One (The Godslayer Cycle Book 1) (33 page)

“Fah!” snapped Bracken.  “It seems there's nothin' lef' doin' tha' others canna be doin' on their own.  The tavern's a complete loss, so  all I coul' do was ta poss'bly plan ta rebuild.  But at the moment, tha' seems poin'less.  'Sides, the snow would be here 'fore I could get much star'ed, e'en if I ha' the purse ta buy materials.  So springtime's as good a time as any fer such plannin'.  An' I've given ma word to ya 'ready.  Soon's we take care o'...  your place...” Bracken stumbled at his words, unable to say what needed to be said.

“
Mariabelle has been taken care of,” inserted Karmel, turning to Nathaniel.  “The Gods will watch over her, preserve her form in hopes that one day her spirit may be restored.”

Bracken scowled.  “So tha's the hook ya got in young Nate,” he nearly snarled.  “The man 'as lost 'is wife, so's ya promise him a chance ta have 'er brough' back, an' then he'll dance howe'er ya like.  I've seen some common schemes promisin' sim'lar, an' the grift only bein' run by human miscreants.  When a
God
deigns to play at it, though, it adds a truly sick twist, don' i'?”

“
Bracken...” started Nathaniel.

“
This needs sayin', Nate,” Bracken interrupted.  “Ya are one sick ghoul, lady, ta pray 'pon a mere mort'l's despair ta get what ya want.  So wha'?  Nate's promised his soul?  Is tha' the goin' price fer mir'cles in this day 'n' age?  An' wha' you be wantin' fer tha, then, eh?”

Karmel did well to cover her anger, but Nathaniel could tell she had been affronted.  “Nathan's soul is his own, sir dwarf,” she uttered menacingly.  “And I do not take kindly to words accusing me and mine to common soul-bartering as though we were demons!  You should think more carefully before you accuse, Sir Helmen!”

Bracken stepped back as though struck. Nathaniel noticed his friend's discomfort and wondered at the name.  Helmen?  Who was Sir Helmen?

“
Do
no'
speak tha' name,” mumbled Bracken after a moment, though still visibly shaken.  “Helmen's dead an' buried, an' bes' lef' tha' way...”

Karmel visibly calmed.  “I apologize, good sir.  I misspoke.  Still, you should not so readily anger a Goddess.  A slip of the tongue is but a small measure of what I could do if aroused.”

The Goddess then turned to Nathaniel.  “You will find two horses with tack and supplies at your homestead.  It is in the general direction you must travel and well enough removed that they will go undiscovered until you may retrieve them.  There is some coin amidst the supplies to purchase what you might need along the way.

“
Mariabelle has...  been taken away, so that you need not face that again as yet. I would suggest riding swiftly so that you might  possibly overtake Brea before she reaches Scollhaven.  I need not remind you of what may happen if she reaches the sword first.”

“
Sword?  Wha's this 'bout a sword?” grunted Bracken.

“
Nathan will explain all that he wishes,” responded Karmel.  “Blessed be your trek.  We shall be watching over you.”  And then Karmel was gone.

“
Pow'rful frien's ya been keepin', Nate,” laughed Bracken self-consciously.  “Ya sure ya know wha' you're gettin' yerself mucked up wit'?”

“
No,” confessed Nathaniel.  “But I'm learning.”  He paused to look at the lighting in the east.  “We'd best be going if we're going to.  The day's already begun.”

“
I'll be needin' ta leave word quickly and retrieve somethin' first.  Gi' me a handspan 'fore leavin' wit'out me!”  Bracken trudged out of the rubble to where a couple of men stood talking, calling out to them as he went.

Nathaniel found a relatively stable pile of debris and sat down to wait.  Suddenly, he was very tired.  And more than from the heavy labor and sleepless night.  It finally struck him how alone he now was.  His wife was gone, his son taken, and his life destroyed.  Now he was taking leave of the only community he had ever called home.  And though he would at least have along a good friend, Bracken's companionship could not replace all that he had lost this night.

All because of this game the Gods played amongst themselves.  All because they had drafted him into their game without even consulting him first.  And now he was expected to put his own life on the line for a group of immortals that the rest of the world thought long since dead and gone.  It just did not seem fair to ask so much of a man who had so little to begin with, and so much less now.

It was only a few minutes before Bracken came trudging back, hefting a familiar item upon his shoulder, and carrying an all too familiar satchel at his waist.  “All set?” he called.

Nathaniel blinked.  “How did those survive all of this?” he gasped.

Bracken turned a deceptively casual look at the great axe, once bright and polished, now dark and smudged.  “Ah, this ol' thing?”  he said.  “Why,
Hal'braken
be made o' much stern'r stuff'n one might think.  Mayhaps I'll tell ya it's story 'long the way.

“
As for these,” he added, patting the small satchel hanging from his belt.  “Found 'em beneath wha' was left'a the bar.  Jus' plain dumb luck, tha...”  The dwarf shrugged, his shoulders barely moving upwards against the sides of his thick neck.

“
Hal'braken
?”  Nathaniel asked.  “You named your axe after yourself?”

Bracken's eyes twinkled.  “Now, tha's part o' the tale, lad.  But I think I' don't give too much 'way ta tell tha' it is the other way 'round.  It be my name tha' is taken from it.”

“I think I just might listen to that story,” Nathaniel said, standing up and beginning to walk clear of the former sight of the Wyrm's Fang.

“
Ach, an' you
don'
listen ta my
other
stories?” grumped the dwarf.  “Well, this one ya'd bes' hear from me first 'fore tha' loose-lipped Goddess o' yours blurts it ou' on 'er own!  Slip o' the tongue, indeed!”

“
You know, Bracken,” Nathaniel said, putting all levity aside, “you can still turn back.  You don't exactly know what you're getting into...”

“
Gods an' swords an' murd'rous miscreants.  Wha' else do I need knowin'?”  Bracken asked.  When Nathaniel did not immediately respond, Bracken's smile completely faded away as he added, “Seriously, Nate.  What else do I need ta know?”

Nathaniel found himself laughing in spite of himself.  Taking a deep breath, he started to tell his story as the two began the first steps of their journey away from Oaken Wood.  “You remember that stranger who you thought smelled of magic...?”

“
No' tha' ya woulda heard as much, bein' human an' all,” explained Bracken, “bu' 'Bracken' was act'ally the name o' the dwarven God o' Hillfire, wha' yer lot call 'lava' or such.”  The dwarf snapped a twig and threw it into the fire.  “
Hal'braken
was 'is weapon o' legend.  It was lost along wit' the God hisself some thousand years gone.”

Bracken and Nate had made camp for the evening, and with the dwarf's help, had begun a fair-sized fire.  The two now sat to the edge of the pit, facing the path that passed for a road through the wooded terrain through which they traveled.  Bracken had insisted that they be at least somewhat back from the path, and so there were a few trees between themselves and the road, but not so far as they could not see someone approaching by that route.

The pair had been gone out of Oaken Wood now for two days, and had only earlier that day found the first evidence that they were likely on Brea's trail: an abandoned campsite with tracks of three people and horses.  Bracken's information from those he had spoken to before leaving had said she had hired two retainers for the trip, so the evidence at hand fit with what they knew of her party.  The campsite was fresh enough to suggest that her party had only been there that morning.

Most of the remainder of that day had been spent in quick riding in an effort to gain ground upon the trio.  Nathaniel was disappointed that by nightfall they had not yet seen any further sign of them, but Bracken was far more optimistic that they were gaining.   Brea's party would presumably not expect to be followed, especially if they assumed their raids upon Nate's unsuspecting family were successful.  After all, if that were their conclusion, the presumption would be that Nate would be dead along with his wife.  Therefore, they had no reason to actually be fleeing and Bracken was certain that the priestess would be moving with the unhurried pace of the overconfident.

The rocky terrain had been another inhibitor to moving too fast, as well, not to mention the need to conserve their own horses' strength.  Even further, the sound of hard pursuit could just as easily expose their efforts, especially if Brea were crafty enough to have one of her retainers ride a distance behind the other two.

“
It's wha' I woulda done in the ol' days,” had said Bracken elusively when asked how he knew about such things.  And no amount of prying by Nathaniel could get the dwarf to divulge more at that time.

So they had kept the horses from a full gait, yet had ridden faster than a casual canter.  Though the pace was certain to not overtake Brea's party with any haste, Bracken assured his anxious companion that it
would
overtake them.  They had time, and Bracken saw no point in pressing their advantage solely to sate Nathaniel's lust for vengeance.

Most of the time prior to the discovery of the camp, including the first night's encampment, had been spent by Nathaniel answering the dwarf's questions as best he could about the Gods and their purpose, about being appointed as an Avatar and the quest he was being compelled to undertake for the nine swords.  They had slept late that first morning as a consequence of two full days and a night without sleep, even though they had agreed to stand guard.  Bracken had successfully completed his own watch, though Nathaniel had succumbed to exhaustion and failed to wake Bracken at dawn.  The dwarf had accepted the man's mistake well enough, though with an off-handed comment about “green'orn advent'rers”.  It always took awhile before the novice learned the ways of the road, had commented the dwarf more openly.

For Nathaniel, the only conspicuous aspect of the trip so far had been the notable absence of the Gods themselves.  Nathaniel would have wagered on their persistent presence along the way, though held no true disappointment that, at least so far, he had been wrong.

Now on their second night, Bracken had finally decided to open up to Nathaniel.  In spite of the innumerable questions the dwarf had poised to Nathaniel, he had been completely silent upon his own promise to discuss his past before the Gods could “blurt I' out”.  So at last the dwarf had begun speaking of himself, for the first time in over a dozen years speaking upon his own mystery.  It was not prompted by any questions or suggestions.  Bracken simply started talking during an otherwise quiet moment between the two.

“Karmel had said something about 'foregoing the worship of Gods' or something like that,” Nathaniel commented.

Bracken nodded.  “Aye.  The dwarves call i' the Battle o' Ascension.  Which is a fancy way o' sayin' we ou'grew the need fer Gods and cast 'em out.  In truth, our Gods were petty an' vindictive, cons'antly strivin' fer strength and keepin' the dwarven tribes always a' war wit' each other an' other races.  Though mos'ly wit' each other.  The War o' Ascension marked the end o' their reign.  An' it's also where the story o' how I came by
Hal'braken
begins.”

Nathaniel gave the dwarf an odd look, but Bracken only grunted.  “
Hal'braken
translates from the dwarven tongue as Axe o' Bracken.  Lore says tha' Bracken used his axe ta open cracks in the groun' ta set the hillfire loose.  'Twas always at the God's side, and i' was said tha' if 'e ever laid down 'is weapon, 'e would die.

“
Well, Bracken's greatest nem'sis 'mong the other Gods was Palo'ak, the Goddess o' Stone.  Whenever Bracken would cleave a new vein o' hillfire, 'twas said, he'd strike a blow 'gainst Palo'ak, an' every time she would thrust stone 'round an' block Bracken's precious veins, 'e'd 'come enraged.

“
The legends always said tha' wha' yer lot calls a 'volcano'”, Bracken's pronunciation was slow and forced on what he considered a foreign word, “'n' wha' the dwarves call 'rockfires', was where Bracken an' Palo'ak fough' fer dominance.  O' course, Palo'ak woul' always 'vent'ally win, 'cause rockfires always stopped spewin' fire an' turned ta stone.  Bu' tha' would'n' stop Bracken from tryin' o'er and 'gain to win 'gainst Palo'ak.

“
Deep within the bowels o' the worl' where dwarven tribes lived, the worsh'pers o' Bracken and Palo'ak were the bitt'rest o' rivals.  Murder was the leas' o' the travesties they'd inflict 'pon each other.  An' the rest of the dwarven society reflected this barbaric feud in one way 'r 'nother.  This battle ha' been ongoin' fer generations an' showed no signs o' bein' won by either side, though the losses were staggerin' on each side.

“
Then one day, a priest o' Bracken – Landar, by name – fell in love wit' a young lass tha', as fate would 'ave it, was a follower o' Palo'ak.  He was committed to 'is God though an' resigned ta be denied 'is love.  'Til one day 'e learned she 'ad died in an attack 'e 'imself had been a part o'.  Lander could'n' live wit himself fer his guilt, bu' ult'mately came ta a thought tha' no other dwarf ha' dared utter: Killin' each other fer the sake o' the Gods who ne'er died would sooner 'r later destroy the dwarves as a race alt'gether.

“
An' so Lander plotted with a priest o' Palo'ak, who ha' been a rel'tive o' Lander's love, ta end the Gods' reign.  They devised a strat'gy tha' called 'pon the Gods in person fer a final head-ta-head battle, ta convince their Gods ta possess mortal dwarves so's ta end the fight 'tween 'em once an' fer all.  Bound to mortals, 'twas said, the loser'd die an' stay dead.  Only the priests ha' rigged the field o' battle.   When the two Gods were locked in combat, the two priests caused the floor o' the cavern ta give way, sendin' the Gods' hosts plummetin'.

“
It'd been the plan ta send both Gods inta a hidden vein o' hillfire deep 'neath, but Palo'ak somehow escaped the trap so's only Bracken fell, 'pparently to 'is demise 'cause 'e was ne'er seen 'gain after tha' day.  The story goes tha' Palo'ak, seein' the resolve in the two priests an' divinin' the reason, b'came much wiser an' took her brethren 'way from the dwarves lest they might 'gain try to slay more Gods.”

“
Wait a moment,” interrupted Nathaniel.  “I'll admit I'm kind of new to dealings with the Gods, but I distinctly remember being told recently that Gods do not possess one form, but several, co-existing at the same moment with the same mind.  That each form contains only a part of the essence of the God himself.  So Bracken could not have died just by falling into a pit of lava.  Only that
body
would be destroyed at best, while the essence of the God would have lived on.”

“
Perhaps i' did, Nate.”  Bracken shrugged.  “Palo'ak did take all the r'mainin' Gods 'way.  Perhaps she took Bracken as well.  I c'n only tell ya the legen' as 'twas tol' ta me.  I certainly was no' there.  Nor was any dwarf livin'  Three hundred years is ancient fer a dwarf, Nate, an' this was s'posed ta 'ave 'appened a thousand years 'go.”

Bracken hefted his axe.  “'Course, 'twould not 'count fer this if tha' weren't true,” he said wistfully.

“You really believe that axe belonged to the original Bracken?”

The dwarf nodded.  “I' bears 'is name 'ere on the handle,” he said, indicating what appeared to be some form of runic symbol, “an' considerin' where I foun' it, I canno' b'lieve it ta be other than genu'ne.”

“Sounds like there's another story still behind that,” prompted Nathaniel.

The dwarf gave a heavy sigh.  “Yer the first I've spoken ta 'bout any o' this in near on twen'y years, Nate.  'Bout Bracken, the axe, anythin'.  I lef' all tha' behin' me when I lef' home.  An' I'da jus' as soon seen it stay buried.  Bu' seein's as this may be a longer task'n just a stroll 'cross the Wildeland, I think it best you un'erstand a li'l more of who yer travellin' wit'.”

Nathaniel sat patiently as Bracken stared aimlessly into the fire, the great axe in question lying across his knees.  In this light, he looked more a warrior than Nathaniel had even seen him, even the day the dwarf had gone into a blood rage over his mother's death.  There was a quiet strength in his posture that held more power than any show of physical strength or prowess ever could have.

“
Fer starters, as ya might'a guessed by now, my name's no' Bracken Hillfire.  The first I took from the God 'ose axe I carry, an' the secon' fer wha' 'e was God o'er.  Any dwarf that'd heard the name woulda known straight 'way tha' it was no true name.  There's no Hillfire clan, fer one, and none woulda named their chil' aft'r a dead God withou' wishin' ta curse 'im.  An' the two t'gether were fair blatant stolen from the legend.  Bu' they seemed right ta me, as I ne'er intended ta go back ta the dwarves an' humans woul' not've known the diff'rence.”

Bracken took a deep breath and let it out with a rumbling sigh before continuing.  “I was born Helmen Stonerichter, o' the Kelmic Clan.  My sire, Gelfer Stonerichter, was a pow'rful an' wealthy dwarf in 'is own right.  I was 'is youngest of three sons an' two daughters.  Ya kinda gots ta un'erstan' wha' tha' means ta a dwarf ta un'erstand wha' happened ta me la'er on.

“My two elder brothers woulda inher'ted any titles my father woulda passed down 'pon 'is passin', since by dwarven custom, only the first an' secon' sons were entitled ta inher'tance.  I woulda been 'spected ta break from my family ta make my own way within a dozen 'r so years.

“
Gelfer di' not completely follow custom though, an' i' was well known 'mongst my siblings tha' he intended ta gift title of one o' his lesser mines ta me when the time came fer me ta go out on my own.  I' angered my brothers ta no en', e'en though they stoo' ta inher't each estates ten-fol' richer than my own.  Bu' they woul' have ta wait for our sire ta pass, while I would be workin' my own mine within a dozen years.  I' was the only way my sire could o'ercome the tradition ta assure he could leave me a leg'cy – ta gift the title 'fore 'e passed.”

Bracken cleared his throat.  “All three o' us, my brothers 'n' me, worked in various differen' mines an' i' happened tha' one day, my next eldest brother, Lelferm, an' I were workin' in the mine which I ha' been promised when 'e struck through a wall ta expose a rich vein o' ore tha' none 'ad known was there.  The early guess placed the value o' the load inta such a high value as it woulda almos' equaled my sire's highes' yieldin' vein.  I' was an incred'ble stroke o' fortune, an' it woul' be decades spent extractin' the find.

“Lelfer though' ta hide his discov'ry, ta keep i' from me and our sire.  I came 'pon him tellin' a worker ta seal off the shaft 'e 'ad been workin' and ta tell noone wha' they'd found.  Once I 'ad 'eard 'im though, the secret tha' somethin' worth hidin' was ou' and' he coul' no' keep the discov'ry from our sire.  'E knew that Gelfer woul' preserve the claim fer me, shu' down the mine so's it woul' no' be d'pleted, while Lelfer wished ta fin' a way ta steal the find fer hisself.”

Bracken grunted, almost a scoff at the memory.  “I dinna make it outta th' mine righ' then, as I'd 'tended.  As I b'gan ta leave, my brother – I mus' assume, 'cause I ne'er saw the 'ttack comin' – knocked me col' from behin' there on the mine floor.  By the time I came to, i' was late, an' the workers 'ad all left.”

Bracken paused, screwing up his courage to continue.  “When I go' home, my matron – my mot'er – an' sisters were in tears, an' horr'fied ta see me.  My matron cursed me, askin' how I dared r'turn home af'er wha' I'd done.  The others were ou' lookin' fer me, she 'ad said, an' if I valued my life, I'd best keep on runnin'.

“
I was confused, an' did no' un'erstand why she woul' talk ta me like tha'.  I' was my eldest sister, Gelda, who tol' me tha'...  Gelfer had been foun' wit' my pick in 'is back, beaten an' pummeled ta death.  I 'ad been named murd'rer, worse still sire-slayer.  Lelfer 'ad sworn 'e 'ad seen me leave the mine in anger, fearin' I woul' lose my claim now tha' the mine ha' produced a stronger vein.  O' course, I pleaded my inn'cence an' tried ta tell my side, bu' Gelda forced me ou' the door as my matron started af'er me.