Gods & Dragons: 8 Fantasy Novels

by Daniel Arenson

  Mother Aneese stuck her head out from the crowded table and smiled at him. “Welcome, Arrago. I see that Allric has displaced you.”

  He struggled against the fluster that rose within him. Even in his wildest dreams, he never imagined Mother Aneese actually knew his name. “It comes with being an aide.”

  She smiled at him again and resumed eating her food and chatting in a low whisper with the clergy around her. Arrago, however, did not listen. He was busy eavesdropping on Allric’s conversation, which he could not make out the words. Their facial expressions, however, could be read by anyone. They were horrified.

  Almost at the same time, Bethany, Kiner, and Jovan jumped to their feet. The clamor in the room settled down, all eyes on Bethany. She shouted, “All off-duty soldiers with me. Now!”

  Instinctively, Arrago ducked as bowls and utensils clamored to the floor as humans, elves, and Elorians dropped everything, even their meals, to rush to duty. Wide-eyed, Arrago watched Bethany, who did not look back at him. She was busy being Lady Champion, taking long strides to reach the doorway. Pride swelled in him.

  Curiosity led his gaze back to his former table. Kiner had rushed to join Bethany, whereas Jovan and Allric remained. They were standing now, whispering. Jovan was speaking with animated gestures and Allric shook his head.

  Arrago only heard pieces.

  Children.

  Nailed.

  Crossroads.

  His blood ran cold.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  The Gods will hold her high so she can see the world in its chaos and she will know her path is righteous.

  —The Prophecy of the Diamond, First Tablet

  What had once been a white-washed two-story orphanage was now a blood-splattered nightmare. Bethany steeled herself. Tiny bodies dangled from the outer walls and doors of the building. Honored Sisters, not all untied yet from the trees, shrieked prayers to Apexia. Others just stood, completely catatonic and traumatized after being forced to watch a massacre.

  Bethany gulped down her grief and clenched her jaw as she stared at one of the worst scenes she’d ever witnessed. She blocked all but the distant sounds of the chaos and instead focused her entire energy on the sight in front of her.

  An infant’s body, his eyes already pecked out by crows, hung from the welcome sign that read, “Lady Champion Bethany’s Hospice for Orphaned Children of War.” Over her name, “killer” was painted in blood.

  This would be likewise repaid, in blood.

  “Kiner,” Bethany shouted over the commotion, struggling to force down the hate and anger that boiled inside her. Sarissa would pay for this. Even if Bethany had to use her bare hands to do it, her sister would die for this.

  Kiner waved in her direction and jogged over, mail clinking as he did. From the rotten smell, she assumed his breakfast eggs were somewhere in the bushes.

  She did not take her eyes off the building in front of her. “I have four other orphanages within two days’ ride. Send soldiers to guard them.”

  Kiner rested a hand against her mail sleeve. She looked down, unsure why he was touching her. “Bethany, I’m sorry that —”

  She yanked her limb from his grasp. “Have you forgotten who I am? Never touch me.”

  “I didn’t mean —”

  “Do you honestly think that a little flirting with Arrago and the soldier is gone?” She stepped closer to him until they were nose to nose. “You listen to me, Lord Kiner. In this moment, you are not my friend. You are a soldier under my command. And if you ever think I need your sympathy in the field of battle again, you’ll find yourself enjoying the mining islands. Have I made myself clear?”

  Kiner stiffened and swallowed hard, his face flush. “Yes, Lady Bethany. Would you prefer I send a message back to the temple or shall I go myself?”

  She took several deep breaths before answering. “Personally oversee the assignments. Send some soldiers from here to West River to protect them. The other orphanages are north of the temple, so send troops from there.” Bethany took a deep breath and said in a calmer tone, “Kiner, I am truly sorry if this has ended our friendship.”

  A small smile creased his mouth. “No. It is I that should apologize.” He inclined his head and rushed through the chaos.

  Heart-wrenching mourning wails sent chills down her spine. It took her a moment to remember that it was the living that screamed, not the dead.

  Bethany walked towards the building, holding out her hand to halt others from following her. Her head pounded, announcing the presence of Magic. No surprise there. The stench of decomposing bodies in the early summer heat slammed against her once she opened the door. Only years of training allowed her to swallow back her own breakfast.

  Once her eyes adjusted to the dim room, she scanned the walls, still covered with the artwork of small children. This had been the second orphanage she opened, just on the outskirts of Orchard Park. As Lady Champion of the powerless, innocent, and voiceless, Bethany believed it her duty to have provided such buildings, funded from her personal accounts. She had no need of the money, and this could atone for the necessary things she had done in war.

  She ran her gloved hands along the schoolroom desks, dried blood and guts still splattered everything. Her jaw clenched and tears stung her eyes. There was no atonement for her crimes, past or present. Or yet to come. Death always followed soldiers, waiting, stalking, pouncing where it would hurt the most.

  A small cloth doll rested on the floor and Bethany picked up. Her pride had brought this. How arrogant to think she could stop Sarissa. How weak that she’d hesitated when the moment came.

  Bethany stared at the doll and she ripped a piece of the bloody once-beige dress and stuffed it into her belt. Never again would she hesitate. If necessary, she would use her Power and expose her true self to the world.

  Never again would she put her own interests above the innocent.

  She sighed. Enough, she chided herself. Bethany walked to the door and stepped out, the noon sun blinding her for a moment.

  Erem greeted her as soon as she cleared the doorway. He was pale, even for Erem. “Lady Bethany, we can’t get the children down. The rope is possessed. We’d have to use our Blessed Blades to cut the rope and…” he swallowed hard and winced, and bile wafted around him, “it’s completely wrapped around them. They’d get hacked up coming down.”

  Bethany spat. “Fucking Magic. Fucking Magi.” She rubbed the back of her neck. “I can’t order that.” She looked around and spotted a sobbing nun. Bethany walked over to the woman, motioning for Erem to follow her.

  “Sister, can you do death rites?”

  The elderly woman nodded and tried to speak but her voice cracked. She tried again. “Yes, Lady Bethany. But their bodies?”

  Bethany turned back to Erem, her insides clenching and churning. “Burn the building. I refuse to desecrate these bodies any more than what’s already been done to them. These children don’t deserve to be chopped up like wood. Sister, begin the rites.”

  The human nun bowed and, clasping her hands together, began to pray aloud. “Blessed Apexia, bring us grace. Blessed Goddess, bring us peace.”

  “You heard her. Start piling up the brush!” Erem shouted. “We are making it a pyre. Move!”

  “I saw several oil lamps inside,” Bethany said, barely a whisper.

  Erem nodded and shouted for someone to get the oil.

  One of the regulars - Ridley, she thought his name was - poured two lamps worth of oil along the entrance where the others began piling brush.

  Someone carried a long stick with a smoking, burning tinder pile resting precariously on it. He tossed it into the midst of the oil. The effect was immediate. Flames blasted along the doorframe and spread along the base of the building.

  “Blessed Apexia, be with us in our time of grief.”

  Bethany struggled to hear the priestess over the shouts and cursing of the soldiers around them.

  “Tell everyone to shut up,” Bethany said t
o Erem, mesmerized by the flickering, crackling flame.

  “Shut up and have some respect,” Erem shouted. Except for a few whispers, only the priestess now spoke.

  “Blessed Apexia, bring peace. Blessed Apexia, bring hope.”

  Flames overwhelmed the building. As the fire reached the first of the bodies and the sickening stench of charred flesh hit them, people began to weep. Bethany didn’t. Neither did Erem, who instead listed a steady stream of elven curse words under his breath. She just stared, aware of the cold reality of her own life dying in the fire.

  * * * * *

  Eight mugs of the strongest tea available and Bethany finally could say that, yes, she was alive. Barely. She stood outside Allric’s study, for fear of passing out if she sat down. Her bruised ribs, cut leg, and stitched face all throbbed in unison like a traveling busker group. Nothing that a few days of unconsciousness couldn’t cure, though sleep seemed to grow rarer by the day.

  The door opened and Jovan stood there.

  “Oh, hello Jovan. I didn’t realize you were in with Allric.”

  Jovan looked her up and down. “Apexia’s tits, you look like death.”

  “Yes, well, that’s what happens to Elorians who don’t sleep for several days when they are injured.”

  Jovan grunted an acknowledgement. “Well, best you come in and get it over with.”

  Inside, Allric looked only mildly better than she felt. His eyes were red and tired, and a heavy frown settled on his face, making him look older.

  Jovan took a chair in front of Allric’s desk. Bethany opted to stand. Anxious to fall into a deep sleep, Bethany quickly relayed the events of the previous thirty hours, from the arrival at the orphanage to the uneventful return to the temple.

  “Kiner has dispatched troops to the other orphanages in the area, including any run by the Order of Apexia.”

  She nodded, acutely aware that Allric had yet to make eye contact with her.

  “Very good. Get some sleep, then,” Allric said, focusing on the papers littering his normally tidy desk. “We’ll talk about this more tomorrow.”

  Bethany caught a significant glance between Jovan and Allric. “What?”

  They both looked at her this time. Neither spoke.

  She eyed both of them. “There’s something else, isn’t there?”

  “It can wait,” Jovan said, warning in his looks.

  Bethany shook her head. “No, it can’t.”

  “Lady Bethany,” Allric began, sending a shiver down her spine. He never called her by rank when they were alone. “You have been accused of assisting in the death of a child.”

  Bethany opened her mouth and then snapped it shut. Fear clenched her stomach muscles. Did he mean Amber’s child? She focused on keeping calm, in case it was something else. No point in causing more trouble. “What are you talking about?”

  He stared at her. Hard. She flinched. “I am talking about Amber visiting a midwife. Do you deny it?”

  The sensation of her stomach dropping hit Bethany. A heavy weight pressed on her chest. Still, she stood as straight as possible and returned his stare. “I have no reason to deny it. Yes, I took Amber.”

  Allric’s eyes narrowed. “Then, you admit that you helped kill a child?”

  Bethany’s shoulders tightened with indignation. “She wanted to end her pregnancy. I helped her access a midwife. How could you say I killed a child? Today, of all days.”

  Allric glared up at her from his seated position. “You defied me.”

  “Defied you?” She took a step closer and slammed her hands on the edge of the desk. Paper jumped. “Amber was raped, Allric. Raped at the hands of my own sister.”

  “That girl —,” Allric said, standing up.

  “That woman,” Bethany interrupted, shouting over him, “has suffered more than any of us could possibly imagine. I refuse to make her suffer anymore by bringing forth a child she never wanted.”

  Jovan stood. He held out his hands as if the desk wasn’t barrier enough. “Beth, Allric, calm down. Let’s talk about this when everyone’s gotten a good rest.”

  Allric ignored him. “So you decide to defy the laws of the Goddess and me?”

  Bethany leaned back to stand straight. Allric was taller and a lot broader than her. She felt the need to match his physical size as best she could to stand her ground. “She is not some whore you caught in Jovan’s bunk.”

  “Hey!” Jovan snapped. He pointed at her. “Look, I’ve been defending you in this…this madness. But Bethany, you snuck past your guards and endangered yourself to break the law.”

  Bethany pointed at Allric. “He is speaking like all of the gods, dead or alive or whatever, are these holy beings.” She glared back at Allric. Her heart raced. “We all know my mother whored around with whoever my father is, giving off bastard offspring at her whim. And, let’s not forget that was when she was still a human. Aneese even said Apexia slept with any uniform that tickled her fancy. She was a whore and I’m certain she knew how to prevent any… problems.” She snorted and looked away. “These are elven rules, not hers.”

  “You think your mother is a whore?” Allric asked, folding his massive arms across his wide chest.

  “You are missing the point. I took Amber because Sarissa is looking for her. She needed protection. It was Amber’s choice to end the pregnancy. It’s a part of her culture. It’s acceptable to them. Now she can put it all behind her.”

  Allric’s tone did not mellow. “It isn’t acceptable to me.”

  “Your feelings don’t matter.”

  He motioned in Jovan’s direction and said, “I suppose Jovan’s whore went with her.”

  “Allric…”

  “I went alone with Amber,” Bethany lied. No point could be served by dragging Eve into the argument.

  Jovan sat back down and glared at Allric, until he relented and settled back into his chair. After taking a deep breath, Allric asked in a softer tone, “What if she dies?”

  Bethany swallowed back her anger. “There isn’t any guarantee she’d live through childbirth.”

  Allric leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms once again. “Is your job done now or will you be there to pick up the pieces when she sees a baby in his mother’s arms? How about when she feels the ache of her empty womb?”

  “Trust Amber to know her own wants and needs.” She groaned. “Stop being a four hundred year old virgin and use your common sense.”

  She winced as the words tumbled from her mouth and waited for the brunt of Allric’s tongue. But it did not come. Instead, shock came over his face.

  “Beth! Watch your mouth,” Jovan snapped.

  Allric cocked an eyebrow and his shock morphed into scorn. “I don’t turn four hundred for a few months yet.”

  She closed her eyes. “I’m sorry, Allric. It’s been a long day.”

  Allric scratched the top of his ear that missed its tip. She knew whatever he was thinking was going to sting her. “You were also raised to maintain chastity vows. Though, if I were to listen to temple gossip, Arrago will soon be taking you to the midwife.”

  “That’s enough.” Jovan slammed his fist on Allric’s desk and jumped to his feet. “Both of you are insane. Allric, I know your feelings on abortion but Amber has made her choice. Bethany provided safety to a person in need, which is what the Lady Champion does.” He pointed his finger at Bethany. “You shouldn’t be going anywhere without your guards. You snuck out to avoid Allric’s wrath. Well, if you are going to make decisions that you know will piss us off, have the balls to be upfront about it. Even if you don’t come by them naturally.”

  Allric stared at her, his eyes cold and angry. “You are dismissed, Lady Bethany.”

  She squared her shoulders and said, “I do not apologize for my actions. But I am sorry that, because of them, I may have lost your respect.”

  Bethany walked out, shutting the oak door behind her. The knot inside her grew, as it often did after verbal conflict. Looking back at the door o
nce more, she marched to her room. She used to be like him, blindly following elven tradition. Now, she saw things through the eyes of humans. She saw things the new way.

  Allric was wrong.

  Partway down the corridor, she stopped. She turned on her heel and made her way to Jovan’s room. Eve should be back by now. There was something the Rygent could do for her: throwing away the rest of her traditions.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  The Gods will show the Diamond the correct path. If she chooses the one from the shadows, the world will sink into despair.

  —Prophecy of the Diamond, First Tablet

  Bethany slammed back her third glass of wine, the fruity taste lingering on her lips and tempting her to drink more. She stared at the dark bottle then back at her empty glass. Her senses in need of a good dulling, she guzzled straight from the bottle, relishing its warmth in her belly. Arrago would arrive at any moment. Hopefully, the bottle would give her enough liquid courage for the plan.

  She moved around her room to survey it. The balcony screens were shut and the heavy privacy drapes blocked out the setting sun and the prying eyes of Kiner, whom she knew was positioned in the adjacent tower with archers.

  Just another security measure, Jovan had said. Regardless, she didn’t want an audience.

  Beeswax candles burned and flickered around the room. Dried orange slices warmed in the oil diffuser. Clean linens, starched and ironed, neatly dressed her bed. A small food platter—small in Elorian terms, anyway—overtook Bethany’s bedside stand. Eve had told her to include the food; they might get hungry, she’d said.

  She picked up the tinted glass jar from her nightstand. Where to put it where it wouldn’t be forgotten in the morning? She scanned the room and decided to place it next to the washbasin. Eve had said to take only a sprinkle of the dried herbs the morning after. It would prevent any complications.

  Her hazy reflection in the mirror caught her attention and she stopped to fuss with the bows on her dress. Eve had lent her a heavily patterned silk dress that was too curvy for Bethany’s lean frame. She tried pressing flat the fabric around her hips in vain. She felt awkward, more so than if she had been naked. She lacked the nerve to appear naked when Arrago opened the door. And Eve insisted wearing a dress would be enough of an announcement to even the dumbest of men that tonight was different.