The Madness of Gods and Kings (20 page)

Skaning couldn’t believe it. “Dead how?”

The mercenary shrugged his indifference. “I don’t care. Dead is dead.”

“Where’s the body?”

Gesturing behind him, he answered, “Back in his office. Want us to throw him in the pit?”

Skaning paused. The urge to strike the mercenary down for his callous indifference to a noble was inexcusable, despite the fact that Harnin hired them for exactly that reason. Instead of wasting time bickering with the man, Skaning brushed by and made his way into what remained of the command center. Blood stained those parts of the building that weren’t burned. Dark spots spread from where the bodies still lay. Skaning stepped over a corpse, partially frozen with an intense look of despair twisting its face, and entered Jarrik’s office.
Though I suppose this is technically my office. A shame I had to let the rebels burn it to the ground. I could have used the redoubt to solidify my presence in the west
. Wars call for sacrifice, however, and Skaning had done the prudent deed.

He found Jarrik’s corpse where the man had died. His skin bore a bluish tint. Glazed-over eyes stared up to the ceiling. Crippled hands curled on the desk. A crow managed to find its way inside, pecking at the steadily freezing flesh with impunity. Skaning looked down upon the man who had once been his friend. He didn’t know what to feel. On one hand, Jarrik’s death meant Skaning had completed his task. One of Harnin’s perceived enemies was dead, leaving room for Skaning to assume uncontested control of the west. Yet Jarrik was a friend. His loss would take time to sink in, but it would eventually return to haunt the younger Skaning.

“Poison’s a bad way to go.”

Skaning frowned at the mercenary without turning. “Prepare his body for transport back to Chadra Keep. I think Lord Harnin needs to see this for himself.”

“Just so long as I get paid for it.”

A pair of mercenaries walked by to collect the body.

Dorl’s Doubt

They rode as fast as possible, which wasn’t very, considering how deep the snow was in some places. Groge managed to outpace them all thanks to his massive height and stride. The Giant wasn’t accustomed to snow accumulation but seemed not to mind. Each new adventure was a step into a world he’d grown up only hearing about. Giant elders banned the young from venturing out of Venheim for fear of reprisals by the lowland races. Groge didn’t find pleasure in his dealings below the mountaintops, but the wealth of knowledge gained was more than all of the acquired past for the fabled Giant clans.

The youthful Giant strode merrily through the snow, managing to forget, temporarily, the trauma of the war in Delranan or the curious weight of bearing the Blud Hamr. Walking through the pristine wilderness presented fresh perspective on life. Years had gone by under the inglorious teachings of forge master Joden. While Groge was eternally grateful for the privilege of learning from such an esteemed master, he chafed at being held behind.

Being chosen to accompany the wizard and Bahr far surpassed his dreams of one day visiting the lower world. Their adventures ranged over half of the continent, giving him new insights into previously stale histories. Groge understood the elders’ reasoning for keeping the Giant clans away from the rest of the world, but their self-imposed exile only resulted in the Giants becoming largely obsolete. Malweir didn’t need Giants any longer. In fact, it had been so long since any were last seen roaming the world that the vast majority of citizens stopped believing. Reality turned to myth, myth to legend.

Humans weren’t nearly as bad as Blekling and the others portrayed them to be. Groge had entered this agreement with trepidations. After all, a lifetime of mistrust couldn’t be erased in the span of a few days. The ensuing weeks solidified his views. While he didn’t consider any of them friends yet, Groge was smart enough to know they were well down that path. His greatest concerns were in not letting them down and living up to what the wizard Anienam Keiss seemed to think he was. All doubts would be tested once they arrived at Arlevon Gale.

Bahr watched the innocence in the young Giant and wondered if the youth was on to some incredible secret the others weren’t. No matter what implausible scenario they were thrust into, Groge handled it with surprising acceptance despite never having encountered anything of the sort back in Venheim.
How many others would willingly undergo such stress without so much as a single complaint? Hells, I’m not sure I could
.

He reined back his horse and turned towards the rear of the column. Most of the others bore haunted looks. He knew they’d wanted to help the rebellion. He did as well, but their task was far more important than an internal power struggle for the throne of a single kingdom. Even a kingdom where he technically had the only right to contest Harnin’s rule. That they overcame their internal deliberations to continue to follow Bahr towards the ancient ruins spoke volumes. Bahr couldn’t have asked for a better group of people to try and stop the dark gods.

Only one was missing. Since agreeing with Ingrid’s plan, Bahr couldn’t shake the dreaded feeling harbored deep within his spine. Boen was their most important military asset. The Gaimosian was the very definition of what a warrior was meant to be. If he chose to ignore his orders of not getting engaged and wound up being killed or captured, the entire quest would shatter. Artiss Gran said that all were needed in order to complete their task successfully. Boen was a risk-taker, often finding it near impossible to resist the urge for combat.

Boen was the closest Bahr had to a true friend. They’d shared more adventures than either recalled, spilling blood and drink together. Such companionship was rare in these times. Bahr appreciated the Gaimosian without actually understanding him. Should any ill befall Boen now, when Bahr needed him the most…he let the thought drop. There was no time for self-pity or images of gloom. The world depended on the actions of the select few in Bahr’s care. Who was he to ignore such needs?

“He will come,” Anienam said as Bahr rode past.

The Sea Wolf glanced up at the blind wizard, wondering how a man with no vision was capable of knowing who was near. A quick look at Skuld’s surprised face confirmed the boy hadn’t told Anienam.

Rather than waste time with asking the obvious, Bahr said, “He’s been gone a long time. I’m debating whether I should send someone back to fetch him.”

Anienam shrugged. “You could, though I doubt it would do much good for your peace of mind. Instead of fretting over one you’d be consumed with two or three. Boen is highly capable, Bahr. He will return and the quest will continue.”

“How can you be so positive?”

The wizard flashed a smile. “I’m blind, not ignorant. What this quest needs is positivity. As much as we can get, too. Time is steadily winding down and we still have much to do before Groge can wield the hammer and end this nightmare forever.”

“Forever? That’s optimistic.”

Anienam shrugged. “What else am I going to do with all this time on my hands? The gods of light saw fit to take my vision yet I retain all of my other faculties. My knowledge is vital. Perhaps I am the victim of a private joke.”

“Sounds more like the but of one to me,” Bahr replied. “Anienam, what are we going to find once we arrive at the ruins?”

A pause. Weeks of theories and speculation boiled down to an educated guess. One the wizard wasn’t comfortable making, especially not with his loss of eyesight. “Honestly? I don’t know, Bahr. All I can say is expect the worst evil can throw at us. The Dae’shan will undoubtedly be there, as well as whatever armies or forces they’ve mustered to their cause. Gnaals. Harpies. Goblins even, if any are to be found this far west.”

“Men.” Bahr’s voice was barely a whisper.

Anienam nodded sadly. “Yes. Man has ever been among the weakest of races. Human will is notoriously weak and strong simultaneously. We have the capacity for great achievement yet the majority squanders that gift with petty desires and base sins. I’m beginning to think the gods abandoned the world in order to teach us all a lesson.”

“What lesson would that be?” Bahr asked.

“That no matter what, we must endure, no matter how much adversity life throws at us, we must remain true to our origins. All life needs a deity, even if there is only base belief. It is the quest to live up to the expectations of our religion that makes us who, what we are. Anything less is in disservice to the entire race.”

Bahr gestured towards the Giant and Dwarf. “What of them? The Giants believe in a single god whereas Dwarves worship warrior gods of steel and blood. How does either compare to what awaits? Gods of light versus gods of evil. No wonder the majority of men have turned their backs. To them we are naught but playthings for their amusement.”

Anienam couldn’t argue that point. He’d endured his own crisis of faith many years ago and came out a better person when cold realization finally struck. Faith was a cornerstone of individual development. The entire purpose of life was to continually grow, nurture, and develop future generations. To become more than all of your forbearers and to leave the world in a better condition than when it was handed to you. Anything less was merely wasted.

How do I explain that to a man jaded by his experiences?
Anienam decided to change the subject, slightly. “How are the others holding up?”

Bahr was secretly grateful for the change. His mind was tired, sore from having to endure endless, deep conversations designed to prompt deep thinking. “Exhausted. We’ve been on the road for months now and, even though the end is in sight, we’re borderline fatigued. There’s only so much we can endure before the time comes to sit fast and rest.”

“I would like to say there’ll be time to rest once this is finished, but even I’m not going to be so naïve. I truly believe the gods selected each of us for specific purposes and that we are the only ones, collectively, capable of finishing this task. This is a war unlike any other the races of Malweir have seen or fought. More will be expected of us, Bahr. So much more than I am willing to fathom.”

“Tired men get people killed, Anienam. Our brief stay at Trennaron was well and fine, but it wasn’t enough. We’re going to need serious downtime in order to take on what you think awaits us in Arlevon Gale.”

Bahr shook his head. His salt-and-pepper beard scratched his neck and chin. He longed for the day when he’d finally be able to bathe and shave again properly. While a naturally gruff man, Bahr still managed time to return to his villa and indulge in self-pampering. He despised being filthy and he was well beyond that state now. They all were. Thankfully they rode the open plains where he didn’t have to smell the others, very much.

“I make no promises, Bahr, but there is still time before the final dawn. We may yet find a moment to rest,” Anienam soothed, hoping it was enough. He would never admit it, but the combination of his age and disabilities rendered him practically ineffective. There was no going home, not for him. He left the ruins of Ipn Shal fully knowing that this would be his final quest. He’d spent a lifetime defending Malweir against the dark gods and their ilk. If, just if, Bahr and the others were successful in destroying the nexus and the dark gods, Anienam would finally be able to rest. The thought left him oddly satisfied. Mortality had its virtues. It was time to move on to the next world.

“Every little bit helps. These guys have been pushed beyond the breaking point. Any good field commander would find the time for them to recover, at least partially.” Bahr knew he was wasting his breath trying to change Anienam’s mind. Their timeline was set in stone, incapable of changing simply because their tiny band didn’t know if it could carry on, but it felt good to vent.

Anienam nodded morosely and added, “We shall see. We shall see.”

Nothol and Dorl forged ahead of the others. Both were eager to be away from the group. Tension continued to build, threatening to tear them apart long before reaching Arlevon Gale. Dorl could care less. He’d done what he was contracted to do as far as he was concerned. The only thing keeping him with Bahr was the fact he still hadn’t been paid. To be sure, there were other, more important reasons that he’d never voice aloud. Some matters needed to remain private for them to retain meaning.

“It feels good to be back on our own,” Nothol commented in an attempt at thawing the casual chill growing between them recently.

Dorl continued looking ahead. “So to speak. We’re still not far from Bahr or the rest. This quest has taken so long I don’t rightly remember a time when it was just the two of us.”

“Those days will come again. Of course you’ll have to ask your wife if you can come out and ride with the adults,” Nothol chided. Hands folded over the pommel, he let his horse guide them down the snow-covered road.

Dorl might have fumed, but it was hard to tell with their continually reddened faces. “There will never come a time when I need to ask a woman if I can go do something! You’ll see! I am my own man, Nothol Coll. Not some caged beast in need of primping or grooming.”

Nothol burst into laughter. “I don’t recall the last time you seemed interested in grooming. You stink worse than your horse half the time.”

“Only because there’s no lady present!”

Nothol pretended to look over his shoulder. “I wouldn’t let Rekka hear you say that. She might not take kindly to being referred to as anything less than a lady. Especially one with a very sharp sword and better skill set than you possess.”

Unable to think of a witty comeback, Dorl merely clenched a fist and ground his teeth to Nothol’s laughter. Some battles weren’t worth fighting. Despite the lightheartedness of their banter, Dorl couldn’t help but shake the intense feeling that he wasn’t going to live long enough to enjoy a lifetime with Rekka bossing him around. He tried concealing his emotions but he and Nothol had been around each other for far too long. His best friend easily picked up on the deception and decided to use their time alone to confront it.

“What gives? You haven’t been yourself since we reached Trennaron.”
Farther back than that if I’m any judge of character. This quest has you spooked and I need to know why if I’m going to continue trusting you with my life
.

Eyebrows furrowed, Dorl tried to keep his mouth shut. They’d been through this argument before and walked away with negative results. He wished Nothol would respect his privacy and give him space. Dorl wasn’t ready to go in depth. Not until he knew for certain one way or the other what his fate was going to be. Reluctantly, he couldn’t avoid his internal deliberations of entrusting his best friend with complete faith.

“Nothol, I’m scared.”

The finality of that statement left them in total silence. Nothol never expected such admission; certainly he wasn’t capable of doing the same, regardless of the situation. They were in a business where any form of weakness meant nearly instant death. Even when they felt fear they weren’t foolish enough to admit it openly. Their very lives depended on the secrecy of their feelings. For Dorl to come right out and admit his fear could only have grave implications on the future.

“Scared of what? Look at all we’ve been through and survived. How much worse can there be to throw at us?” Nothol asked slowly, choosing his words carefully.