Gods Of Blood And Fire (Book 1) (34 page)

Vandarus listened closely, he could hear the patter or footsteps on the roof. “Well, let’s round them up for dinner, Rhys should be back soon.” The blonde man sniffed the air. “Rufio, do you smell something dead?”

They finished the meal Nick Nock had made from the stores Rhys had on hand. The healer himself had joined them half way through the meal. Everyone stared at the healer’s head. His hair was more blonde than Vandarus’s now, almost white. “I’m not going to get use to that hair, Rhys.” Rufio said.

Rhys raised his eyes as if he could see his snow-colored hair. “I had to disguise myself so I could get around town without looking over my shoulder all the time. I used a little too much of the concoction I made on it. It wasn’t supposed to be this light. Is it that bad?”

The Dragitan started to laugh.

“What’s so funny?” Rhys asked.

“If your medicine ever fails you I believe you could get a job in a Dragitan bathhouse. I’m sure some of the senators would love you. With that hair you would be just their type.” The men burst out laughing. Rhys looked at them sheepishly.

Rufio leaned back in his chair rubbing his belly. “Nick Nock that might have been the best meal I have ever eaten. I wonder what you could do with real food, instead of the stuff Rhys buys.”

Rhys gave the Dragitan a sour look. “I have to agree with Rufio, Nick, it was delicious. Why, even the children have cleaned their plates and trust us that seldom ever happens.”

Vandarus just sat at the end of the table with a very satisfied look on his face, nodding his head.

Rufio stood up. “When K’xarr returns I will suggest he keeps you on. In the meantime to earn you keep around here you can cook and help us with the children.”

“I would like that,” Nick Nock said.

“Great, that’s settled. The first thing you can do is help Tressa there find her cat Cromwella.”

***

Kian didn’t think he couldn’t take any more. It felt like they had turned his body inside out then back again. He had a line of stitches all the way down the front of his body.

He had watched as Siro open his body. The evil little man had put his hands inside him and tore out his living heart. He didn’t know what happened after that, he had been screaming wildly.

Why was he still alive? His mind could not wrap itself around what he had seen. What were they trying to do to him? He was in agony the likes of which he could never have imagined. It was all too much to bear, let alone understand. He felt his sanity slipping away. Then he heard the wizard’s voice.

“You did well, Kian, better than we had hoped and much better than the cat.” The Dark One held up the panther’s huge pelt. It was shriveled up, empty and dry. “Wish I could say it was over, but now the important part begins. It will be worse than the alteration of your body, I’m afraid.”

Kian looked at the cloaked sorcerer. He was too weak to speak. He wanted to plead to beg, but all he could do was whimper like a child.

“Now I must alter your mind, when I’m finished you will be much more agreeable to the idea of serving me. I’m afraid this will be much more painful than what you have already suffered.”

Kian’s eyes rolled in his head like an animal that was about to be slaughtered. The Dark One leaned down and began to whisper in his ear. And the true horror began.

***

Cain stood with Talorn and watched the Bandaran army march past and he was greatly disheartened. They had been bloodied now and his army had their first taste of battle. After several skirmishes, they had finally fought a major battle. It had not gone well and it had been his fault.

Yesterday they thought they had caught Prince Griffyn, King Havalon’s oldest son, unaware. Talorn had cautioned him to be leery of the seemingly unaware Abberdonians, but Cain had ordered a full attack anyway.

It had been a trap. Griffyn’s younger brother, Prince Donovan, had attacked from the east against the Bandaran’s right flank. If it had not been for Talorn’s quick thinking his army might have been beaten then and there. Still, they had left four thousand of their countrymen dead in the field.

He had received word that Lord Fox and Lord Bradford were only ten miles to the south with their armies, that’s why the Abberdonian Princes had not pursued them. They must have known about the reinforcements and didn’t want to risk engaging Talorn. If Talorn held long enough Fox and Bradford could have join the fight. Cain was happy to see the two Lords and their troops arrive. The Prince knew he would need every man he could find to deal with Havalon and his sons. The only reinforcements yet to appear were the troops from Braxton Bluff, but no word had come from Duke Blackthorn as of yet.

He was not worried about the duke’s men, they would come soon enough. He learned a hard lesson today and he needed to talk with his general. He found Talorn walking back from speaking with Fox and Bradford. “Talorn, I should have listened. I should have been more careful.”

Talorn put his hand on the King’s shoulder, he knew Cain wanted to be a hero to his people so bad that he had been overzealous. “It was bad but it didn’t finish us, Majesty, next time just take a little more time to think things through.”

“Next time I will let my general do his job. I went over the history of every battle I could find when I was in Asqutania but it’s not the same as being in the field. Things happen quickly out here.” Talorn mounted his horse and Cain did the same.

“Majesty, may I speak frankly?”

“Of course, you always can. I value you what you have to say.”

“My friend, you must be more patient with things, it is your weakness and if the enemy finds that out they will use it against you in battle.”

Cain turned his horse and started to follow the weary army south. “I know and you’re right. I will do my best to work on that. When do you think your father’s troops will arrive?” The young general turned his horse and followed his King. “I hope soon, we could use the men. Havalon has split his army into three large units, it gives him an advantage.”

Cain smiled. “Then I will just have to be patient and wait until your father’s troops get here.”

***

The Adorn Forest was vast and eerie. During the Elven wars, tens of thousands of Elves had lost their lives here. Legends told that the Reaper, the dreaded God of Death, had ordered his armies to nail the Elven prisoners to the trees of the forest. There was no mercy—men, women, and children, any of the Elven race that were captured suffered the same fate.

People had stopped coming here or even harvesting wood from the forest, claiming it was haunted. Until this day very few journeyed into the strange wood. Many of the Kingdoms around the forest acquired their wood here but only from its perimeter. The woodcutters refused to venture into the dark forest, fearing the ghosts of the wood.

Cromwell stared at the immenseness of the Adorn. “Look how big this forest is, a man could get lost in there and never find his way out. K’xarr, how are we going to find the tower inside that?”

“Be quiet and let me think for a moment.” K’xarr surveyed the forest, it had taken over two weeks to get here from Turill. “I thought maybe we could see the damn thing sticking up, but all I see are trees.”

Endra pointed. “I see a small shack down there just inside the woods, can you see it?”

K’xarr looked; it took him a few seconds to see what she was talking about. There, just a few yards beyond the edge of the wood stood a dilapidated woodcutter’s shack.

“Let’s check it, see if anyone’s home.” K’xarr kicked his horse and rode towards the hovel. It was early morning and the sun was shining. The forest didn’t seem so ominous to K’xarr. The wood was actually beautiful to behold. He had never seen so many trees, it was like an ocean of green.

The shack was not well made, but it had freshly split wood for a fire sitting outside of it.

“I think someone lives in it,” Endra whispered.

K’xarr called out, “Hello in the shack.” They heard movement from inside and the door opened slowing.

A man stepped out, he had red hair strewn with a great deal of grey. Even though he had some years on him, the man was broad and barrel chested. He wore a kilt in the style of the Phloshains. It wasn’t the kilt that caught their attention, it was the huge spike-headed mace in the man’s hands.

“What do you want?” he said.

“We need directions, you can put that mace down, we aren’t here for any trouble,” K’xarr said.

The man lowered the mace to the ground and leaned on its handle. “I don’t know where anything is so you might as well ride on.” He swung the mace up on his shoulder and turn to go back inside the shack.

“We are looking for the Dark One’s tower, he has taken someone,” Endra blurted out.

The man slowly turned around to face the trio. “You are looking for the wizard that lives in the wood?”

“You know of him?” K’xarr asked.

“I do, he came here several years ago, stirred up all the ghosts of the forest’s bloody past. A man can’t even go out at night around here anymore. Even most of the animals have left the wood. I had even planned to leave as well. I’ve just been lazy about getting to it.” He leaned his mace against the shack, “come down and let’s do some talking.”

He went into the shack and brought out a jug and some wooden mugs. They followed him around to the back of the shack where a table made from a great round of tree sat surrounded by logs to sit on. “Have a seat.”

K’xarr, Endra, and Cromwell sat at the crude table. The man sat a mug in front of each of them. He poured a brownish golden liquid from the jug into each mug. “Drink, its beer. I make it myself.” Then he took a huge drink straight from the jug.

K’xarr and Cromwell both drank deeply. Endra was a little reluctant taking just a sip of the brew.

“Good, isn’t it?” the woodsman asked.

Cromwell looked at his mug. “I would say it’s fair for a man that lives in a forest.”

“I will take that as a compliment coming from a Toran. Who are you people? You’re not Bandarans, that’s for sure.”

“We are mercenaries. I am K’xarr Strom, this is Endra Korlest, and the big man there is Cromwell Blood.”

“I’m called Ansel.” The red-headed man said, “If you are looking for the Dark One’s tower, you’re going to need help, it’s not easy to find. It’s not that bastard’s tower anyway. It was built long before his evil came to the Adorn. I heard stories that said it was built before the Elven wars. I don’t know if that’s true, but I know it was here before he came along.”

K’xarr finished his mug. “Do you know where it is?”

Ansel looked straight into K’xarr’s eyes. “That I do, but do you have the courage to brave the wood? There are many vile and wicked creatures that live there and that’s beside the dead.”

Endra stood up. “Do not question our courage. We will find that tower, no matter what we have to face.”

Ansel chuckled. “I guess whoever the Dark One has they must be important to this one.”

Endra looked at the older man. “He is the man I love and I mean to have him back.”

Ansel took another drink from the jug and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “You’re a cutie, my dear, my advice would be to find another man. It shouldn’t be hard with your looks, and it would be much safer for you.”

K’xarr tugged Endra’s arm and she sat back down. K’xarr gave her a look that showed his disdain for her outburst. She shook her dark hair back and gave him one that showed she didn’t care.

“Nevertheless we must go, if you would guide us I would be very grateful. I can pay you a small sum as well, if that’s what it would take,” K’xarr said

Ansel shook his head. “I don’t need any coin lad, but you said you’re mercenaries. Right?” K’xarr nodded.

“Well, if we survive I would like to go with you. I told you I have been meaning to leave the wood. Your visit is a good reason as any to get off my lazy backside and go.”

“Okay, you can come along with us, but you should know we plan to fight for the Bandarans in their war with Abberdon when we leave here.”

Ansel smiled. “As for fighting the Abberdonians, I believe I would enjoy that, never liked them much. Could you tell me when the war started?”

K’xarr shrugged. “The Bandaran’s old King died and the Abberdonians invaded. That about all I know.”

Ansel was silent for a moment. “Are you saying King Aaron is dead?”

“That’s what we heard.”

Ansel took a deep breath. It was plain to see the news of the King’s death had some kind of effect on him. “As I said, I have no problem fighting Havalon and his Abberdonians. So I will travel with you to Bandara if we are successful retrieving your friend.”

“It’s agreed then, you lead us to this tower and you’re more than welcome to join us when we go back to Turill.”

“Were you a warrior before you were a hermit, old man?” Cromwell asked.

Ansel stretched his large arms above his head. “Yes, something like that. We will leave as soon as I get my things.”

“You don’t have a horse,” K’xarr pointed out.

“You will have to leave the horses here. The animals will not venture into the forest. We will have to go on foot.”

***