Gods & Dragons: 8 Fantasy Novels

by Daniel Arenson

“Back down, Sarissa,” Bethany shouted, now on her feet and in pursuit.

  Sarissa pushed over tables and chairs, tripping up the pursuers. She had hoped to make it to the stairs but ended up backed into a corner. She chanted protection spells, using up the last drops of her retained Magic. They wouldn’t hold out for long against Blessed Blades touched with Power. Her mother’s Power.

  Bethany swung her Blessed Blade and Sarissa raised her arms to defend herself. She regretted the instinctual reaction immediately. Kissed by Apexia’s lips, the blades slammed against her invisible shield, sucking all the residual Magic from her blood. The blades stuck in the shield, sinking closer and closer to her skin. Sweat glistened on Bethany’s face and she grunted as she pushed harder.

  Pulling, screaming, kicking, Sarissa could not detach herself from the sword. The dark woman swung her crossbow and smacked Sarissa`s forehead. Bright stars blurred her vision. Her energy faded…faded.

  Gone.

  Sarissa stumbled and fell against the wall, waiting for Bethany’s blade to sink into her belly. She hated herself for having failed, though she took some comfort in knowing her sister would never recover from this.

  Sarissa sucked in a deep breath, unable to muster any remaining Magic. With her wards collapsed, all that stood between her and death was a well-placed swing of steel. “Kill me and be done with it.”

  Bethany’s eyes lost their hardness. Sarissa strained to identify the new look on her twin’s face. Was that…hesitation?

  Bethany slammed against the wall, collapsing to the floor. Sarissa snapped her head to see twelve shadows step beyond an invisible cloak of Magic and appear in the middle of the room. Eleven of the most powerful Magi of her village along with her husband.

  “I’ve never been so happy to see your ugly face, Robert,” she said with a smile.

  He did not acknowledge her. Instead, he remained motionless while he scanned the room. Spotting Bethany, he charged. Three others joined in, drawing their own swords and clubs. The rest attacked the horde of charging soldiers. Sarissa staggered to her feet, pleased that they remembered not to use Magic on Bethany. Old-fashion hacking and slashing was the only way to kill a half-god.

  Good, Sarissa thought. Keep the pretty soldiers busy while I find my prize.

  * * * * *

  Bethany dodged a punch to the midsection as someone hit her kidneys. She gritted her teeth against the pain but her legs buckled without her consent. She kept her balance against the eye-watering pain, and hacked at the fighters in front of her. She had lost sight of Sarissa, not that she could do anything to stop her while a full brawl broke out in front of her.

  She ducked in time to avoid splinters from a smashed chair. Crossbow bolts flew past her face. A window smashed behind her. She avoided touching the attackers as much as possible; draining them would also drain her and reveal her Power to the knights around her. She didn’t even know quite how to stir up her Power, nor did she want to find out, especially after the day’s events with Joseph.

  A sword scraped across her chainmail from behind. She turned on her heel only to have a bolt plunge into her thigh. She screamed in pain and staggered against the wall. Thankfully, the bolt only skimmed the outside of her leg, but even with a slow bleeding wound, she could not keep up the pace much longer.

  An idea occurred to her. She caught a glimpse of Jovan, near the door and shouted, “Jovan, torch this place!”

  Only a dozen or so knights were inside the building. She supposed the rest were outside protecting Eve’s workers. Still, a couple dozen well-trained fighters in a windowless room created a massive amount of shouting, cursing, and grunting. She shouted over the pandemonium a second time.

  With Amber’s unconscious body wedged protectively between his feet, Jovan nodded while he parried several blows. He shouted, “You heard her. Out!”

  Gritting against the pain in her thigh, she fought her way to Jovan who was closest to the door. Occasionally, she saw a flash of brown skin. It comforted her knowing Eve was still fighting. Wave after wave of Magic slammed against the knights, though none purposely landed on her. Blood sprayed Bethany’s face, stunning her for a moment until she realized it wasn’t her own. Metal clanged around her and she fought the remaining thugs.

  Bethany hauled her aching body over the wooden bar, slippery now with the blood of her of enemies, and perhaps a few friends. Her vision blurred as the white pain hit her. Pushing past it, she grabbed a bottle of lamp oil and threw it into the fireplace, producing a fireball bellowing out. Wine and spirits all ended up in the fire, too. Eve and Erem grabbed chairs, tables, clothing, anything they could get their hands on, throwing it in front of the fire, kicking, stabbing, bashing anyone in their path.

  Black smoke filled the room and the fire spread to the broken furniture. Jovan grabbed Amber, tossing her over his shoulder, and fought his way out while carrying her. Bethany and Eve rushed for the door and away from the choking, black smoke.

  Outside, the knights circled what remained of Sarissa’s thugs who had formed a collective ward around themselves. Someone gasped and Bethany looked over her shoulder. A huge, bearded man, covered in soot and blood, stumbled out of the building, coughing and gasping for air. On his back sprawled a barely-conscious Sarissa, who had a saddlebag slung over one shoulder.

  Bethany froze as Kiner and Erem pointed their swords at the duo. Her sister needed to die. This was her chance. Yet, this was her twin, her missing half. Killing Sarissa was like cutting out her own heart.

  She lowered her sword and looked at the bearded man. “Let Sarissa come back with us. I will speak to the elven Council and petition for a fair punishment for all of your men. I don’t want to kill her. Please. I don’t want to hurt her.”

  “Robert, catch!”

  A small jewel flew past Bethany’s head. The bearded man caught it and thrust it in Sarissa’s hand. Someone clapped their hands twice and Sarissa, and her male helper, disappeared from sight. Bethany whirled around. The others were gone, too. Bethany did not bother silencing the gasps from her soldiers.

  You have so much to learn about us, Sarissa’s voice echoed in Bethany’s mind, her laughter haunting the wind.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  The path is a difficult one. The Diamond’s destiny will be found on the road to avoid it.

  —Prophecy of the Diamond, Second Tablet

  For the hundredth time in three days, Arrago roamed the stables, watching for the knights’ return. He calculated and recalculated their arrival time. He amended his previous estimate, now accounting for injured bodies and a shortage of horses.

  He wasn’t the only one waiting. Several knights, priests, sisters, and general folk wandered in and out all evening, checking to see if healers were needed yet. Even Father Torius came by after supper. Everyone worried, and no one seemed to know, or perhaps admit, what was going on.

  Arrago chastised himself for his idiotic behaviour. Apexia’s holy name, Bethany had just been attacked! Erem told him later that she was the one to discover the corridor littered with the corpses of her friends and neighbors. And what did he do? Was he supportive and kind? No. He tried to seduce her. What in the name of all that was sacred had he been thinking?

  His face flushed. He knew exactly what went through his mind. He needed to stop thinking about Bethany’s hips, and breasts, and smile, and her legs…her hair falling on his chest…

  “Apexia’s mercy!” he shouted, throwing his hands in the air. He turned and discovered a bemused, but silent, Allric standing behind him, holding a lantern.

  “Ah, good evening, Lord Allric,” Arrago said, then sighed.

  Allric stared at him for a moment before laughing. “Arrago, I know exactly how you feel.”

  “Doubtful,” Arrago quipped back a little too quickly. He winced. “Sorry. I’m not good with all this waiting.”

  Allric nodded and walked up to Arrago. He patted the palomino horse. Bethany’s horse. “None of us are. I’ve been a soldier for most o
f my life. It’s doesn’t get easier. You just get better at hiding it. With Bethany in your life, you’ll get lots of practice waiting.”

  “We fought before she left. I’m regretting that now.”

  Allric produced a pastry from his pocket and handed it to Apples. “You will find most of us fight with Bethany so often that it’s impossible for her to leave without someone being angry at her, or the reverse.” He wiped his horse-slobbered hand on his trousers. “I wouldn’t take it to heart.”

  Arrago remained silent and watched the most important man in the Elven Service smile at him before walking out underneath the terrace. What a strange life he’d developed here at the Temple. A year ago, he only talked to priests. Now, he was having a chat with the leader of the world’s most powerful army. Apexia’s grace, things had sure changed.

  Allric looked over his shoulder. “I think that’s them.”

  Hope rose in Arrago’s chest. He walked over and stood next to the impossibly large man. Allric stood a good hand’s length over him, not to mention that he was as broad as a table. He looked out. “I don’t see them.”

  “Listen.”

  Arrago listened. “I don’t hear anything.”

  “Listen.”

  “I don’t…wait, I hear something.”

  Allric grunted.

  Moments later, the clattering hooves grew closer and finally a wave of lanterns, people, and horses, plus several goats and a cow, arrived in the stables. Servants and stable hands seemed to appear from nowhere to assist in the mass chaos.

  He noticed Jovan first and waved. Jovan shouted out, “Arrago, give me a hand.”

  Arrago rushed over to the elf’s horse. Gingerly, Jovan lowered the moaning girl in front of his saddle into Arrago’s arms. The boney frame collapsed limply into his arms. Easing the girl to the ground, he caught sight of the white birthmark on her arm. Rygent.

  He chided his prejudice. Apexia’s love extended to everyone, including those proud people who preferred worshipping a dead god than acknowledging Her as the prime goddess. He reminded himself that it had been a Rygent—Even? Easten? Eve?—that had healed Bethany when she had collapsed all those months ago. He resolved to give this small creature the same respect as his goddess would show.

  Jovan dismounted his horse and stumbled. Arrago grabbed his arm, steadying him.

  “I’ve barely slept in three days.” Jovan yawned and brushed a hand against his shadowed eyes. “All I want to do is stuff my face, bathe, and pass out with my naked girl. Where’s Allric? He here yet?”

  Arrago pointed behind him at the massive shadow underneath the terrace.

  “Good. Let’s get this bad news over with so I can get some sleep.”

  Still no sign of Bethany. Jovan handed his horse’s reins to a stable boy.

  “Jovan, where’s Bethany?”

  Jovan stopped and looked around. “She was coming up the rear because her horse was lame. Oh, there she is.” He waved her over.

  Bethany trotted her horse over to them. Blood and dust caked her body. She nodded, her eyelids half-closed.

  “Beth, we should talk to Allric. Kiner can look after Eve’s crowd and Erem can &mdash”

  Her eyes rolled back in her head for a split second. “Bethany?” Arrago interrupted. His gaze fell to the wet, slick spot on her leg where a filthy rag was tied. “You’re bleeding.”

  “Still?” Jovan asked, turning to look at her leg. “Apexia’s tits. You’re a mess.”

  Bethany gulped. “I’m feeling a touch faint,” she whispered before falling forward, hitting her nose against the horse’s mane. The horse objected and bucked. Jovan grabbed the reins and Arrago raised up his hands, in case Bethany slid out of the stirrups.

  “Kiner, help!” Arrago shouted.

  Kiner turned away from the limp girl Jovan had carried and rushed over.

  Together, they eased her off the horse and on to the ground. Arrago couldn’t stop his hand from brushing against her pale face. Eve was suddenly there, pushing him aside, and he moved slightly, letting her close to Bethany. He caught a whiff of the woman’s spicy perfume, mingled with the scent of her horse. It was strangely appealing.

  The Rygent’s expert hands moved over the barely-conscious body. Unsure of what to do, Arrago held Bethany’s hands and rubbed them gently. Or, at least he thought it was gently.

  “Try to go easy on her. I don’t have enough strength to heal raw skin as well,” she said, flashing bright teeth. “I’m Eve. We met before. You must be Arrago.”

  He nodded, trying to not show his discomfort. “You’re a mind reader.”

  She closed her eyes. “No, I’m a healer.”

  “Then how did you know my name?”

  Eyes still closed, she tipped her head back in the direction of Jovan’s voice. “Apexia couldn’t make him keep a secret.”

  If he wasn’t so scared for Bethany, he might have laughed.

  * * * * *

  Bethany’s eyes were heavy, as if she had drank too much rye. Pain stabbed her right thigh. She swallowed hard until she grew accustomed to the pain. She squinted in the dim lighting. Beyond the blurring faces leaning over her, she had no idea where she was other than in a bed. A firm, lumpy, hideously uncomfortable bed.

  Blinking a few more times, her eyes focused until she saw Arrago sitting next to her. “Where I am?”

  “Honored Sister Aneese’s bedchamber,” Arrago answered, squeezing her hand.

  Bethany groaned. She’d never hear the end of bleeding on Aneese’s bed. “Joy.”

  Jovan came into focus at the foot of the bed, “Aneese’s room was the closest to the stables. You were bleeding pretty badly. Why didn’t you say something earlier?”

  She pushed against the bed and sat up, clenching her fists against the pain. It didn’t hurt nearly this much when the blade had pierced her. “It only started bleeding again when we came into Orchard Park. I thought I could make it.”

  “Easy, Bethany,” Arrago said, reaching out and steadying her. She cocked an eyebrow at him and he removed his hands. Quickly. “You’ve got an infected wound there. Eve helped heal you. I made the savoy compress. It’ll keep the infection away.”

  Bethany smirked at him, wincing against the unrelenting pain in her face. And her thigh. And her ribs. Everything hurt so much. “Why you aren’t a midwife? You’d be perfect for the job, clucking like a mother hen whenever someone hurts themselves.”

  She expected an embarrassed look from him. Instead he kept an even expression and said, “When the wound heals cleanly, you’ll be grateful for the hen clucking.”

  Eve approached the bed, her dark skin sallow and dull. “I’m sorry I couldn’t do more. I had used most of my energy healing Amber.”

  “Who?” Bethany asked.

  “The woman Sarissa wanted,” Jovan whispered.

  Bethany nodded. She had forgotten about the girl in all of the madness. “Have you spoken with Allric? How much time has passed?”

  “Only a few hours. Kiner and I already spoke to Allric. There isn’t much we can all do. Get a good night’s sleep and we will interview Amber in the morning.”

  She shook her head. “No. Let’s do it now.”

  “Are you strong enough?” Arrago asked, his voice a little cold.

  “I don’t need you mothering me.”

  “I was worried about Eve, not you. She needs to rest not heal your stubborn ass.” Turning to Jovan, he said, “I’ll leave you to it.

  Eve gave Arrago a supportive smile. “Thank you for helping.”

  Arrago inclined his head. “I need some sleep, but call me if you need anything, Eve. I’m not a healer, but I know a little about mixtures.”

  She smiled, “And I know a little about healing and nothing about mixtures. We seem to be a perfect pair.”

  Arrago smiled briefly before nodding to the room and leaving.

  That answered the question of whether or not he was still angry about her rebuffing his advances. “Isn’t he a bundle of rainbows a
nd puppies today. Jovan, let’s get this meeting over with.”

  Eve shot Bethany her intense, warning glare, surprising her. Yet again, it seemed she overstepped. Arrago was the hired help, as Jovan had once called him. She wondered why she should care. He was nothing beyond her aide.

  She sunk back into the miserably uncomfortable bed. Leave it to Aneese to have an austere bedroom. The elf probably had a horsehair tunic in her closet.

  Outside, the clumping of the guards irritated her nerves and she tried to push the noise to one side. The quiet life of the temple would not return until she had dealt with Sarissa.

  Knowing that Sarissa was nearby and more powerful than she had ever thought possible frightened Bethany. Yes, the fire had destroyed the books but Sarissa had gotten away with her disappearing spell.

  Magic. Bethany sighed. Her hesitation would cost them dearly. She was certain of that.

  Bethany felt her failure acutely. She had vowed to everyone that she would stop her sister. Yet, when the moment came, she let Sarissa go. Why? Not because of mercy or overwhelming odds or anything noble. She hesitated because of sentimentality.

  After curling into a fetal position, she pressed her hand against the compress around her thigh. Arrago had made it for her, the annoying git. She knew a little of Rygent and Taftlin rivalry beyond both sides sharing the same coastal waters and, thus, historic enemies. She pressed her hand against the wound, comforted knowing that he cared enough to work alongside Eve. It helped her like him all the more, something she hoped to avoid.

  So tired her bones ached, Bethany faded in and out while she waited for the others to arrive. No doubt Torius had already gone to bed and it would take a good hour to wake the old priest up; he’d slept through a hurricane once.

  A huge, but gentle hand shook her shoulder and her eyes snapped opened. Allric stood over her and smiled. “You insist on a meeting in the middle of the night and you aren’t even awake for it.”

  She rubbed her eyes. “I didn’t realize I fell asleep.”

  He shook his head, still smiling. “A good soldier sleeps whenever the opportunity arises.”