Meta Gods War

by B N Miles

  He stomped through the dust of the track and kicked a rock aside. There was a noise in the forest to his right, but he couldn’t see anything. It sounded like just a squirrel or a rabbit, but he slowed his pace and stepped to the edge of the tree line to get a better look.

  The thick underbrush, tall oak trees, and sunlight slanting from the between the leaves blocked his vision. He gripped his spear tighter and reached for that meditative state his father was always slipping into like a second skin. He tried to wrap it around himself, tried to get the deep dark to cowl him in calm, but as soon as he felt the warm and gentle embrace, it managed to slip away again.

  He let out a breath and turned to follow the column when a scream rang out through the woods.

  For a moment, nothing moved. The people at the far end of the column looked back in alarm. An old woman with a stooped back stepped toward Cam.

  “Stay there,” he shouted to her. “Keep everyone back.”

  Without thinking, he hefted his spear and ran into the forest.

  As he dodged branched and briar patches, he considered that running into the forest alone was probably a bad idea. He should’ve waited for more men to gather at the very least. But someone was in trouble and needed help. Another scream tore through the space, echoing off the trunks. Birds scattered from the branches, taking flight. The scream was close, and Cam trampled through a group of bushes growing at the base of several large trees.

  He broke into a small clearing. Rocks jutted from the earth, making a small island of stone along the perimeter. Cam slowed himself to a walk when he heard the groan. It was coming from the center of the clearing at the very top of the rock formation.

  He climbed slowly, carefully. It wasn’t hard going, the rocks were dry and steady, but he didn’t want to be too exposed in case of an attack. He stepped up to the very top and found a body huddled around itself wearing leather breeches and a dark green tunic stained black with blood.

  Cam ran to the figure, grabbed it, and rolled it over.

  Morcann stared up at him. “Cam,” he gasped.

  “What happened?” Cam placed his spear down next to them and began to pull at Morcann’s clothes.

  He groaned. “Wolves. Two wolves. I was… scouting up here.” He coughed, but no blood splattered from his lips. That was a good thing, at least. “They came out of nowhere.”

  Cam got the tunic open. Deep bites marred his shoulder and chest. There was a claw mark along his back. “Where did they run?”

  Morcann groaned. “I don’t know. I got… stabbed one. But they were too much.”

  “You did good, Morcann, you did good. Just hold on.” Cam used the man’s tunic to try and stem the blood, but there was too much of it. His mind raced, trying to figure out what he could do. Cam knew only basic medicine, just enough to know he had to press hard against a wound to try and stop the blood from coming out. But beyond that he was useless, and he couldn’t drag Morcann back in this state.

  “They came out of nowhere,” he repeated, his eyes fluttering.

  Cam clenched his jaw. He’d lose Morcann if he didn’t do something soon. He leaned back on his haunches and shoved the fear away from him.

  “Help!” he shouted at the top of his lungs. “Out here! Come to me! Help!”

  He knew the shouting might draw the wolves back, but he had to take the risk. He couldn’t carry Morcann alone without getting the man killed, and he couldn’t just leave him alone to bleed out on the rocks. Calling for help from the column was his best bet.

  He shouted again and again as Morcann groaned. The man kept his eyes open, which was another good sign. Cam needed him to remain conscious so he could speak with Dagan and tell him what happened. Cam shouted two more times before he heard the sound of footsteps crashing through the underbrush. He leaned toward the side of the rocks and waved down as four men came bursting into the clearing with Dagan just behind them.

  “Here,” Cam called. “Morcann is hurt.”

  The men scrambled over and climbed up the rocks. There wasn’t much room, but Dagan and Yarin managed to join him. They pressed their hands against Morcann’s wounds and Yarin spoke softly to him as Cam leaned back, his palms slick with blood.

  “What happened?” Dagan asked.

  “Wolves,” Cam said, meeting the Elder’s eye.

  He clenched his jaw and shook his head but said nothing else as they worked to get Morcann down off the rocks. They were careful and carried his weight between them, moving as fast as they could. Morcann groaned with each jostle and shake, his blood dripping down onto the forest floor as they dodged roots and bushes.

  They came back out at the back of the column. Indri was already there, standing with two women Cam recognized but didn’t know well. “Take him to the cart,” Indri said. “Get him down. I need clothe and fresh, clean water. I need my needles and my thread. Go now and hurry.” The women moved first, running off. Dagan grabbed Cam and held him back as the others carried Morcann away, following Indri at a trot.

  “I should help,” Cam said.

  “You’ve done enough already. That man would be dead without you.”

  Cam stared off after them as the column began to grind along, the men on duty prodding the stragglers. Cam shook his head. “I’m not sure I got there in time.”

  “What happened?” Dagan asked again.

  “I heard a scream and went to it,” Cam said. “Found Morcann like that. He said he got ambushed by wolves.”

  “What was he doing up on those rocks?”

  “I don’t know.” Cam shook his head. “He said there were two, but he managed to injure one of them.”

  “Good for him,” Dagan said, frowning. “He was barely fifty yards from the column.”

  “I know,” Cam said. “And it’s the middle of the day.”

  “They’re coming closer. They’re testing us.”

  “Maybe Morcann injuring one of them was good. Maybe they’ll think twice about coming.”

  “Or maybe they’ll come in numbers.” Dagan’s face was tight and he let out a frustrated breath. “You did well, Cam. But next time, don’t go rushing off alone like that. You could’ve gotten yourself killed and left us down a warrior.”

  Cam inclined his head. “I’ll be more careful.”

  Dagan gave him a look and turned away. “Key was looking for you,” he said. “I wouldn’t keep that girl waiting.”

  Cam lifted his chin and smiled as Dagan waved and walked off. He lingered for a moment, watching the procession of the column pull away from him. His palm was slick where he gripped his father’s staff and he realized that he hadn’t calmed down at all since finding Morcann alone on those rocks.

  It was just like his father. The man’s body was punctured from bites, ripped apart from the wolves’ powerful jaws. But Morcann wasn’t as sick as his father—he had a chance to survive. Cam just had to hope he’d gotten there in time to do something.

  He walked after the column and caught up. He took some water from one of the carts, washing off his hands and clothes as best he could before drinking some. He poured a bit over his hair, slicking it back, and washed his face. He had stubble on his face and chin, and he knew he’d have a beard before they reached the Mansion.

  As he turned from the cart and thought of heading back to his guard station, he caught sight of Key coming toward him, walking against the flow of traffic. She had a strange look on her face as she approached, and Cam tilted his head in greeting. She wore her normal tunic, the top button undone, her chest glistening with sweat, and had a brown leather satchel across her back. The strap slid between her breasts and Cam couldn’t help glancing at her body before meeting her eye with a smile.

  She stopped just in front of him. “I heard about Morcann.”

  “Do you know if he’s okay?” Cam’s smile disappeared.

  “Still alive, last I heard.” She let out a breath. “Cam, you can’t just go running off into the woods alone, you know that, right?”

 
; “Dagan already gave me shit for it.” He grinned a little and shrugged. “I know you’re right, though.”

  She gave him a look and stepped closer. “I was worried. When I heard—”

  “I’m fine.”

  She bit her lip. The column was pulling away again, the last stragglers walking past. He caught a look from that old woman, her shawl pulled up around her shoulders. She grinned at him and winked.

  He suppressed a smile.

  “Call for me next time,” she said. “You need a spear by your side.”

  “I will. I couldn’t ask for a better one.” He nudged her a little. “Come on, don’t look so annoyed, Key.”

  She sighed and smiled. “Fine. I’m just on edge. This whole thing’s been…”

  “I know,” he said softly and put a hand on her arm without thinking. She stared up into his eyes. “Dagan said you were looking for me.”

  “Oh,” she said, and pulled a small leather satchel off her back. “I brought you something to eat.” She produced a hunk of dark bread, a small capped horn of warm beer, and a mashed porridge of mixed grain and sliced vegetables.

  “Thanks,” he said, feeling his stomach rumble. He took a bite of the bread and washed it down with a long drink from the beer. “You didn’t have to do that.”

  “You’ve been back here all day. I figured you’d need to eat at some point.”

  He smiled, and without thinking, took her hand. He tugged her along and they began to walk, keeping pace about twenty yards behind the end of the column. He felt like they were alone, just on one of the many walks through the forest they used to take as kids, but now her hand was warm in his and he had beer and bread. Even though Morcann’s blood still stained his tunic, Cam felt a little bit lighter with Key by his side.

  They shared his little meal together, though Cam ate most of it. Key told him about how her parents were dealing with everything, about some petty squabbles between neighbors over rations and sleeping arrangements, about how the village continued to live its life even running from the greatest danger it ever faced.

  “Strange how people can just… go on,” Cam said.

  “What else can they do?” She shook her hand. “We can’t just curl up and pretend the world doesn’t exist when death comes knocking at our door.”

  Cam snorted. “That’s dramatic.”

  “But it’s true. And besides, folks have been ready for this for years. The Godlings have been making more and more war up north, and we always knew it would spill down here eventually.”

  Cam grunted and scanned the tree line as Key packed the horn and bowl back into her satchel. “Do you really think they’re gods?” he asked.

  She started a little. “Who?”

  “The… you know. The Were god. The Shifter god. Do you really think they’re gods? Like the Urspirit?”

  “I don’t know,” Key said, shaking her head. “The Urspirit doesn’t walk in our world like the others do. They’re… something different. We’re taught that we’re all a part of the Urspirit, but the Godlings aren’t actually a part of their god in the same way.”

  Cam grunted. “I regret asking. This is already beyond me.”

  “Don’t pretend to be stupid, Cam,” she said and nudged against him. “Your father used to talk about this all the time.”

  He sighed and looked up at the trees. “I know. He talked all the time about how Humans are all one with the Urspirit and that’s the source of our power. That’s why shamans can all touch the priori, why our sort of magic is unique to us. But if the Urspirit is a true god, then I don’t know how all the others could be the same thing.”

  “I don’t either,” Key admitted. “Did your father ever talk about them?”

  “Not really,” Cam said. “He’d mention the Were god in passing, or the Elf god, or any of the others. He talked about them like they were just… people, great people with great deeds and power, but still people.”

  “And yet Lycanica leads her armies against the world like she owns it.” Key let out a frustrated sigh. “I don’t know what we’re going to do. If we’re really up against gods, how can Humans survive this?”

  Cam shook his head. “We’ve made it this far. We’ll find a way. Some of the Mansions still hold.”

  She squeezed his hand again then released it and said nothing for a time. They walked side by side in a comfortable silence. Cam’s thoughts ranged back to his father and all the lessons they’d gone through. He wished he’d listened more, wished he’d taken more in.

  There was so much he didn’t know. His father had traveled the world, had seen what the Godling armies could do. Cam knew nothing and saw nothing, and yet he was supposed to help save this village from marauding wolves. He didn’t even know what the Weres wanted, or why they were slaughtering and pillaging villages all over the country.

  And the idea that he had any answers about the gods themselves was absurd. As far as he was concerned, a creature like Lycanica was the moon, and he was nothing but an ant.

  “I should get back to my parents,” Key finally said.

  “Thanks for the food.”

  “Sure.” She hesitated a moment, looking into his eyes, and then turned away. “I’ll check on Morcann first and send word back to you.”

  “Thanks,” he said. “I’d appreciate that.”

  She nodded. “Just be careful, okay?”

  “I will.” He smiled. “Why don’t you go get your spear and join me back here? Maybe Theus can get off sentry duty and we can be the rearguard.”

  She laughed. “I think my mother would kill me.” She tilted her head, her hair falling back along her shoulders. She looked so beautiful in the afternoon light and Cam’s breath caught in his chest. Her smile was straight and white, her lips plump and perfect, and he wanted to grab her by the hair and kiss her again. “But it’s either her or the wolves, and I’d rather go down fighting.”

  Cam grinned as she waved and walked off.

  He stayed at his post, bringing up the rear of the column. But as soon as Key was gone, the memory of Morcann’s body came back to him.

  Cam looked at his palms, at the ghostly blood still lingering in the wrinkles of his skin, and let out a breath.

  14

  The day was quiet after Morcann was attacked. The column made decent progress, slowing only twice to push the carts past uneven terrain. They moved through dusk, with lamps hung up high on spears, and into the first hour of darkness before Dagan called a halt and the column broke down into the chaos of its evening tents.

  Cam found a spot near Theus and his family. He shared a meal with them, smiled at the way Theus’s mother scolded her son for eating like an animal. She was a round woman with severe eyes and thick curly hair that was always pulled back in a tight bun. Her name was Morina, but Cam only ever called her Auntie. Theus’s father was on first watch and ate in hurried silence before slipping away, spear in hand.

  “You two need to be careful,” Theus’s mother said as they began to settle for the evening. “I know you’re men now, but you’re still children as far as I’m concerned.”

  “Yes, Auntie,” Cam said and grinned at Theus, who rolled his eyes.

  “Mother, I know this is been hard for you, but—”

  She glared at her son. “Hard for me? I break my damned back carrying water and working the field, and you think walking all day is hard? This has been the best break I could’ve ever hoped for. Now quit pretending to be some big, strong man, and get some sleep. You’re both on second watch.”

  Theus groaned but didn’t snap back and Cam just managed to barely suppress a laugh.

  Cam slept well up until watch came. He thought he’d toss and turn, but sleep came to him like a blanket. He had planned on meditating again, but that didn’t work out. His body was just too tired, and his mind couldn’t find the same focus as the night before.

  Hours slipped past and he woke as Theus’s father returned and nudged them both with his boot. “Watch change,” he grunted a
s he collapsed down on his own bedding.

  Cam said nothing as he got up. Theus groaned, rubbed his eyes, took a deep breath, and climbed to his feet. Cam hefted his father’s spear and frowned at the sleeping forms around them.

  Theus nodded and the pair of them took their positions. Cam was at the back again, and Theus was stationed toward the front right. Cam suspected Dagan was keeping them apart on purpose. Probably a good idea, since together the pair would spend most of the evening joking and talking, and that might not be the best for guards. As it was, the night was deep and quiet, and Cam spent the hours staring at the forest and dreaming about Key’s lips against his.

  Nothing happened as the darkest part of the night passed and the morning began to creep up the horizon. Cam stifled a yawn. His legs were sore and his back ached. He leaned on the spear, the tip gleaming as the first rays of the sun broke through the forest leaves above them, and he watched down the cart path. He could smell the earth and taste the leaves on the tip of his tongue, and for a moment, he felt that strange meditative calm fall over him.

  As he settled into that deep calm, the silence before a scream, something moved down the path. He frowned and tilted his head, his eyes tracking the forest floor and the two dirt cart tracks. He stared as something moved again in the woods to the right then broke out from the cover of the trees to stand directly in front of him, maybe thirty yards away.

  It was a single wolf.

  He stared and it stared back. It didn’t move as Cam took a single step forward. It didn’t snarl, didn’t show its teeth, simply panted and stared. Cam frowned as he took another step forward, and the wolf cocked its head.

  For a long second he thought the world hung suspended. There was no movement, no sound. Then the wolf snarled at him and tensed like it was about to attack, and Cam moved back, lowering his spear, his body instinctively dropping into a defensive position.

  “Wolf!” he cried out, sounding the alarm.