Duty Calls: The Reluctant War God Book 1

by Bill D. Allen

  He giggled. “Oh come on, it was funny.”

  “No, not funny. Funny will be when I rip off your head and shit down your neck. Then it will be funny. You running around like a chicken coughing shit out of your neck hole.”

  “Obviously we have very different senses of humor. But, you being a war god and all, I suppose it’s inevitable.”

  “What do you want? Because if like dear sister Nanaya, that bitch Enyo and brother Yond you want me to take up the Bright Sword, this is no way to get on my good side.”

  Kevin rolled his eyes. “I’m certainly not doing any worse than they did. You almost came to blows with Yond, Enyo had her blood on your lips and Nanaya left screaming she hoped your girlfriend rotted away to dust. I’m just cutting to the chase.”

  “Change them back.”

  “What, your undies? Do it yourself.”

  “I don’t keep an extra pair of underwear. I keep gold, weapons, that sort of stuff stashed nearby, but I never thought to put away some underwear.”

  “Bet you will from now on.”

  “I may. But for the moment, change them back.”

  Kevin sighed. “Oh well, fine.” He gave his hand a quick wave in my direction. I felt a slight shift, so I opened my pants and looked. Simple, straight, white cotton underwear.

  “Most people don’t even wear those, you know. You are odd enough already. The silk just gave you some style.”

  “I’ve been enough places to pick up the habit. Now we have that taken care of, tell me what you have to say and begone.”

  Kevin walked over to a barrel and sat down. “Actually, brother Carl, I’m here on my own. I don’t have other agenda. I know what father wants. I’ve been acting as the messenger boy as usual. I wouldn’t blame you if you told us to go to hell. He’s toyed with us all in the past and we’re all bitter over it.”

  “Good, consider it said.”

  Kevin shook a finger at me. “But I also know you. Why do you bother to attempt to escape your destiny? Sooner or later you’ll be forced to take up the sword. Why not take it up now so you can use it to better benefit these poor people? They’re the ones you care about, not the gods.”

  “How does the sword benefit them? Blind them with some ignorant faith in an afterlife which doesn’t exist so they can fight more effectively? Sure, I can slay as many men as I come in contact with, but it won’t make any real difference to the outcome of the battle. For every man that fights better because I’m there, there’ll be another who fights foolishly because he thinks I am protecting him. At the end of the day it doesn’t matter. It all evens out.”

  “But with the sword all of the gods could join forces in battle, our power would flow through you. As it stands now, we can only watch from the sidelines. What little we could do would be meaningless. You’ve turned the tide of battle many times, how can you say it won’t matter now?”

  “The reason I won campaigns in the old days was mainly because of superior numbers. I spend months gathering armies, building them up and drugging them with the opium of religious zealotry.

  “We also won because we were bloodthirsty, cruel, and unforgiving, but mainly because there was a butt load of us. I don’t have that kind of time here, and I don’t have the stomach anymore to tear up civilization and replace it with a barbarous religion.”

  “Well, there sure won’t be much civilization left after Jegu gets done with it. As I said, I know you brother. I know when men start dying around you things will change within your mind. You can’t allow it to happen. You will draw the blade and your power will come upon you and you will strike back with every fiber of your being. There is no escaping it. Why don’t you start now and maybe save some lives? Do it with a clear head, not in a desperate panic or a blind rage. You may have more self-control than you realize.”

  I nodded. It sounded really good. Except I knew who was saying it. “This from the same man who convinced Yond to stick his tongue on the Frostbrand sword.”

  “Now, that was funny. You can’t deny it.”

  I thought about it. The outrage, the laughter, the lisped curses after Yond extricated himself.

  “Okay, I’ll agree with you there.”

  He smirked. “There is hope for your sense of humor.”

  “Aye, but no hope for the sword. You underestimate me. I’ve lived a long time as close to being mortal as is possible for a god. I’ve changed.”

  Kevin smirked. “I think you underestimate yourself. You’ve changed, Brother Carl…Kaltron, but I don’t think you’ve changed so much you can bear to watch this slaughter take place and do nothing. You care too much. You’ll have to do something. All I am asking is that you do it with a clear sense of purpose and perhaps you can become what you want to be and still be a god.”

  I shook my head. “I will do something, but I won’t lead these men into battle. I may fight and die, but I won’t lead even one more human being into the jaws of death for a lie.”

  “But what of the truth? Jegu is real. He is evil. The future of mankind rests on his defeat. Is that not truth enough to fight for?”

  “Are we really fighting for mankind, or ourselves? The herald of Jegu offered peace today. Humanity could survive without us. If they forsake us, their gods, Jegu will spare them. Isn’t that a more sensible solution?”

  “We are more than what we appear, you and I. We are more than we can imagine. We represent something very important to these mortals, something within themselves. You’ve seen what Jegu is capable of. He consumes the very souls of these mortals. He seems to gain power from it. Do you think he’d stop doing this just because they give up? He’d have a world full of people he could harvest at the moment of their deaths. What good is life if your soul is forfeit?”

  “I don’t know. I’m not even sure what the soul really is.”

  “There has been talk among the gods, that Jegu is a true god of a race of beings far more powerful than ourselves. That someone—one of us, has opened a doorway to chaos and Jegu stepped out of it. Do you know anything about it?”

  I thought of Yond’s reluctance, his secretive and angry responses, Yond definitely knew something. But answered “No.” There was no sense causing a family feud.

  Kevin raised his hands. “Oh well, I had to ask. I’m not really interested one way or the other, but Father would want to know.”

  “Is Father going to send everyone to harass me?”

  “No, I’m the last, and I came of my own accord. He won’t come himself, he feels it’s a disgrace to beg. He sends others to do his begging for him.”

  “If he’s so hot on the idea, he could always fight Jegu himself.”

  Kevin shook his head. “He says he can’t. All the other gods but Yond and yourself are too weak, we have no destructive powers except what mischief we can cause indirectly. Father says he is too strong. If he unleashes his powers, it will cause the—”

  “—destruction of the world. Yeah, that’s his excuse for everything. Well, when you return, tell him that I’ll make up my own mind about what to do, and if I feel it’s time for the gods to be destroyed, I’ll let Jegu do it.”

  Kevin laughed. “That’ll go over well.”

  “I’ve had my share of awkward moments tonight, now it’s your turn.”

  “All right, brother. I hope you know what you’re doing,” Kevin flashed a shit-eating grin, did a deep bow and began to fade away.

  “Wait,” I said.

  Kevin came back into focus. “What?”

  “Give me back the underwear.”

  Kevin cocked an eyebrow.

  “Just put them in my hands, I need them for something.”

  “Okay, there you are,” Kevin said.

  The silken underwear appeared in my hands and Kevin faded from sight.

  I walked back to Angelina’s room and opened her door. She had covered herself up with a blanket and was sitting up on the bed.

  She looked at me quizzically.

  “Sorry about that,” I said
and handed her the underwear. “You see, I got these for you yesterday at the marketplace. They are very fine and rare and come from the East. I couldn’t very well take the risk of putting them into my saddlebags because someone might have seen them. You know how soldiers are, I would never have lived it down. I put them on to hide them and then forgot about it.”

  “How could you forget you were wearing silk underwear?”

  I smiled. “Well, they are very comfortable. Oh yes.” I reached behind myself and came back with a single red rose. “This is for you, too.”

  She took the rose and smiled, then opened her arms for me. We embraced and she whispered in my ear. “Do you want me to put these on for you?”

  I whispered back. “No, at this point they’d just get in the way and take up valuable time.”

  And I spent the next two hours doing my damnest to prove to her how much I enjoyed the company of females in general and her in particular.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  I got back to camp in time to catch some sleep before dawn. I knew that with the upcoming battle, there would be frantic activity and an early start. I was lucky in that I needed very little sleep, and I could usually command my body to instantly drop off into a deep level of restful slumber.

  I was awakened exactly 30 minutes into that deep, restful slumber by a boot in the ribs.

  “Hey, you. Get up.”

  I moaned, squinted my eyes open and saw Sergeant Toger standing over me, silhouetted by the new dawn.

  “Get up,” he said. “Captain Rosten wants to see you.”

  My half hour of magical rest had felt like about three hours of normal sleep, which meant I only needed five more hours and still felt like shit. I scratched and rolled out of my knapsack, then stumbled along behind Toger yawning looking generally bleary-eyed.

  The rest of the camp was in the middle of the regular morning activities. Men were starting to pack away bedding, get into their uniforms and line up for a bowl of breakfast porridge.

  The night guard retired as soon as they were relieved and took to their beds, poor bastards. The camp was going to be alive with noise today. It was doubtful if they would get any sleep at all. At any rate, they would be awakened before the battle began in earnest.

  A bright beam of light from the rising sun shone through the flap and illuminated the interior of Captain Rosten’s tent. Most of Rosten’s belongings had been packed up and were ready to move. He sat on a camp stool before a folding table. He motioned for me to sit down on an empty stool across from him then dismissed Toger. “I’d like to speak with him privately, Sergeant.”

  Toger saluted and left us alone.

  “Captain,” I said. “What can I do for you this find morning?”

  “Carl, I’m sorry to send for you at breakfast. I had actually meant to talk to you a few hours past, but when Sergeant Toger checked your bedroll, it was empty. Any explanation?”

  “I was probably in the shitter.”

  “Hmm, well I checked and you had been seen going to the latrine, but no one saw you return. We looked, and the latrine was empty.”

  “I don’t know what to tell you, Captain. I was certainly around here somewhere. After all, where could I go? There are sentries everywhere with sharp, pointy things. Maybe I was walking back to my bedroll when your men were walking to the latrine and we simply took different paths? I have been known to stroll around the long way when coming back from the latrine. Going toward the latrine is another matter. That’s much more of a direct route due to necessity.”

  Rosten shook his head. “You always have the quick answer and joke for everything, eh?”

  I shrugged. “It’s what I do. It’s my trade, my bread and butter, my forte’, my standard operating—”

  “Enough, Carl. Where were you? I can’t have my men gallivanting around when we are on a war footing.”

  “Captain, I have never gallivanted in my life. I feel very strongly against gallivanting. I have always been more of a traipser.”

  Rosten put his hand over his eyes and rubbed them. “Fine, fine. You’ll be the death of me. I suppose, in the long run, where you were doesn’t matter, that’s not the point. The enemy is on the move. Their camp has packed up and they’ve stopped only about a half-hour’s march away. We’ll definitely be fighting today.”

  “That’s what the herald said.”

  “Yes, the herald. Interesting you mentioned him. It happens to be why I called for you.”

  Rosten reached toward his belt and pulled out a dagger. I recognized it.

  “This was taken from the throat of the herald. No one seems to know who put it there. It looks like yours, doesn’t it?”

  “Really? You’re right, it looks like my dagger, sir. It went missing yesterday. I figured someone stole it, but I wasn’t sure. I didn’t want to raise a stink just in case I had simply misplaced it. I’m glad to see you found it. Maybe the same person who killed the herald is the one who stole my dagger. If so, I can’t say that I would want to push the issue of the theft. It’s the least I can do. He did us all such a fine service.”

  Rosten sighed. “Right.”

  He stood, rolling the dagger over in his band, examining it.

  “Everyone is a bit confused as to what happened yesterday,” he said. “Many of the men have recalled hearing music, and having a sudden desire to follow the herald back to his camp. Do you remember anything like that? Anything strange?”

  I shook my head. “No sir, I just remember the king’s fine inspirational speech, then the herald came and said something about wanting us to give up. As he was leaving, I do seem to remember some music, but then the next thing I recall is seeing him dead on the ground and everyone being confused as to what had occurred.”

  “Funny thing. There were some people watching the events from the city walls. They were out of earshot of the herald’s strange music. They say they saw someone from our battle group rush forward and stand in the way of the herald. Then they say this man threw a dagger and killed the herald.”

  “That’s fine, sir. We should be proud of that guy. I’d like to buy him a drink. Course, come to think of it he was also a dagger thief so on balance I’d say we’re even. Did the person at the wall see who it was?”

  Rosten shook his head. “No, unfortunately they were too far away to identify anyone.”

  “That’s a pity,” I said. “We have a hero in our midst and we have no possible what of finding our who it is. A genuine shame.”

  “Yes, isn’t it?” he stared at me and I met his gaze. “Is that all you have to say on the subject?” he asked.

  “Yes sir, that’s my story and I am sticking to it,” I said. “With the Captain’s indulgence, of course.”

  Rosten paused for a moment, then shook his head and laughed. He handed the dagger over to me. I took it and stuck it in my belt.

  Rosten smiled. “I don’t know what your real story is, Carl. But I like you. I think you’re an excellent soldier, in fact better than most of my best swordsmen although you do your best to keep your talents well hidden.”

  “I appreciate the compliment, sir, but I’m really not that good.”

  “Oh, but you are. In fact I wish I could have you lead my swordsmen into battle, but I think you were meant for a bigger role. I’ve also heard you play. And call it talent, magic, or whatever. When you play, the men feel better, they fight better and they have hope.”

  “I try. Everyone likes a good tune.”

  Rosten placed the heels of his hands on the table and leaned forward, looking directly at me. Watching me carefully.

  “When you play the pipes tomorrow, I think you’ll do more than any one sword arm is capable of. I know it sounds foolish. I’ve heard stories of traveling bards who do magic with music. Is that what you are, Carl?”

  “I’m a musician. I have a skill that can set heels to dancing and hearts to beating faster. I suppose it is magic of a sort, if you want to call it that. The important thing is I promise you I’ll do
my best to give the men whatever help I can.”

  Rosten was silent. Part of me wished I could share my secret with this man, but how could he accept the truth? Better I remained a mystery. An unknown force for good, a lucky charm, because the name of Kaltron was not associated with victory, it was associated with death and destruction. It was bad luck.

  “That’s good to know, Carl. It comforts me more than you know.”

  He paused. He seemed on the verge of asking what he knew he should not ask. But at last he proved he was wise enough to not inquire too diligently about how his favorite sausage was made. “You’d better get some thing to eat, Carl. No traipsing either. The sun rises on an important day. You will be needed.”

  “Yes sir.”

  I left Rosten to his thoughts. It had been stupid of me to leave my dagger in the herald’s throat, but I was trying to get back into ranks before the glamour of his spell wore off. I was certain only Rosten knew the owner of the dagger. I didn’t think he would expose any secrets about me. He wasn’t a man who looked a gift horse in the mouth too closely.

  I returned to stow away my bedroll and try to grab some food. There was work to be done soon and a battle to be fought today against Jegu, the enemy of gods and men.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  The horn was blown and the men awoke to duty in the early dawn. A misty fog covered the dew wet ground. The smell of wood smoke from the cooking fires combined with the less wholesome smell of the latrines. We lined up at the company mess. A quick breakfast of hot oats and we were set to work breaking down tents and moving provisions behind city walls.

  The way was cleared for the engagement to come. I judged the city to be easily defensible. The natural barriers of the steep, sloped hills protected the city on three sides. The outer city walls were high and stout all around. Towers stood ready to repel attackers on either side of the gatehouse with its steel portcullis, six other towers rose at the corners of the wall. An inner wall also protected the city in case the enemy broke through the first barrier, and the kings castle keep stood on the highest point of the hill behind another thick walled courtyard—and, of course, there was the lovely moat of shit that kept the king safe and his chamberpots empty. That was definitely a fine defensive construction.