Meta Gods War 3

by B N Miles

  Cam let out a frustrated breath. Men in heavy armor marched in formation toward them. He recognized the man at the head of the column, recognized his sweeping helmet and the way he carried himself.

  “That one’s name is Vogen,” Cam said, keeping his voice low.

  “He must be my father’s dog,” Galla said.

  “He’s the one that picked a fight earlier today. I have a feeling your father didn’t come here to discuss politics.”

  “I think you’re right.”

  Cam watched as more men spilled into the room. He counted fifty in all, a full armored division. Behind them came two figures, both wearing long, flowing black cloaks that shimmered in the flickering moonlight. The armored division stopped ten feet from where Cam and Galla stood alone and parted to allow Lord Remorn and Warden Dore to pass through.

  Lord Remorn’s hands were clasped behind his back and he stood straight and narrow. Warden Dore remained a few steps behind him. Dore’s thin mustache and his thick double chin seemed to twist into a simpering snivel. Cam held his anger in check as Lord Remorn stared his daughter down.

  “I almost didn’t think you’d come,” he said. “But of course you did. You’re my daughter, after all.”

  “I thought we agreed we’d meet alone,” Galla said.

  “And why would I do that?” Lord Remorn asked. “The shaman could kill me at any moment. He’s worth an armored division himself.”

  Cam inclined his head. “Thank you, Lord Remorn,” he said.

  Lord Remorn’s eyes snapped to him and anger flared in the man’s face. “I’m here to meet with my daughter,” he said. “You should watch your mouth.”

  “And I’m here to speak as the head of the army and your daughter’s husband,” Cam said. “As much as you despise me and dislike what I’ve done so far, you can’t deny my position.”

  “Galla, why are you doing this?” Lord Remorn looked at his daughter, and for half a moment Cam thought he saw a measure of pleading in Remorn’s eyes.

  “I’m doing what must be done,” she said.

  And all that pleading fled in a rush. “You still cling to your misguided beliefs.”

  “I tried to reason with you,” she said. “I tried to get you to do the right thing, but instead, you sent that army out ill-prepared and under-equipped. Then you decided to do nothing for weeks. If it weren’t for Cam, we’d all be wolf meat right now.”

  “Cam was lucky,” Lord Remorn said. “I did the best I could, given the circumstances.”

  “You know that isn’t true. I told you what had to be done. I told you—”

  “What do you know of warfare?” Lord Remorn asked. “You wear your pretty dresses and you sit at my table, but what can you know?”

  “I know more than you give me credit for,” Galla said.

  “You’re a little girl, playing with fire. I can’t gamble my entire kingdom based on your whims.”

  Cam forced the anger from his voice. “She’s much smarter than you give her credit for,” he said. “If you would have listened to her from the start, none of this would have happened.”

  “Oh, you still would have come to my door,” Lord Remorn said. “Begging for my protection. And once you had it, I suspect you still would have defied me and done your best to undermine me. You’ve been nothing but a cancer in this place, tearing our people apart. We were stable before, and now this Mansion hangs by the thinnest of threads.”

  “We were never stable,” Galla said, her voice gentle. “Just because you had control, doesn’t mean we were stable.”

  Lord Remorn shook his head. “This is a waste of time. Daughter, are you ready to stop playing these games and to come back to my halls?”

  “No,” she said. “I’m not.”

  “Then there’s nothing left to say.”

  “I have a proposal to make,” Galla said.

  Lord Remorn snorted, but Cam spoke up first. “You should listen to her,” Cam said.

  “I’m done listening.”

  “If you’re willing to step down from your position and relinquish your title,” Galla said, “I’ll allow you a seat on the Elder Council. I’ll name you Elder of the Remorn Village and let you retain most of your power and privileges.”

  “And who will take my title?” he asked, almost laughing. “Camrus here?”

  “I will,” Galla said. “I will be the Lord of this Mansion.”

  “Women don’t rule,” he said.

  “Then pass the title to my husband.”

  “Never.” The laughter left Lord Remorn’s eyes. “This is absurd. Come back to my halls. Cast aside this nothing shaman you’ve set your sights on. There can still be forgiveness.”

  “Relinquish your title, name me the Lord of the Mansion.” Galla seemed to draw herself up as she stared down her father.

  The silence hung thick in the enormous stone cavern.

  Lord Remorn shook his head and half turned.

  “Shall we handle them, Lord?” Dore asked. The armored men behind him seemed to shift and move. Lamplight played off their shined bronze plates. Warden Dore shrank back a step and pulled his cloak around him.

  “I’m sorry it had to come to this,” Lord Remorn said. “Vogen!”

  Vogen stepped forward. He dropped his helmet into position and held his spear at the ready.

  “Yes, Lord,” Vogen said.

  “Arrest my daughter and the shaman,” Lord Remorn said. “If they resist you, kill them.”

  “You’re making a mistake,” Galla said.

  But Lord Remorn turned away and walked back toward the ranks of men. Warden Dore shuffled along behind him.

  “I’m sorry, Daughter,” he said. “This has to end now. There’s no time left.”

  “You’re right.” Galla’s voice dripped with regret. “There’s no time left.”

  She closed the front of her lamp. The fire inside guttered then died.

  Cam stepped forward and placed himself between the armored men and Galla. He gripped the pommel of his sword as Vogen lowered his spear.

  “First armored,” Vogen shouted. “Forward.”

  The armored men marched ahead, closing the distance. Their boots made a rhythmic drumming in the echoing cavern. Cam drew his sword in one fluid motion and reached for his fire. It rolled down his arm and wrapped itself around his father’s blade like molten ivy.

  “Get back,” Cam shouted as Vogen clattered forward. Galla stumbled away, her red hair flying as she ran.

  Cam met Vogen’s charge head on. He caught the armored man’s spear thrust and turned it aside, slicing his blade down the length of the shaft. Cam pushed the spear down and rammed the point of his sword into Vogen’s exposed shoulder joint. The man screamed as the blade sizzled into his skin. Cam ripped it back and the wound cauterized as the tip pulled out.

  Vogen staggered to the side as Cam whipped his sword up into the air and released more flame.

  Fire spread out in front of him like a river. The armored division’s charge pulled up short as Cam’s flames lapped in all directions. Instead of forming a wall, he let the flames burn low on the floor like an undulating snake. He saw the fire reflected in the eyes of the men in the front line. He saw the fear in their expressions.

  Shouts came from the far end of the hall. Cam watched more armored men spill out from the doors to the left. They were led by a figure in a plumed helmet. Captain Brice’s long, dark hair streamed out the back as she thrust her sword high into the air.

  Cam’s armored soldiers pressed forward. Half of Remorn’s division turned to meet them. Captain Brice pulled her charge up short and stopped twenty paces away, her men banging on their shields.

  The undulating fire fell away as Cam released his magic. Smoke hung in the air and drifted toward the ceiling fifty or sixty feet away.

  “Remorn!” Cam shouted. “It doesn’t have to be this way.”

  Men shouted as Remorn’s armored division began to pull back. But before they could reach the safety of the ha
llways, more bodies spilled out of the surrounding exits. Elves dressed in gleaming steel and leather marched in lockstep, surrounding Remorn’s heavy infantry from the other side and cutting off their retreat.

  Cam spotted Gwedi’s bright red hair and Miuri’s golden halo at the lead.

  Remorn’s men bristled. Cam flicked his sword and released the last of his magic. It dissipated into the air though smoke continued to rise from the heated bronze blade.

  Galla trotted back to him and stood at his side.

  “Father!” she called out over the din of confused men. “Father, it’s finished. Call them off!”

  More commotion as the Elves marched closer. Cam could tell Remorn’s men were going to attack the Elves at any moment, though the opposite flank was less willing to fight Captain Brice.

  Bodies shoved aside as Lord Remorn appeared at the front of the line. He stood opposite Cam and Galla, his face disheveled and twisted with rage. Sweat dripped down his face.

  “You damned fool,” he said. “How dare you use godlings in this.”

  “It’s over, Remorn,” Cam said. “Tell your men to stand down. They’ll be spared.”

  “You dog,” Remorn said, his voice an animal growl. “You come into my halls as a guest and this is what you do to me?”

  “Stand them down,” Galla said. Cam heard the begging in her voice. “It doesn’t have to go further.”

  “I’ll slaughter you all,” Remorn said. “I’ll kill you both then kill your unnatural godling bastards.” Remorn turned toward the line of soldiers at his back and raised a hand.

  Cam caught Galla’s eye. Her face was horror-stricken. They balanced on the edge of a blade and Cam knew Remorn was about to shove them off into the abyss. He realized that Galla never really expected her father to turn to violence.

  In that moment, he knew what he had to do.

  He called on his magic again and reached out with his off hand. He held his sword to the side, and before Remorn could issue an order to his troops, Cam summoned a stream of flame. He released it from his palm and sliced it straight through Remorn’s back.

  The fire broke from Remorn’s chest like a spear tip. He released a shocked groan as he fell to his knees and half twisted to face his daughter. Galla’s hands flew to her mouth and a scream fell from her lips.

  Cam walked forward, sword pulled back into a two-handed grip. He saw Remorn’s men staring at him from behind their helmets.

  He brought the sword down and sliced through Lord Remorn’s neck.

  The Lord of the Mansion’s head fell from his shoulders and hit the ground with a wet thud. His slumped over in the opposite direction. The smooth stone floor was soaked in moments as Remorn’s head came to stop a foot from the infantry line.

  “Stand down,” Cam said to the nearest soldiers. “Your Lord is dead. Throw your weapons to the ground.”

  Cam heard Galla’s sob but couldn’t let that stop him now. He stared at the men nearest him and saw the fear in their eyes. Cam stepped closer and raised his sword, the blood on the blade sizzling from the residual heat.

  “Throw down your weapons!” Cam shouted.

  The man nearest him dropped his shield. His spear came next. Both clattered on the stone floor.

  More threw down their weapons. It spread like a wave and soon the entire division was down on their knees, hands up and behind their heads.

  Cam spotted Vogen, still alive, kneeling with all the others.

  Captain Brice marched forward and began issuing orders. Her armored division gathered up the weapons and began to take prisoners.

  The Elves sheathed their swords and withdrew almost as silently as they had come.

  Galla’s sobs punctuated the silence. Cam turned to her as she knelt staring at the headless corpse of her father. Tears dribbled from her eyes and her mouth hung open in horror.

  “I didn’t think…” she said. “I didn’t think…”

  Cam knelt beside her. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I truly am. But there was no other way.”

  She met his eyes. Her beautiful face was drawn and pale and tear-stained. “I know,” she said. “I know.”

  He touched her shoulder and she flinched away.

  Cam stood and sheathed his weapon. He looked down at Galla Remorn, at his first wife, at the Lord of the Mansion, and he wondered how anything could survive through this.

  But he knew they’d been through worse already, and worse was still to come.

  He left her there to mourn the death of her father.

  13

  “I heard you cut the bastard’s head clean off.”

  Cam grimaced as he grabbed a rock and climbed up to the next hand-hold. The drop below was sheer. Cool mountain air pulled at the edges of his clothes.

  Sirrin offered him a hand. Cam took it and the former General pulled him up.

  “I didn’t have much of a choice,” Cam said. “He was surrounded and outnumbered, but he was still going to fight.”

  “Brought the Elves in, huh.” Sirrin shrugged as they took a few steps along a tight rocky path.

  “I thought he wouldn’t see that coming.”

  “Did he?”

  “I don’t think so.” Cam let his fingers trace uneven stone. “But that might’ve been my mistake. I thought he’d be smart enough to see that he was outmatched. Instead, I think it just pissed him off even more.”

  “Made him irrational,” Sirrin said. “Hate can do that.”

  “I didn’t know he felt that way about the Elves.”

  “Most Humans do. I mean, not outright, but, you know.”

  “Hate what they don’t understand.”

  “I think shaman tend to be a little… different in that regard.” Sirrin walked ahead of Cam. “We know what it’s like to be a bit of a freak.”

  Cam smiled to himself. He’d never thought of himself that way, but now that Sirrin said it, Cam couldn’t deny the truth. He caught looks while walking through the Mansion’s halls. Eyes stared out at him over breakfast bowls. People were curious about him, like he was some kind of exotic animal. It didn’t matter what Cam did, they’d always see him as something different.

  Sirrin climbed up a large boulder. Cam followed and found himself on a flat plateau at the base of another steep cliff. Sirrin sat close to the back wall and leaned back on his hands.

  Cam sat next to him. They were a couple of hundred feet above the Mansion’s entrance. Cam had wanted to train his magic but Sirrin insisted that they go for a little mountain hike instead.

  That mountain hike turned into a mountain climb. Cam’s arms burned from the exertion and he wondered how in the hells they were going to get back down.

  The valley was shrouded in mist below them. Cam thought he saw cook fires spread out through the trees. But at their height, he knew it was only a trick of the mind.

  “Almost makes you wonder,” Sirrin said.

  “Wonder what?”

  “How we ever made it to this place.” He ran a finger through the dirt. “I mean, what crazy bastards decided they were going to carve an entire village in the side of a mountain?”

  Cam laughed and leaned forward, hooking his arms around his knees. “The ancients did a lot of things I don’t think we really understand.”

  “Yeah? Like what?”

  “I don’t know,” Cam said. “Like magic, for instance. How’d they even find it?”

  “Who knows,” Sirrin said. “How’d we find how to make metal? Same sort of thing, I guess.”

  “I guess,” Cam echoed. “How’d you learn magic? I don’t think I ever asked you. Was your father a shaman?”

  Sirrin shook his head. “My father was a farmer,” he said. “Ploughed his field and planted his crops.”

  “Really?” Cam sat straighter. “You don’t have any shaman blood?”

  “None at all,” Sirrin said. “You don’t need blood to learn magic.”

  “I thought you had to be born with it.”

  Sirrin laughed and shook his
head. “Can you imagine? That’d be a nightmare, trying to find the people that could actually use Urspells.”

  Cam turned to face Sirrin, crossing his legs under him, his back ram-straight. “You’re telling me that anyone can learn magic?” he asked.

  “I’m telling you that you don’t need to have shaman parents to learn magic,” Sirrin said. “The other shaman I’ve met have mostly been just regular folk that stumbled into the art.”

  Cam’s mind began to race with the possibilities. “How did you come to it?” he asked.

  Sirrin took a deep breath and released a long misty stream. “It’s not a nice story,” he said.

  “I’m listening, if you want to tell it.”

  Sirrin seemed to gather himself. He leaned forward, picked up a stray rock, and threw it over the cliff. It disappeared off the edge of the world.

  “I had a brother,” Sirrin said. “Younger brother named Alfonse. He was a good boy, helped our father in the fields, never once complained. His hands were like iron and he always smiled. My father loved that boy to bits. Everyone in my village loved him, including me.

  “We went hunting one day. And by hunting, I mean we walked around the woods with spears and picked berries. Alfonse brought a bow and tried to hit a squirrel or two, but he always missed. That boy was good in a field but terrible with a bow.”

  Sirrin stopped his story and smiled out at the valley. The sun shifted in the sky and came out from behind the clouds. Light crested along Cam’s heavy clothes and warmed his bones. But as soon as the sun appeared, it slipped back into gray.

  “That day though, we got lucky,” Sirrin said. “Came across this buck, a big bastard. He had his head down, grazing next to a river. Alfonse lined up a shot, really took his time, and loosed that arrow right into the big bastard’s flank. Arrow went right in, sunk down between a rib, but the thing didn’t die. Not right away at least.”

  “It ran,” Cam said.

  “That’s right,” Sirrin said. “Took off running through the underbrush. Alfonse went after it and I tried to get him to slow down, but my little brother was too excited to stop.”