man. His second might be taller and broader, but Calto was his leader and social superior and thus his better. “Are you one of the traitors Zorce has cursed me with, Lord Havlar?” Calto rested his hand on his sword.

  The other man’s jaw clenched. Havlar’s leather gloves creaked as he balled his hands into tight fists. Dark, angry eyes glared at Calto for a moment, but then the tension slowly drained away as Havlar gained control of his anger. His second took a step back.

  “You are insane. But I will do my duty—diewith honor because that’s what’s going to happen Calto. We areall going to die.”

  Abruptly turning, Havlar strode purposely from the room, noiselessly closing the door behind him. Calto stood in astonishment at his friend’s departure without permission. Normally Havlar possessed keen wits and presented sound judgments. This time…no. The other knight was wrong. History was on Calto’s side. He couldn’t lose. His family had built the manor over a thousand years ago. For hundreds of years his family had fought against the Two to preserve the peace, to preserve the kingdom and its people. Not once had the manor fallen to the enemy. It would not fall this time because Anothosia stood by his side.

  Calto went to the window and looked out over his estate. Below him, Ani and the other refugee priest and priestess’s gathered supplies and headed for the garden. He looked over at the wall, and good to her promise, Anithia had Omitan’s faithful busy erecting a barrier of overgrown roots and trees and bushes, forming a second wall around the manor.

  He sighed. Maybe Ani was right. What good would any wall be against Belsac’s flyers? He shook his head. He could not run. He would not run. He was Anothosia’s head priest.

  Calto closed his eyes. “Goddess, why have you failed me? Why do you remain silent?" Hanging his head, Calto fought the unmanly urge to cry. He thought of Elise, alone, unprotected in the castle and his heart broke.

  “Though you have abandoned me, I beg of you to let Elise live. Let her children be safe.”

  Turning from the window, Calto walked from his office, grabbing the bottle of whiskey as he left. No matter what the cost Zorce and his minions would not oust him from his home. If this was to be his last stand against the Father of all Evil, Calto planned to make it a good one.

  * * * *

  The air was filled with the sounds of battle. Men yelled. Hellborn roared, and Calto knew all of this was to no avail. Despite Anithia’s warning, members of Belsac’s army had somehow snuck undetected to the northwest section of the manor and set Anithia’s barrier on fire. The following attack had started only twenty minutes ago, but already a third of his knights were dead. From the battlements, Calto watched as scrys, creatures of unearthly endurance and strength, dug their talons into the shoulders of the smaller devils and demons, lifted them into the air, and dropped them over the wall. Calto was bloody, his men were dying, and despite his men’s bravery, his side was losing. And what was worse…his staff and sword no longer worked. In some way, for some reason, both had lost Anothosia’s blessing. Once powerful talismans feared by any of hellkind, they were now only regular weapons incapable of causing harm to the greater hellborn, leaving him as not much more than a spectator to this battle.

  Lowering his nearly useless sword’s point, Calto leaned on his blade and gazed upon the courtyard with despair. Yes, his men were doomed, every last one of them. He should have heeded Anithia. He should have evacuated his people. Now, it was almost too late. Fear and chaos reigned amongst those who were not already dead or grievously wounded. The only power Calto now had was to kill as many of those wounded with his disenchanted sword as he could so they would not have to endure further pain and indignity at Belsac’s hands.

  But even this task was denied him Calto saw, as scrys swooped down and carried the wounded away. Another unforeseen failure.

  Anithia. His only remaining option was to make it to the statue. But would it still be open? Would Ani have chanced demons following them to her sanctuary? If he were Ani, the answer would have been no. He would have sealed the escape route and left the rest to their fate…damned be the fools who stayed. Hopefully, Ani was made from less stern stuff.

  Hearing a grunt followed by a blow, Calto twisted around while raising his sword only to see Havlar pulling his weapon from a goblin’s small body. “Wool gathering during a battle,” Havlar chided. Wet blood stained his armor and sword. His helm was missing and so was part of one ear. Covered in blood, his face was a white mask of death and eminent destruction.

  “I’ve been a fool,” Calto shouted over the din. “We must gather the men and lead them to Anithia’s statue. Pray the gods she has left the opening unbarred for it is our only hope.”

  Leaping down the battlement steps, Calto called for his knights to retreat and rally around Havlar. What few knights were within his voice’s range shouted to the others to fall back. Havlar’s footfalls thundered as he raced past Calto.,

  “To the statue Havlar. Get them all to the statue,” Calto called to him, slowing his pace.

  Seeing this, Havlar stopped, panting as the besieged knights closed in. “And what of you? Don’t be a fool and die here because of some stupid bullshit about your family home. It’s time to go.”

  Calto shook his head. “No Havlar, my moment of stupidity is done. But someone has to protect our backs and this is my screw up. I am to blame, and I can no longer call the goddess’s blessing to me.”

  Havlar started to speak but his words were drowned out by a deafening rumble. Bits of dirt flew upward, then roots as thick as a man burst from the ground, shaking, angry, searching. Reaching out, they grabbed hellborn, squeezing them, skewering them, ripping their limbs from their bodies. When the smoke cleared for an instant, Calto saw a dark haired woodsmen, his arms stretched wide before him, bellowing in a deep baritone. He was a massive man. Tall, thick chested, his presence exuded power. His voice carried like waves upon the air, a physical force nearly knocking many of the gathering knights to the ground.

  Calto was stunned. Who the hell was that, and what power did he wield? Try as he might, Calto could not remember seeing the fellow among the refugees.

  “Our backs are protected,” Havlar shouted. “Leave your self-contempt here and let’s get moving. We don’t have much time.” Havlar ran toward the back of the manor. Calto followed suit.

  Like a herd of arvids being driven to the slaughter, the remaining knights charged toward the statue, toward their last hope of salvation.

  Following Havlar, Calto pounded down the garden path, and there before the open statue, singing like a blessed angel, stood Anithia, stunning the hellborn into a stupor with her voice. Calto thought her the most beautiful sight he had ever seen. She stood like a shining beacon in the dust choked air, calling everyone to her. Her song tugged at Calto’s heart, beckoned him.

  The tears started coursing down Calto’s face. He didn’t care who saw. He didn’t care what anyone else thought because at this moment he only cared that his people lived to avenge all those Zorce had murdered. He thanked the gods Ani had stayed to give them a second chance.

  As if she were throwing out a life line, Ani stretched out her hand. Love, compassion, forgiveness— they radiated from her, blinding him like a midday sun. Nearing her, Calto stumbled, fell to his knees, and did not rise. He watched as the last of his knight’s ran past him and down into the tunnel; so few had made it. So many dead because of his pride. Calto knew he did not deserve to live.

  Ani looked at him and shook her head. She walked closer, still singing, still loving, still caring if he died. As she drew near, he saw that she cried as well. Her voice, once strident, had become softer, lower. Strain showed on her face, and Calto knew she could not hold the horde back much longer. If he did not get up, she would die trying to
save him.

  He might not deserve to live, but Ani did.

  Pushing himself to his feet, Calto ran toward Ani. They were the last ones left, preserved by Ani’s faltering voice and the unknown priest who was even now erecting a barrier of roots and wood between the statue and Belsac’s horde. Calto’s heart raced, his breathing quickened. The fallen hellborn near them were awakening from Ani’s spell. Grabbing her arm, he spun toward the statue, dragging her along with him. Calto slid upon the path’s gravel and toppled into the tunnel’s opening, barely catching himself on the handholds, preventing him and Ani from careening all the way down the steps. At the bottom, he shoved her away as he pulled her sword from its sheath. Spinning, he drove the blade deep into the belly of a demon as it flung itself down the tunnel. The look of shock on its face at the blade having pierced its body was equal to Calto’s own surprise. It was true! Ani’s blade was blessed.

  But apparently, not blessed enough. Ani shrieked as the wounded demon lunged forward. Calto fell back under its weight. The weakened demon’s jaws slathered at his throat. Talons ripped at his armor. Its screech of pain deafened him.

  “Run damn it! Get the hell out of here!” Calto shouted.

  But Ani did not run. Not this time. Instead, her voice rose, harsh and angry. Striking the demon, it sent the wounded hellborn flying out of the tunnel. Her voice grew angrier, higher pitched, as she called forth the living earth. Calto struggled to his feet barely getting out of the way before thick, dark roots, shot up from the ground and dug at the brick walls, tearing them apart, destroying the hellborn’s only means of entering the tunnel.

  When the ceiling shuddered, Calto grabbed Ani around her waist and ran, dragging her with him. Behind them, the ceiling collapsed with a shuddering roar, sealing them and every other refugee beneath the earth, leaving the hellborn in control of Morlon Manor.

  Several hundred feet down the tunnel Calto slowed, letting go of Ani. They both stopped, bent over and breathing hard. Calto brushed at his face, fighting another wave of tears. His home was ruined. Elise was alone. Missa was still lost. And last but not least, most certainly the worst, Anothosia had abandoned him. In his time of utmost need he had called to his goddess but she had not answered. Now, she would never answer because somewhere in his panicked escape both the goddess’s staff and sword were lost.