Meta Gods War

by B N Miles

  He looked to Dagan. “Listen to reason,” Cam said. “The Mansion is a four-day journey from here, maybe three if we push hard. If we leave tonight, under the cover of darkness, we can make good time and put plenty of distance between us and any Were packs still roaming the countryside. If we can reach the Mansion, we’ll be safe, and perhaps we can even bring more warriors back to the village to clear it of any stray packs. But if we stay, we’re trapped in these walls, and we’ll never have another chance to leave again.”

  Dagan frowned at Cam and lowered his head for a moment.

  “Foolish boy,” Arter spat. “We’ll never make it four days with roaming packs around here. We have women, children, and the old.”

  “We have ox carts and strong warriors,” Key said. “Pile the young and the old in the carts, and our men can guard the caravan as we travel.”

  Arter snorted. “I was wondering when your little whore would speak up,” he said.

  Cam stepped forward, rage flowing through him. He saw the men behind Arter recoil in shock, and several of them looked angry. Dagan moved forward faster than Cam and grabbed Arter by the front of his leather vest.

  “You will apologize to Key,” he said, blocking Cam’s advance.

  “Take your hands off me, Elder Dagan,” Arter said.

  “If you make me ask again, I will let Cam handle you as he sees fit.” Dagan didn’t move. “Apologize to the girl.”

  Arter didn’t move. Cam watched the men nearby shift from foot to foot, uncomfortable at the display. Arter never should have spoken to Key in such a manner, but to see Dagan call him out and force him to apologize to a young girl like that was a deep dishonor.

  “I apologize, Key,” Arter said. “I was out of control.”

  Key inclined her head, though her eyes were still sharp. “I accept your apology, Elder. I know tensions are high right now.”

  Dagan released Arter and shook his head. “We can’t make a decision right now,” he said. “Morcann, Kenden, and Godug, come here.” Three men stepped forward, each of them broad and weather-beaten, with dark hair and eyes. Morcann smiled at Cam and nodded before turning his attention to Dagan. “I need you three to go scouting around the village. Roam out as far as you can while there’s still light. Find the outlying farmsteads and see what they’ve heard.”

  The three men nodded, turned, and trotted away. Arter crossed his arms over his chest and glared at Dagan but said nothing more.

  “I need half of you on the walls,” Dagan continued. “Two men every thirty paces. The other half will take tonight’s watch. Figure it out among yourselves but don’t waste time.” Dagan watched as the group of men turned away from the spectacle and began to speak, a low murmur taking over the square.

  Cam stood seething and stared at Arter. He wanted to rip the man’s skull from his shoulders, but he knew calling him out in front of the village would be a mistake. Even if he won, he would be beating an old man and it wouldn’t prove a thing. He turned away and looked at Key. “I’m sorry,” he said.

  “No need. Arter’s a warty cock.”

  Theus snorted. “Gross. Hey, I should go join the men.”

  Cam shook his head. “No,” he said. “Come with me.” He turned and found Dagan speaking with a small group of warriors, each armed with a long spear. He approached the Elder and caught his attention. Dagan came over and stood with Key, Theus, and Cam away from the group as men began to disperse toward the walls.

  “That didn’t go as I hoped,” Dagan said, shaking his head. “I’m afraid Arter is going to be difficult to convince. He has too much at stake here.”

  “He has the largest, most productive farmland here,” Key agreed. “But we can’t all die for his greed.”

  Dagan sighed. “You’re right. But convincing the village to leave everything they’ve known will be hard.”

  “The longer we wait here, the harder the journey will be,” Cam said. “If we don’t begin gathering men and women right now, we’ll just give the Weres more time to catch up.”

  “I know it,” Dagan said then tilted his head in Cam’s direction. “I believe you can convince most of them. But the others won’t move a muscle without the approval of the Elders. Arter won’t listen, and Kraed…” Dagan trailed off with a shrug. “Who knows where he is.”

  Theus glanced at Key then sighed. “We’ll find him.”

  “All three of us will,” Cam added. “And we’ll convince him that we need to get moving.”

  Dagan shook his head. “Good luck with that. If there ever was a lazier man, I’ve never met one.” Dagan’s eyes lingered on Cam for a moment until the older man put a hand on his shoulder. “Are you okay, son?” he asked.

  Cam nodded. “I’m good.”

  “Your father…” Dagan shook his head. “To say he was a good man wouldn’t be enough. He saved this village and helped it grow beyond what I ever thought possible. He’s greatly missed already.”

  “Thank you,” Cam said.

  Dagan nodded and took his hand back. “I agree with you that we need to abandon the village, as difficult as that might be. Lives are precious, but objects can be replaced.” He looked back across the buildings toward the men beginning to break up into groups. Some wandered toward the walls while others lingered in the square, speaking to each other in low voices. “I’ll speak to the men. Try and convince as many as I can.”

  “Do what you can,” Cam said.

  “We’ll find Kraed,” Key added.

  Dagan raised a hand. “Good luck.” He stalked off to join the others.

  Cam watched him go then shook his head. “I knew Arter would be a problem, but I didn’t expect that much resistance,” he said.

  “People don’t want to leave their village.” Theus chewed his cheek for a moment. “I can understand it. The trip will be hard, and we have good walls here.”

  Cam met his friend’s gaze and nodded. “I know it. But you know as well as I do that Weres don’t just travel in small packs. We’ve been hearing the rumors for years now, and it’s time to accept that they’re moving south.”

  Theus sighed and nodded. “I know, I know.”

  “Come on,” Key said. “You two can bicker all afternoon if you want, but we need to find Kraed.”

  “Do you have any clue where the old drunk’s hiding?” Cam asked.

  She smiled and shrugged. “I have a pretty good guess. Come on.” Without another word, she stalked off. Cam watched her go and Theus lingered beside him.

  “Better obey,” Theus said, keeping his voice low. “Else Mistress Key will get angry.”

  Cam smiled a little. They’d joked about Key’s intensity for years, but for some reason the joke felt flat and silly to him now. Key’s steadfastness, her stubbornness, her strength all seemed like traits he valued and cared about, not things he feared anymore. Not after what he’d seen today.

  “Come on, dungskull,” Cam said and stalked off after Key. Theus laughed and hurried to keep up.

  7

  Key led them through the closely packed wooden homes. Cam caught sight of anxious-looking women and children, huddled on their porches, not speaking. Their eyes told Cam everything he needed to know, though. News of what had happened to his father had clearly spread.

  It was bound to happen. They couldn’t keep something that important from the village, even if it might cause panic.

  Cam caught up with Key as they reached the far wall. “Where are you going?” he asked.

  She grinned at him and walked along the earthworks until she reached the grain gate. It was a much smaller gate, just big enough to allow two men through. It was used for the field hands to enter the village, and was typically left open and unbarred. Today was no exception, although Cam knew they’d have to shut and lock it sooner or later once everyone had come in from the fields.

  “Kraed is a lazy old drunk,” she said as she slipped out of the grain gate. “And he loves shade and quiet more than anything else.”

  Cam and Theu
s closely followed her. Ahead, down a grassy slope, farmstead fields stretched into the distance along a rolling valley between two hilly forests. Members of the village owned the fields, and they allowed others to work them in exchange for a fair share of the crops. After the main bulk of the crops were taken to the Mansion, the remains were split up between the villagers that worked the fields and the owners. Some owners were fair, and kept only as much as their workers did, and some owners kept a little bit more, but overall there were few complaints each year.

  She took them along the edge of the closest field, owned by a man named Yarin, and took them through the knee-high grass toward the closest copse of trees. They grew in close patches, their branches reaching skyward, casting long shadows along the grassy land. Key walked along the outskirt of the forest until she came to a stop and pointed.

  “Look,” she said.

  Cam followed her gaze and frowned. He spotted a body reclined up against the base of a tree, wrapped in a heavy travel cloak made from spun wool with mottled blue and black patches stitched over holes. He laughed and shook his head as he recognized the cloak. “Come on. How did you know?”

  “He’s been working Yarin’s field lately,” she said. “Since it’s closest. And I figured he’d be drunk by now, so…” She trailed off and shrugged.

  “Good guess,” Theus said with a grin. “Come on. Let’s go wake the old bastard up.”

  Cam strode forward and his friends followed. Kraed was mostly hidden beneath his heavy travel cloak, but the old man’s face still poked up from beneath it. He had a gray scraggly beard and he snored like a pig through his big, thick nose. Cam nudged the Elder’s feet with his boots until the man took a few sharp snorts and his eyes fluttered open. They were a light blue, almost startling in their clarity, and he shifted against the bark.

  “The hell do you want?” he grumbled. “I was having a beautiful dream. Some Elven wenches were raising me up on a golden platform, untying my breeches and preparing to—”

  “Elder Kraed,” Key interrupted before the old man could go into detail. “There’s been an incident back at the village.”

  He grunted and wrapped the cloak tighter around him. “Get Dagan. He loves that shit.”

  “Kraed.” Cam knelt next to him, grabbed the cloak, and ripped it away.

  He sputtered and stared in surprised. Cam tossed the cloak aside and looked down at the thin, frail old man. He wore his tunic unbuttoned at the top, his hairy chest poking out from beneath it. The tunic was stained from years of neglect and drink, and his breeches weren’t much better. They’d been patched over countless times, and it was hard to tell the breeches’ original material. His boots were solid though, since he’d used his crop share from the year before to trade for a new pair once his old ones began to rot off his feet.

  “Young man, if you don’t return that cloak, I’ll—”

  “Kraed,” Cam snapped. “My father and I were attacked earlier.”

  He frowned a little. “You were out hunting, yes?”

  Cam nodded. “In the woods north of here, along the bubbling stream.”

  Kraed grunted. “Attacked by whom?”

  “Weres,” Cam said.

  The Elder stared for a long moment then sighed. He reached over and shoved his hands in a pile of leaves until he removed a jug with a clay stopper in the top. He pulled out the stop and poured some of the liquid down his throat.

  Cam glanced back at Key and she shook her head. Theus stood a few feet away, his arms crossed over his chest, eyes scanning the distance. Cam turned back to Kraed. “We need your help,” he said.

  “And what could I do about some Weres?” he asked. “Just as likely to die as to help.”

  “My father managed to take care of the ones that attacked us, but he—” Cam stopped himself and looked away.

  Key spoke up. “He fell to them,” she said gently.

  Kraed frowned at Cam for a long moment and sighed again. He took a long drink then held the jug out to Cam. “Your father was a dick sometimes, you know that?”

  Cam stared at Kraed and Key gasped. A long, tense moment passed in silence, and then Cam took the jug from Kraed and drank it. He laughed once the burning grain wine washed down his throat.

  “Sometimes,” Cam agreed. “He used to make me sit in the square and do my meditation all afternoon, especially when I didn’t want to.”

  Kraed smiled. “Made you strong, though.”

  Cam passed the jug back. Kraed stoppered it and hid it back in the leaves.

  “I don’t know. Took a lot of time.”

  “Ah, maybe. Your father was an ass sometimes. But he loved you fiercely.” Kraed frowned. “How’d it happen?”

  “He wasn’t fast enough,” Cam said. “Killed the wolves, though.”

  Kraed nodded. “Even sick, that man was a force. He’ll be missed, you know. I bet he’s with the Urspirit now, taking charge of all Humanity.”

  Cam grinned a little. “I bet you’re right.”

  Kraed gave him a crooked smile then shifted his weight and sat up straight. “So what do you want me to do about all of this?” he asked.

  Cam rocked back onto his feet and shook his head. “Arter wants to make a stand at the village. Dagan agrees with me, that we need to leave and make a run for the Mansion. I need you to break the tie.”

  “Ah,” Kraed said. “And you think I’d agree to some foolish exodus from our big, stout walls?”

  Cam’s jaw tensed. “I think you pretend to be an old, stupid drunk so that people will leave you alone. But I know that you’re sharp, and you realize we can’t hold this village for long. Sooner or later, we’ll be overrun. If the Weres are this far south, a single village can’t hold forever, no matter how big its walls are.”

  Cam felt Key shift behind him and knew that he’d spoken a little too bluntly, but he couldn’t help himself. He was so angry at the world, and besides, if he couldn’t be honest with Kraed, he couldn’t be honest with any man.

  Kraed merely nodded. “And you think now is our only opportunity.”

  “Better now than waiting for the countryside to be overrun,” Cam said.

  Kraed sighed. “I hate marching. Do you know the last time I marched?”

  “I’m guessing never,” Cam said.

  “Damned right.” Kraed leaned his head back against the tree. “Arter will be furious. Can you imagine giving up the best farm in the area?”

  “I can, if it means keeping my life.”

  Kraed snorted. “Try explaining that to Arter. The man can’t conceptualize anything beyond his stupid pig nose.”

  “Cam,” Theus said suddenly. “Look at this.”

  Cam turned away from Kraed as the old man began to struggle to his feet. He stood and joined Theus as Key came over to them. He followed Theus’s eyes and squinted with a frown for a long moment before he spotted it.

  Smoke, drifting up into the sky.

  “How far?” Key asked.

  “Far,” Theus said. “I’d guess the edge of our farms, maybe further. Could be Makon village.”

  “Makon’s a full day from here,” Cam said.

  “Might be nothing,” Key suggested. “Just some farmer burning…” She trailed off when she couldn’t think of something that would produce so much smoke.

  Cam touched her shoulder. “Get back to the village,” he said. “Tell Dagan.”

  She looked up at him and lingered for a moment before nodding. She turned and sprinted off. Cam watched her go then turned back to Kraed. The old man was on his feet, one hand on the small of his back, his cloak thrown over his shoulder.

  “This better be good,” he grumbled as he staggered toward Theus and Cam. “I hope you boys aren’t pulling one over on me.”

  Cam shook his head. “I wouldn’t joke about my father like that,” he said.

  Kraed sighed. “I thought as much. Come on then, come on. Let’s go tell Arter that he’s an old stupid pig shit with dung between his ears.”

  Th
eus grinned at Cam and laughed. “He’ll like that,” he said.

  Cam just nodded and looked back out at the smoke in the far distance. He watched it curve gracefully into the air for a moment as Kraed and Theus began to walk back to the village. He lingered there, knowing that his world was about to change even more. Everything he’d known until this moment, everything he thought was true and immutable, was about to be torn asunder.

  He shook his head, turned, and headed off.

  8

  Cam expected to see commotion in the village as he returned with Key, Theus, and Kraed. The Elder was staggering along with his cloak thrown over one shoulder and the clay jug of alcohol tucked under his arm. He whistled a tuneless song that Cam couldn’t place, but he wished the old bastard would just be quiet. The sound grated against his nerves, which were already fried to begin with.

  Key came up next to him and put a hand on his shoulder as they slipped in through the grain gate. “You okay?” she asked, keeping her voice quiet.

  “I’m fine,” Cam lied. “Holding it together.”

  “Cam, if you—”

  He shook his head and forced himself to smile at Key. “I’ll be fine. Right now, we need to get everyone moving. I can… I can deal with things later.”

  She frowned for a moment and dropped her hand before nodding.

  They moved past the wooden houses. More women were out on their porches, wearing long, woolen skirts and loose tunics, similar to the ones men wore. Their colors tended to be softer, lighter grays, blues, browns, and greens. The tunics buttoned up the front with small bone buttons, though some of the wealthier women had copper buttons.

  There wasn’t much wealth disparity in the village, thanks to the Mansion system, and Cam knew what wealth tended to exist only allowed for very minor luxuries. But those luxuries took on a greater meaning than they might have otherwise, and those stupid copper buttons had taken on a form of social status.