The Godling Chronicles: A Trial of Souls (Book 4)

by Anderson, Brian D.

  Yanti eyed him skeptically before lifting the lid. One glance was sufficient. With a gasp he pushed the box away and leapt to his feet. “Where did you get that?”

  “It was unearthed when we were building an outpost near Hazrah,” he replied, amused by Yanti’s reaction. “I am surprised you are so upset.”

  “Do you know what that is?” Yanti stepped forward and looked inside once again. “Have you any idea what that could do to you?”

  The Vrykol reached into the box and took out a tiny crystal dart, no longer than his little finger. Only their keen eyes could see the symbols of the nine gods etched along the shaft. At the tip was a shard of gleaming steel, and though the metal itself was barely visible, it shone bright and steady as the noonday sun.

  “Be careful with that you fool!” shouted Yanti.

  The Vrykol smiled, tilting his head and feigning innocence. “It would seem the mighty Yanti is not without fear after all. And to think that such a little thing could cause you to tremble.” He lifted the dart in front of his face for a few seconds before returning it to the box.

  Yanti sat back down, visibly shaken. “I have good reason to fear. And that you do not only shows me your ignorance.”

  “Then perhaps you will enlighten me,” it mocked. “Being that you are so wise and powerful.”

  Yanti’s hatred boiled. It was taking a supreme effort just to stop himself from killing the creature. “That is one of the Fangs of Yajna. If you so much as touch the tip...”

  “Unlike you,” interrupted the Vrykol. “I do not fear death.”

  “Death?” Yanti huffed and shook his head. “It will not be death that you will face, you fool. Your spirit will be sent to a place where even the gods fear to tread. It is a realm of eternal torment and horror made at the beginning of time by the Creator herself.” His eyes remained fixed on the box. “No…it is not death that I fear.”

  The Vrykol laughed. “You believe those tales? If such a place really exists, it is unknown to anyone but you. More likely it’s a story told to scare young children.”

  Leaning forward, Yanti leveled his gaze at the Vrykol. “There are only two beings on this earth older than I, both of whom I am now commanded to seek. And only Felsafell is my true elder. I have seen things beyond your limited imagination - powers so great that they shook the foundations of the world. I was there when the Sword of Truth was forged in the fires of creation and Amon Dähl set to be its protector.” His eyes blazed. “To me you are but a speck, and that you doubt what I say matters not in the least.” He rose from his chair. “I no longer wish to speak with such a fool. If there is nothing more, you can leave.”

  The Vrykol stood, scooped up the box, and walked to the door. “One last thing,” it said, smiling. “If I were you, I wouldn’t fail again. I would hate to see anything happen to...” It paused, ominously. “You know...one of my own kind.”

  The instant the door closed, Yanti’s temper exploded. Picking up his chair, he hurled it across the room, smashing it to splinters against the far wall. Only a moment later he sighed with regret for having destroyed such a beautiful thing. He sat down in the other chair and closed his eyes. A second sigh quickly followed.

  He called out to her with his mind. “Sister, you should have stayed hidden.” He felt her spirit. It was full of sadness and pity.

  “I am sorry, brother,” came back her reply. “And I love you. No matter what has been done to you, or what you have done to others, I will always love you.”

  A single tear fell down Yanti’s cheek. He wiped it away and then stared at his wet finger as if he had never seen a tear before. Slowly his sorrow turned into rage. Springing up from his seat, he retrieved his sword.

  “I am coming,” he muttered. “Perhaps to both our ends.”

  Storming out of the house, he walked with long even strides into the village. Fearful stares followed him as he passed the villagers on the street. With each step his bloodlust was growing and his desire to destroy Sharpstone was nearing obsession. This was the fault of the godling. All of it. And rather than have the joy of killing him, he must now hunt down and destroy the one person he had long ago sworn to protect - an oath he was now being forced to break.

  As he reached the market and entrance to the docks, he paused to look back. He knew he could track down the Vrykol and steal the dart. It could be he who defeated Darshan, not that mongrel. He could return with his ravaged body and hang it right here in the market square for all to see.

  Yanti took a step back the way he had come. “Yes,” he whispered. “I will be the one.”

  A searing pain shot through his head, forcing him to his knees.

  Do not defy me!

  The voice felt as if it would shatter his skull. He let out a primal scream. His fists pounded into the slate, sending shards of rock flying.

  “Are you alright?”

  Yanti felt a withered hand touching his shoulder. He looked up to see an old man looking at him with kind eyes.

  “Do you need help?” he asked.

  Rising quickly, Yanti drew his sword and ran it straight through the old man’s gullet. There was barely time for a gasp and a gurgle before the man slumped into Yanti’s arms. Throwing the body to the ground, he hurried to the docks where a cargo vessel from Baltria had just finished unloading.

  “Cast off,” he commanded as he stepped aboard.

  A skinny deckhand stepped forward nervously, noting the bloody sword still in Yanti’s hand. “The captain isn’t back yet from...” His voice cracked and faded as each word came out.

  Yanti took a step, his eyes ablaze.

  “Yes, my lord,” the deckhand said, hurrying away.

  In less than a minute the boat was off the docks and heading down river, Yanti standing on the bow.

  “I’m coming.” He sent his thoughts once more before closing his mind from his sister’s view.

  Chapter 26

  Lee sat atop a hill gazing down at the elf army. Music and laughter filled his ears as the wedding celebration reached its third hour. He had tried to join in, but thoughts of his wife tormented him.

  He saw Jacob approaching, a bottle of wine in each hand and a broad grin on his face. Forcing his melancholy aside, he waved to his son.

  “Why did you leave the party?” asked Jacob, plopping down beside him.

  “I suppose I’m just getting old,” he lied.

  Jacob nodded and sighed. “It’s mother, isn’t it?”

  Lee put his arm around his son, his eyes far away. “It just reminds me of our wedding day. The entire city turned out to celebrate. It was the grandest wedding Hazrah had ever seen.”

  “People still talk about it,” said Jacob. “They say you spent half of your fortune on that one day.”

  Lee chuckled. “That may be a bit of an exaggeration. But your mother was worth it. I wanted to impress her so much. She had left everything behind to be with me, and I was afraid she would be disappointed with life in such a remote city. I wanted to show her that I could give her anything she desired.”

  Jacob laughed. “I can only imagine what she must have thought. She was never one to hold wealth as important. By the time I came of age she had given away most everything we owned helping the poor.” His laughter went away. “I called her a fool for that.”

  There was a brief silence as they both contemplated their personal memories. Lee then grabbed one of the bottles from Jacob and took a long drink. “She always did have a kind heart. When I first met her, Millet told me that she was far above my station. Did you know that her family had land holdings in all five of the Eastland kingdoms? As rich as I was, they made me look like a pauper. But that’s not what he meant by above my station.”

  “She never spoke of her father,” said Jacob. “Or anyone else in her family.”

  Lee took another drink. “I’m not surprised. They disowned her when she decided to marry me. Her father even tried to have me killed. I can’t say I blame him for that. I was actually a lot li
ke you.” He grinned. “Only even more arrogant and foolhardy.”

  “Millet has told me,” said Jacob, smiling. “He said that it is a miracle you survived.”

  “He’s not wrong,” said Lee. “But don’t let his overblown sense of responsibility fool you. He has had his own moments of reckless abandon. He even fell in love once.”

  Jacob raised an eyebrow. “Millet? In love? What happened?”

  “She married another,” replied Lee. “It broke his heart.”

  Jacob shook his head with bewilderment. “I can’t imagine Millet in love. He seems so cold and unemotional.”

  This time it was Lee who raised an eyebrow. “Millet is anything but that. His passions run deep and his friendship is unwavering. The woman he loved, loved him in return. But her family had chosen another.”

  “If she had loved him as mother loved you,” said Jacob, “surely she would have ignored them and married him anyway.”

  “It wasn’t that simple,” said Lee. “The woman’s family was in debt and nearly ruined. Her marriage to this other man was the only thing that could save them. Millet sacrificed his own happiness for the good of others.”

  “Just as you did,” Jacob remarked solemnly. He paused for a moment before adding: “You told me that the Reborn King may have brought mother back. Is it possible she can be saved?”

  Lee shook his head. “No. If it is true then she is little more than a slave with her soul subject to the whim of the Dark Knight. Her only salvation will be his death.”

  “What about Gewey?” asked Jacob, hope rising in his voice. “Could he save her?”

  “I don’t know,” Lee replied. “Perhaps. Perhaps not. I have thought long on this. If I could bring her to him he might be able to do something, but I have no idea how to accomplish this. A return to Angrääl would only result in my capture, and that wouldn’t help her at all. And I can’t ask Gewey to risk everything by going there himself.” He closed his eyes. “I can only hope that in the end I find a way to save her.”

  Jacob chuckled softly.

  “What’s funny?” asked Lee.

  “I hated you for so long,” he replied. “I never imagined I’d be able to forgive you for abandoning us. Now all I think about is how I don’t want you to die too.”

  Lee pulled his son close and embraced him. “That means more to me than you can understand. And I wish I could tell you I’ll survive this war, but fate may have other plans.”

  They sat drinking their wine until they saw Millet coming up the hill looking unusually cheerful. He snatched the bottle from Lee and took a long swallow.

  “You may have heard, Jacob, that lords of the house Nal’Thain are notorious drinkers,” joked Lee. “It is good to see that our reputation is secure.”

  Millet tossed Lee the bottle. “I doubt I could ever match your escapades.” He groaned as he sat down. “Did you know that your father was one of the most loved and yet hated men in all of Hazrah? Before he met your mother, every woman in the city swooned whenever he passed by, and not all of them unmarried maidens. He must have given out a king’s ransom in gifts by way of apologizing for his misdeeds. It was a good thing he was rich.”

  “Millet,” said Lee. “I can’t remember the last time you were this drunk.”

  “We all cope in our own way,” he replied, his face turning serious. “I know why you came up here alone. I mourn her too.” He smiled at Jacob. “Another thing you may not know about your father is that when he met your mother, not a single woman in the city dared hope to catch his eye again. This would have made him very popular with the men if not for the fact that your mother was by far the most beautiful, kind, and graceful woman they had ever seen. The luckiest lord in Hazrah they called him - and they were right.” A tear fell down his cheek. “I loved her as well, you know.”

  “I know,” said Lee, a sad smile forming. “And she loved you in return.”

  Millet wiped his eyes and cleared his throat. “But that is not the reason why I climbed this bloody big hill. Linis and Dina are to be bonded, and Dina’s mother expects us to be there.”

  “Bonded?” said Jacob. “Didn’t we just see them married a few hours ago?”

  “This is different,” explained Millet. “The elves of the west are able to bond their spirits together as one. The desert elves don’t - or can’t – do this; I’m not sure which. But whatever the case, they’re gathering not far from here, and you, Lee Starfinder, have the honor of standing by Linis’ side.”

  “I may have missed Gewey’s bonding,” said Lee. “But I will certainly not miss this as well.”

  Millet stood up, albeit on slightly unsteady legs, to lead Lee and Jacob down the slope and around the edge of the encampment. To the west, atop another hill, Lee could see Linis and Dina standing beside Dina’s mother. They were dressed in tan cotton robes with stitching that formed blue angular patterns. Linis wore a matching blue sash around his waist, while Dina had delicate yellow flowers adorning her hair. Nahali was wearing a long flowing black dress with a blood red belt. In her hands she held a small, gold-handled dagger.

  Lee bowed respectfully as they crested the slope.

  “No need for such formality,” said Linis. He gave Lee a rough, friendly embrace. “I am happy you are here, my friend.” He looked at Millet and Jacob. “And you as well.”

  Lee reached out and took hold of Dina’s hand. “You are a vision of beauty.”

  She leaned in to kiss him on the cheek. “Thank you. Though I do wish I had brought along something more appropriate to wear.”

  “Nonsense,” Millet interjected. “You have never looked lovelier.”

  She smiled before kissing him on the cheek as well. “I see you have been enjoying the celebration.”

  Millet blushed and lowered his eyes. “Forgive me. I may have taken just a bit too much wine.”

  Dina’s laugh was light and sweet. “Not at all, my dear friend. This is the happiest day of my life; I want you to drink and be merry. There should be no sad faces tonight.” She looked at Jacob. “And I am honored that you are here too, Jacob.”

  Jacob bowed low. “The honor is mine.”

  Lee took his place beside Linis, and Millet beside Dina, while Jacob stood a few feet away. Lee couldn’t help but envy Linis as the couple dropped to their knees and Nahali performed the ceremony. Once the final ancient word was spoken he could see a visible change in them both. It was as if their love had instantly multiplied many times over and their understanding of each other had become infinite. Slowly, they rose up. With a tender smile, Nahali took their hands and led them away into the night.

  “A marriage tent was erected just before the celebration began,” remarked Millet. “I suggest we return to the others. I hear Bevaris has challenged Weila to a wrestling match.”

  “I would like to see that,” said Lee, smiling.

  Ignoring the fact that Linis and Dina were no longer present, the celebrations continued well into the night. In the desert elves’ eyes, the wedding ceremony that had taken place earlier had been a mere formality. They were far less constricted by dogma and tradition than the elves of the west, or even humans for that matter. To them, all that really mattered was mutual consent. Weila had told Lee that many marriages were performed while traveling in the desert, and that it was the celebration of the union that was most important. This was normally held within a month of the marriage, as it is not always practical to do so right away. Lee liked the way they did things. It seemed somehow innocent and wholesome.

  Bevaris did indeed wrestle Weila - losing three out of four bouts. This spawned a dozen more good natured challenges. Lee refused several times before finally agreeing to wrestle a young dark haired youth. The elves were impressed when he won quite easily, and cheers of admiration and friendship were called to him long after the sport was over.

  A few hours before dawn the music finally ceased and everyone bedded down for what remained of the night. Millet had continued enjoying the wine right until t
he end, so Lee and Jacob helped him to a small area close to the edge of the camp. After Lee had settled into his own bedroll he looked over to Millet and Jacob, both of who were already fast asleep. He regretted the burden he had thrust upon Millet. Being lord of the house Nal’Thain was not a responsibility he would have wished on anyone in such dark times. Yet Millet was truly the only one who could bear it.

  “Lord Starfinder,” came a voice from a few yards away.

  Lee rolled over and saw an elf sentry, his face grave. He sighed before sitting up. “Is something wrong?”

  He nodded sharply. “A spy has been captured just outside of the camp.”

  Lee quickly got up and fastened his sword to his belt. “Where is he?”

  “A few hundred yards to the west,” the sentry replied. “He is being held there until it’s decided what to do with him.”

  “Then I will go there immediately,” Lee said. “Meanwhile, have some of your people surround Linis and Dina’s tent. Do not get too close. I don’t want them disturbed on their wedding night unless there’s no other choice.”

  The elf sped off to do his bidding while Lee headed to the western edge of the camp. Atop a low hill he could see three elf sentries with swords drawn. They were standing guard over a dark haired man wearing a jet-black shirt and pants. The prisoner’s pale face was smeared with charcoal and soot. His eyes were wide with fear. As Lee approached, one of the elves stepped forward and bowed.

  “We caught him spying,” he said.

  Lee nodded, then squatted down in front of the terrified man. “What are you doing here?” His voice was hard and menacing. “Speak now!”

  “I...I was sent by King Luccia,” he stammered, his fearful eyes never leaving the elves. “We had heard of an invasion coming from the east.”

  Lee rubbed his chin. “And who told your king this?”

  “I don’t know,” he replied. “I just came to see if it was true. That’s all.”

  Lee looked up at the elves. “He speaks the truth. Leave us.”

  At once, the elves set off down the hill.