Gods & Dragons: 8 Fantasy Novels

by Daniel Arenson

  She flinched but did not look away. Something about the intensity of his gaze bothered her, as if he saw right through her. Gathering her nerves and her patience, she said, “That is a slogan, not an answer. Lord Kiner and Lord Jovan believe you should be washed out of the program and sent home.”

  “And what do you think, Lady Bethany?”

  She crossed her arms. “I’m undecided.”

  No longer were his eyes wide like a frightened animal. Instead they narrowed. “I have no weapons training of any kind if that is what’s making you hesitate.”

  “Then I agree with them, though I admire your honesty.”

  Bethany let her gaze fall from his face for a moment, trying to muster the softest words to explain the situation. She owed the Arrago of her visions that much compassion. “It is impossible for you to complete training. Without this basic class, you will not be able to advance to the next level and find a position here. No position in politics, the military, or the clergy exists where you can avoid needing this course. Anyone who works for the elves works for the Gentle Goddess. She requires everyone in her service be able to hold a sword to defend her honor.”

  Those words she borrowed from previous lectures. She didn’t even believe those words. It was merely a part of elven tradition that got mixed up with the faith until it was impossible to tell where one stopped and the other began.

  “I’m willing to learn. I want to stay and succeed.”

  She would have liked to have him progress in his studies. “I believe you and I have nothing but sympathy for your situation. I have no reason to keep you beyond pity and I doubt you would like to stay under those terms.”

  “I can work with the master-at-arms at night. I’ll go without sleep. Just let me stay.”

  It was turning out to be the longest dismissal of her career. “Why do you want to stay if military training isn’t for you?” If he would just agree to leave, it would have made it easier on her. Yes, the rules were unfairly stacked against poor humans. That was the point of training at the temple, to weed out the politically powerless.

  “I want to have a position working with the clergy. I want to further the glory of the Gentle Goddess. I was content being Father Arragous’ assistant back home but all I’d ever be was a clerk in a backwoods parish. He told me coming here would allow me any position, anywhere. Instead of spending my life in the middle of nowhere knee-deep in poverty, I would get the chance to be an assistant here,” he said, spreading his arms out. “Maybe even in Wyllow, or Ellentop.”

  She felt a flash of anger at the pompous old elf, followed quickly by a tumult of questions. He had sent Arrago’s letter of recommendation. To serve the goddess meant knowing how to defend her interests. Sometimes, that meant handling a sword. He of all people would know that because he helped write the original charter. She did not understand why he had set Arrago up for failure.

  Bethany took a deep breath and spoke without emotion. “Arrago, you cannot stay. You need to learn how to use a sword. The other initiates have been sword-playing since childhood. Some have even been in war. This course is designed around that knowledge. You will fail.”

  Arrago fixed his gaze on the floor and remained silent.

  Part of her wished he’d talk back or stand up for himself. Or argue. “Listen, learn to handle a weapon and I’ll personally sponsor your return.” The last part slipped out and surprised her but then a soft smile cracked her face. She had meant it. It was quite a wonderful gift for her to offer and she braced herself for his gushing praise.

  None came. When his eyes met hers, they filled with fire. “How am I supposed to learn when I’m being kicked out like a dog at the dinner table? You talked about honor today but you won’t give me a chance. Back home, I live with priests, Lady Bethany. Old priests! There is no one to teach me. This is the only place I can learn and you are sending me away.”

  She knew by his red cheeks and awkward fidgeting he regretted his outburst, but he stood tall. A candle flickered violently off to the side highlighting the scrolls piled messily on the floor, maps she’d requested from the archives but never had the time to return. That was the job of an aide.

  She failed to stop a grin from stretching across her face, even though she knew her thoughts were wrong. So very wrong. “You’re not staying in the class. Don’t argue with me. Hear me out first.” She took a deep breath, trying not to laugh at how the others would react when they found out. “I’m willing to train you for next year’s class.”

  Arrago’s eyes widened so much Bethany feared they’d pop out of their sockets. “What —”

  She lifted her hand and said, “In exchange, you will do a job for me where you’ll be treated poorly and paid less. You’ll spend most days wishing you were dead.”

  “What would I be doing?” he asked, his voice properly hesitant.

  “You’ll be my aide,” she said, not caring that her eyes probably twinkled.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Born on the wind, the Diamond will know Our strength. It will flood her soul and she will be Our daughter.

  —Prophecy of the Diamond, Second Tablet

  “This is everything,” Arrago said to Lord Kiner, motioning to the small wooden trunk in the middle of his cot. He had brought the old thing with him from Taftlin. Though he was packing it again sooner than he had planned, he was excited about the new adventure ahead of him. Apexia’s mercy was everlasting.

  Lord Kiner took inventory, making scribbles in his tiny book with a pencil. The other recruits in the room lingered closer and longer than usual. How shocked they would be when the news got out. He had considered telling his fellow initiates just to enjoy the surprise on their faces, but he decided that silence was more fun. Edmund knew, of course, but swore himself to secrecy until Arrago had moved out.

  Lord Kiner pointed at the pile of clothing at the foot of the bed. “Are those your initiate clothes?”

  “Yes.” Arrago’s stomach clenched with anticipation. He had barely slept the night before, struggling to quell the excitement of starting as Lady Bethany’s assistant. As Lord Kiner inspected the pile, Arrago smiled at some of the other recruits who eyed him. He knew some were happy he was leaving. That didn’t take away from it being a great day.

  Lord Kiner sniffed the air. “This place smells like the sewers.”

  Arrago snickered while picking up his trunk. Some of the recruits had not bathed since arriving. Having been used to daily bathing, Arrago had enjoyed his nightly scrub in the public bath on their floor even if the others thought he was strange.

  “All of you are to report to the baths. If you don’t come back smelling like roses, I’ll scrub you myself until your skin bleeds,” Lord Kiner boomed, sending the recruits scurrying around the room like lost mice.

  “And comb the lice out of your hair or shave it off.”

  Without warning, Lord Kiner turned on his heel and marched out of the room. Arrago grabbed his trunk and, slinging it up on his shoulder, took several long strides to catch up.

  “Your quarters are in the priest wing. You are lodging with men who can ensure you follow the temple rules. While this is a military installation, it is a temple first and foremost. We are here at the request of the clergy. Be mindful of your behaviour.”

  “Yes, Lord Kiner.” Though he had only made it through ten days of training, he had learned the history of the temple. It had been a military barracks for centuries until Apexia ascended there. The clergy made it a holy site but asked the knights to stay as a symbol of the union between faith and sword. Arrago loved being a part of something so old, where his Goddess once walked with her mortal feet.

  “I think being in the priest wing will be good for you until you settle into the routine here,” Lord Kiner continued as they walked down the narrow stairways to the eighth floor. “Working with Lady Bethany can be a challenge but she is under enormous pressures so you need to exercise patience.”

  Arrago ached from carrying the trunk and switched it
to the opposite shoulder. That side of his face was still sore from Jovan’s fist and the trunk kept hitting his cheek. He winced from the pain. “I’ll do whatever is needed.”

  Kiner halted at the bottom of the stairs. He narrowed his eyes and leaned forward. “You’re not sly, right?”

  Arrago blinked. “Um, I don’t know what that means.”

  “He means,” a familiar, cheerful voice said, stomping down the stairs behind them, “would you rather go to bed with me or Bethany? Putting you with the priests might not be the best choice.”

  Arrago recoiled and took a step away when he saw Lord Jovan, resisting the urge to cover his aching jaw. Even though Jovan had apologized in his joking way, and Lord Kiner insisted his interrogation had been for the good of the temple, he still couldn’t shake the fear his beating had caused.

  “Kid, seriously, stop acting like I’m contagious. I don’t bite. Well, sometimes I do but that’s only when Eve asks nicely.”

  Lord Kiner grunted. “For all that is holy in this world, please. Shut. Up.”

  Irritated people pushed pass them, but the two knights did not move away from the bottom of the stairs.

  “What did I do?” Lord Jovan said, throwing his hands in the air. Next to Lord Kiner’s dark skin, Jovan looked whiter than a daisy. It matched his powder blue tunic. As much as Arrago wanted to be angry, it was difficult maintaining it against a man who dressed like a princess.

  Lord Kiner motioned Arrago to move ahead. Kiner lowered his voice, though Arrago could still hear him, and said, “You beat him senseless. Leave him be. And for your sake, don’t talk about Eve like that. Try to show some respect for your lover.”

  Arrago swallowed hard and walked fast to keep up with the bickering knights, who’d now passed him. He had only ever seen Lord Kiner stern. Part of him was amused to see them act like children.

  “Oh, let it go. I was only doing my job. It wasn’t personal or anything. I stopped when Beth asked me to. Arrago doesn’t hold a grudge. Right, kid?”

  Arrago stared at the lean knight. Something about the flamboyant elf made it impossible to hate him. Arrago figured it was the beads on the tunic. It was like trying to be mad at a little girl…who could kill him and not break a sweat.

  The Gentle Goddess taught that forgiveness is a gift from Her. He embraced that gift. “No grudge.”

  Lord Jovan slapped him on the back, nearly knocking the trunk over. “So, are the priests safe or should we move you in with the sisters? If I were you, I’d say I was sly just to be surrounded by all that lovely &mdash”

  “Jovan!” Lord Kiner looked like he was seconds away from exploding.

  Arrago wondered if this was normal behaviour for the two knights who he had thought were friends.

  “The priests will be safe around me, Lord Jovan.”

  “Ah, call me Jovan, kid. Since you’ll be working for General Fire, you’ll need all the friends you can muster,” Jovan said, laughing.

  Arrago looked at Kiner. He had thought he was going to work for Lady Bethany. “General Fire? I thought I would be working for Lady Bethany.”

  Kiner rolled his eyes. “Jovan, it’s Lady Fire Tits. If you must insult her, at least do it correctly. Don’t you dare ever call her that to her face,” he said, pointing his finger at Arrago. “If you thought Jovan hit you hard…”

  “I won’t!” Arrago said, spare hand raised defensively.

  As they walked through the corridors and the two knights insulted each other over the strangest things, Arrago soaked in the knowledge that he was on a first name basis with two Silver Knights. And to be working with the Lady Champion herself! Apexia had truly blessed him. He was nervous and afraid that he wouldn’t do a good job, but he trusted that the goddess would look after him.

  “Jovan, shouldn’t you be somewhere else?” Kiner asked as they approached the tower that housed Lady Bethany’s office.

  “I have ten gold pieces on the kid lasting a full month and I want him to feel welcomed enough to not quit today.”

  Arrago eyed them both wearily. “I’m not certain how I should feel about that.”

  “Arrago, I must apologize for Jovan’s behaviour. He has a drinking problem.”

  “Lighten up, Kiner. You’re as solemn as the grave some days. Arrago’s not yours anymore. We can treat him like a human being now. Well, actually, I kinda like ‘em so I’ll treat him like an elf.” Jovan inclined his head at several passing guards. “Now look, kid, you gotta last a month. Has Old Grumpy here told you how to act around Beth?”

  Kiner rolled his eyes, but remained silent.

  He stared at Kiner, confusion settling in. He had figured out that working for Lady Bethany would be a challenge, but he had not thought that it would require a learning session.

  “Well…”

  Kiner cut him off. “For starters, never call her ‘Beth’ unless you want her fist through your face. Jovan is the only person who can do it because he knew her as a child. His parents raised her for a time, you see.”

  “Don’t comment on her clothing. And don’t call her feminine,” Jovan said, as though he was counting off a checklist in his head. “Don’t mention how much she drinks.”

  “Don’t open a door for her. Don’t offer to carry anything she has picked up,” Kiner added.

  “Basically, treat her like a man. She likes that,” Jovan said with a loud laugh.

  “Yes, I do like that.”

  Arrago snapped his head around to see Lady Bethany approaching them, a wide grin on her face. She wore the same grey outfit that she always seemed to wear and he wondered if she owned several copies of it. At least her hair flowed looser than he had ever seen, with wispy red tendrils framing her pale face. Embarrassment flooded him, wondering how long she had been behind them listening.

  “Lady Bethany!” He stopped walking to bow low, struggling to manage the trunk burning his shoulder. “Lord Kiner was just bringing me to your study.”

  She cocked an eyebrow. “And Jovan was telling you all about the evils of working for me.”

  “Actually, I hadn’t gotten to that point yet. Old Grumpy wouldn’t let me.”

  Kiner sighed and leaned towards her. “Do you think Allric would mind if I slit Jovan’s throat?”

  Bethany pretended to think about it and then shook her head. “Allric frowns on summary executions. Though there is that human saying, something like it’s better to ask for forgiveness than permission.”

  Arrago offered a small chuckle while the others howled. The three friends fell into step together, laughing and joking, while Arrago hung back a few strides, his trunk resting against his shoulder. He whispered thanks to Apexia for the good fortune of having Lady Bethany as his new patron.

  * * * * *

  Bethany stood quietly to the side while Arrago looked over his desk. Sheer horror had spread over his face when he saw the backlog of paperwork, but he didn’t speak. He moved a couple of papers, looking underneath. His brow furrowed.

  “Some of this stuff might be overdue, so make sure you get those sent off first,” she said with a sheepish smile. She fidgeted with her tunic sleeves and wondered if she owed him an explanation for the mess. “This stuff arrives at all hours of the night. I can’t keep up with it.”

  Arrago nodded and smiled. “I’m sure you’re a very busy woman. What is most of this?”

  She uncrossed her arms and walked over to the desk. Sifting through the scrolls and letters, she said, “Mostly nonsense. There is a team of clerks in the east tower that try to sort through most of what comes here, but with my position…” She sighed. “Oh, there is a list of names in the top drawer. Anything from those people comes directly to me as does anything marked personal. Please don’t read those.”

  “I was the assistant to three priests back in Taftlin. They had similar rules.”

  “There is little in life that frustrates me more than mundane details.”

  He didn’t look up from the desk. “Mundane details are how a temple the
size of a town is maintained.”

  Bethany grunted in agreement. Thankfully, she was at a place where she could delegate the trivial parts away.

  Arrago picked up the stack on what was now his chair and deposited the mess of papers on top of the desk before sitting down. “How soon would you like this caught up?”

  “No idea,” Bethany said with a shrug. “Rebecca had never caught up from the previous assistant. A couple weeks?”

  He nodded, completely unfazed by the request. “Will your guards allow me access to the study at any time or do you need to be present?”

  She blinked. All of her previous assistants had avoided the office as much as possible. Well, they avoided her. “Um…I don’t know. I never thought about that.”

  Bethany walked to the door and peered out. She didn’t recognize either of her guards. Both were regular soldiers. Further down the hall was a young woman with a purple strip across her baldric, a knight apprentice. Bethany spoke to her. “Arrago Cedar is my new aide. Let him come and go as he wishes.”

  “Yes, Lady Bethany,” the female guard said, not looking at her. “I will ensure the next shift is aware.”

  “The guards will let you in,” Bethany said to Arrago as she ducked back into the room. “Training, right. We should discuss your schedule. I’m willing to train you or the master-at-arms can. He’s a human so you might rather him over me.”

  He nodded automatically. He was already breaking open seals and skimming letters to separate them into piles. “If you’re too busy, Lady Bethany, I understand.”

  “Call me Bethany. If you call me Beth, I’ll kill you.”

  “I would never do anything to risk your wrath, Bethany.” He looked up from his desk, a shy grin spread across his face.

  Don’t go all weak-kneed now because of a stupid vision. You’re supposed to treat your aides like shit. Maintain the reputation.

  He turned back to his work and she debated yelling at him. Her shoulders slumped and she accepted that it would be too much effort. Being nice to him felt better. How she hated feelings some days.