Gods & Dragons: 8 Fantasy Novels

by Daniel Arenson

  In daylight it looked less fearsome. Its fur had dried out, much of it caked with blood and dirt. Flies buzzed about it, and it stank something unholy. All of its teeth were gone, and along its chest were at least twenty punctures new to Jerico.

  “You let him mutilate the corpse?” he asked, though he already knew the answer. He just hoped he might somehow be wrong.

  “Do you know a better way to move on after the death of a loved one?” Darius asked, lifting an eyebrow. “Here is his beloved’s killer, and though it is dead, I still gave him a chance to exact his revenge. It accomplishes nothing, and after a while, Bobby learned this as well. So I told him to take its teeth, and fashion a necklace so he might never forget.”

  “Bobby is a gentle soul,” Jerico said, his stomach turning. He ran a hand through his red hair, his fingers gently touching the knot on the back of his head. It felt the size of his thumb. “He once paddled his daughter, then came to me to ask if it were right. Meanwhile, half this village wallops sense into their children at the slightest mistake. How could you let him do this?”

  “Because he spoke to me of wanting to die,” Darius said, yanking Jerico closer. “Would you counsel him love and forgiveness for the beast that ate his family? Would you promise him a better life in the world he wants to kill himself to enter? I gave him a desire for vengeance, and through that, a desire to live. You would have him remember his loved ones. Instead, I have him remember their murderer, and as long as he thinks of it, he is not wallowing in sorrow for himself and his family.”

  Darius let go of his tunic.

  “Bobby’s organizing a group of men to go into the Wedge,” he said. “They want us to go with them.”

  “Will you?”

  The dark paladin shot him a wink.

  “I gave him his desire for vengeance. Do you think I’d abandon him after that? Question is, will you come with us? I never am certain, given Ashhur’s rather womanly tendencies. You’d scout for more, yes, but will you come for revenge?”

  Jerico glanced into town, trying to decide. Of course Ashhur frowned upon revenge, but still, the entire safety of Durham might depend on their success. Besides, if something went wrong, many lives would be in danger. Could he turn his back on them?

  “I don’t like it,” Jerico said. “But perhaps it should be done.”

  “They’re just beasts,” Darius said, slapping Jerico across the back. “Filthy, vicious beasts. We’ll put them down, just like any other rabid animal.”

  Looking at the hulking form suspended by ropes, Jerico couldn’t suppress a shudder.

  “Any other animal?” he muttered as Darius walked away. Before he could decide for certain, he trudged back to the village. The streets were barren, for with autumn speeding by, the men and women were harvesting every bit of nut, fruit, and grain they could find or grow. He realized Bobby had not been there for his sermon like he usually was, and this fact squirmed in his gut like a snake. Needing to talk to him, he found the man’s home, and sure enough, he was there instead of out in the fields with the others.

  “Morning, Jerico,” Bobby said. He sat on his porch in a small chair, his shoulders stooped and his leathery skin pale. His eyes had a glazed, distant look to them. In his lap, he held a necklace of teeth.

  “Missed you at the square,” Jerico said, leaning against the house. “Something the matter?”

  “Sure is.”

  “Care to talk about it?”

  Bobby finally looked at him as his fingers worked over the sharp edges of the teeth.

  “Darius said you’d try to talk me out of going,” he said.

  “I’m only here to listen, friend.”

  “He said you’d say that too, but it’d be a lie.”

  Jerico rolled his eyes. “Lying’s not my style.”

  Bobby grunted and looked away. He cut himself on one of the teeth, but if he felt it, he didn’t let it show. Faint smears of blood started to spread across the yellow and white.

  “I heard her screaming,” he said. “I’d gone outside to piss, you know. That’s all. And then, as I’m coming back, I hear her screaming. Just Susie, not my little girls or my boy. Do you think that means they died quicker? Maybe in their sleep? It didn’t…it didn’t…”

  Tears rolled down his face. Determined to remain true to his word, Jerico kept silent, letting the man say what he clearly needed to say.

  “It didn’t even eat them, only my wife. Killed them for no reason, that fucking wolf. But Susie was alive when he was…eating. And it left me alive too, just looked at me and laughed. That damn thing laughed. I don’t know if the one you killed was the one that came here. I’ll never know. But I’ll kill every last one I can find and hope each one is that bastard. And I’ll laugh every time I kill one, Jerico.”

  “I’m sorry,” Jerico said. “But this isn’t right, and you know it.”

  Bobby looked up, and Jerico saw a rage there that frightened him.

  “You think I care about what’s right? I’ve lived right my whole life, and look what it got me. Someone ought to do something, so I will. No one else needs to see what I saw, and there ain’t anything you can say to convince me otherwise.”

  Jerico stepped back. He felt helpless, overwhelmed by the man’s grief. What could he tell him? That Ashhur worked in mysterious ways? That it was her time, her fate to have her belly shredded, her flesh ripped and swallowed while she was still screaming?

  “I’ll pray for you, Bobby,” he said.

  “Thanks, Jerico, but I don’t think it’ll do much good.”

  He stood and carried his blood-stained necklace into his house. When he shut the door, Jerico stood there staring long after. A hundred thoughts swirled through his head, but one in particular struck him with such certainty he knew he couldn’t deny it.

  He couldn’t let this happen again.

  His armor and shield were waiting for him in his room. There was a reason he carried them with him, a reason every paladin dressed for war. This was one of them. Come dusk, he’d join the rest. Come the night, they’d venture into the Vile Wedge, the land of orcs and monsters.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Gary Reed kissed his wife to cease her protesting.

  “I’ll come back, I promise,” he said, his hands brushing through her long hair.

  He knew she wanted to believe him, but her tears fell all the same, and he wiped one away with his thumb.

  “You better,” she said.

  Taking his sword, he left his home and walked to the town center. Fifteen men gathered there, a third of them holding torches. The rest held knives, pitchforks, and the occasional sword. They surrounded Bobby, who lifted a torch high above his head.

  “It means a lot,” Gary heard him saying as he neared. “Can’t tell you all just how much, but it does. My Susie would be damn proud, I do know that. We can’t let anyone else get hurt.”

  “Damn straight,” shouted an older man named Trent, the closest thing Durham had to a blacksmith.

  “We ain’t sheep for them to hunt,” said another, Gary recognizing this one as a fat farmer named Gruss.

  “But you are sheep!” cried a voice separate from them all, and the crowd turned. Darius approached them, wearing his full plate armor, which seemed to soak in the light of the setting sun, giving it a frightful look. Painted in white across his breastplate was the face of a roaring lion. He kept his greatsword sheathed on his back, and Gary was thankful. He’d seen the dark paladin draw it only twice, but both times the fire that glowed upon it had made him uneasy. There was something unnatural about it, as if instead of giving light it stole it and hid it away.

  “Sheep,” Darius continued, for none dared challenge him. “That is, until you take up arms, as you have. This land belongs to the strong. It is weakness that lets men ignore the dangers about them, causes them to remain quiet in the face of injustice, to turn blind eyes to the chaos of this world. Tonight you do more than make his Susie proud. Tonight you do yourselves proud, your familie
s, and your entire village! Let the wolf-men fear our wrath!”

  The rest cheered, and Gary joined in. He still clung to his youth, his only child still in her second year, and he keenly felt the call for strength and pride. His sword shook in his hand, but it was from excitement, not fear.

  “To the river!” cried Bobby, and the rest took up the call.

  “To the river!”

  Gary followed, imagining the cheer he’d receive if he were to behead a wolf-man. Bobby insisted there would only be one or two nearby, three at most. With the group of them, plus the dark paladin at their front, they would crush any of the monsters they encountered. Gruss liked to brag about the time he beat down two men from Ker unarmed, and Trent would go on for days about the jeweled bracelet he fashioned decades ago for an elven queen (whose name changed depending on how drunk he was), but who could top the bravery of him facing down a wolf-man and plunging his blade through its eye?

  At the town’s edge, a man slipped into the group beside Gary, remaining at the back. His red hair was long and well-cut. He wore silvery armor, heavy plate that made Gary feel naked in his simple farmer’s clothing. At his hip swung a flanged mace, its grip leather, its metal dark. Across his back hung his enormous shield.

  “Coming with us, Jerico?” Gary asked the paladin of Ashhur, unable to contain his excitement. “That’s great. The wolves don’t stand a chance now.”

  Jerico glanced down at his breastplate, and Gary saw the thick scratches across its front, dulling the shine. Some of Gary’s excitement faded, replaced with a cold fear in his belly.

  “I pray they don’t,” said the paladin, his face grim.

  They arrived at the river. Gruss had agreed to let them take his boat, which he used for the rare trip south to sell extra crops to Ashhur’s paladins at their Citadel. It seated four, but only Darius and two others crossed the first time, not wishing to overload it because of his heavy armor. Back and forth the boat went, taking several minutes for each trip. The river was wide and slow, its waters cold from the mountain streams that fed it. Gary hung back with Jerico, feeling safer at his side.

  “We’ll be able to kill them, won’t we?” Gary asked as his nerves continued to grow. He felt fine when moving, as if filled with a sense of purpose, but now that he stood at the edge of a dark forest, watching a small boat travel back and forth across the Gihon, he felt his confidence falter.

  “Darius and I killed one by ourselves,” Jerico said, smiling at him. “And with all of you here, we can handle many more. But do not hope for combat, nor a chance to be a hero. Pray we all come home safe, and that your village will never see another one of those wicked creatures for many, many years.”

  Gary shifted uncomfortably on his feet, and he stared at the leaf-strewn ground.

  “I just don’t want to be a coward,” he mumbled.

  The paladin put a hand on his shoulder, and when he looked over, his eyes were kind and unafraid.

  “I know you well enough, Gary, to say there isn’t the slightest chance of that.” He pointed to the shore. “Our turn.”

  Darius was organizing men into groups of five on the other bank when they beached.

  “Jerico,” he called, seeing their boat arrive. “Care to lead a smaller group, or would you rather remain up front with me?”

  “Four groups should be enough,” said Jerico. “Give me the smaller, and I shall watch our flank.”

  Darius pointed at Gary, the paladin, and a third bearing a torch. As he neared, Gary recognized him as the eldest son of his neighbor, a good lad named Dirk. He wasn’t even fifteen yet.

  “What in the Abyss are you doing here?” Gary asked him. “Your pa know you’re out?”

  Dirk blushed and refused to meet his eye.

  “It won’t hurt none,” he mumbled.

  “This ain’t a deer hunt, boy.”

  “It’s all right,” Jerico said, pulling his shield off his back. A soft blue-white glow came over it, and immediately Gary felt his anxiety sliding away as it bathed over him. “Stay at my side at all times, Dirk, and keep your torch raised high. The wolf-men hate fire, and the light will hurt their eyes.”

  “Fight with honor!” Darius shouted. “I have their trail, and they will not dare run from our challenge.”

  Darius led the way, four of their strongest at his side, three wielding swords, one dual-wielding a torch and dagger. The other two groups marched behind and at either side. Jerico let them gain a bit of distance, then followed.

  Gary felt his stomach twist into knots as they walked deeper into the Vile Wedge. It was said that the elven goddess Celestia cursed the land after the Gods’ War, ruining the soil and stripping the land of wildlife. Gary didn’t know if this were true or not, for this was his first time within. The grass was a pale yellow, though that could have been because of autumn’s arrival, not any curse. There were no trees beyond the edge of the river, instead long, sloped hills looking barren in the growing moonlight. A thousand campfire stories ran through his head, and try as he might, he couldn’t banish them. The Wedge was rumored to hold all kinds of villainous creatures, from orcs and goblins to the various animal-men, all twisted and formed to fight in the Gods’ War. The wolf-men were one such creation, and of all the stories, he knew at least they existed. He’d seen the corpse tied at the town’s entrance.

  Deeper and deeper into the Wedge they traveled. Dirk grew increasingly nervous, but strangely, that made Gary feel better. His pride refused to let him show fear to a young boy approaching manhood.

  “Maybe they’ve turned tail and run,” he said.

  “You sure Darius knows where they are?” Dirk asked. “I don’t see no tracks.”

  Gary had looked himself and saw nothing in the light of the torch and Jerico’s shield.

  “Too many men ahead of us marching over them,” Jerico said. “Trust him, and the others.”

  The river was but a distant shimmer when they heard the first howl of a wolf. It cut through him like a knife, and for the first time it seemed like Gary realized where he was, and what he was doing. He looked to his sword, an old relic passed down for four generations. He hadn’t even sharpened it before coming out, ignorant of the proper way and not thinking to check with Trent. Men from the other three groups were certainly thinking something similar, for he heard them muttering among themselves.

  A second wolf howled, this time from the opposite side.

  “Careful, Darius,” Jerico whispered. It did little to help Gary’s already crumbling bravery.

  They followed the lead groups into a gap between two gentle hills, their slopes hardly taller than a man. Their pace had slowed considerably, and Jerico lessened the distance between them and the others. When the howls came again, they echoed all around them. Gary swallowed, his mouth feeling stuffed with cotton. Beside him, the torch shook in Dirk’s hand.

  “Just two,” Jerico said. “Either side of the hills. Don’t panic. Stay with me, always with me.”

  Several of the men on the right cried out and pointed. Gary looked but saw only the hill. Another howl sounded, this one directly behind them. He spun, his knuckles white as he gripped his sword. The grass was empty. Someone from the lead group startled and was swiftly ordered quiet. More and more howling, and this time it was the men on the left who pointed. Gary caught sight of a dark blur, and he couldn’t believe how fast it glided over the hill, vanishing on the other side.

  Their groups halted, each one facing a direction. Moments later, Darius arrived and grabbed Jerico by the arm.

  “Surrounded,” he whispered. Gary stared back to the river, pretending he didn’t hear and almost wishing he couldn’t. Blurred shapes approached, hovering low to the ground. His heart crawled up his throat.

  “How many?” Jerico asked.

  “I don’t know. Seven? Nine?”

  “We need out of here, Darius. We aren’t prepared, not for those numbers. Such a large pack—”

  The wolf-men howled, and it came from all sides, me
rging together so that Gary couldn’t begin to know how many there were. He imagined hordes of the creatures, enough to blot out the eastern grasslands, snarling and howling while drool dripped from their fangs…

  Jerico grabbed his mace, and Darius drew his greatsword. Dark fire bathed its blade.

  “We hold!” Karak’s paladin cried.

  “To the river, Darius, we must flee to the river!”

  “No! We hold, all of you men, hold, we will hold!”

  He rushed to the front, leaving the three there to defend. Jerico stood before them, his shield raised.

  “Cry out if any come from the side,” he told them. “Gary, stand firm, and watch for an opening. When you see it, do not hesitate. Do not be afraid. Kill it, and live.”

  “I don’t know if I can,” Gary said. The dark shapes grew more pronounced, three wolf-men running at horrific speed toward them.

  “You will,” Jerico said. Somehow a smile was across his face, and for the first time in their whole trip, he looked calm.

  The wolf-men howled just before colliding with their forces, hoping to break the spirits of the defenders. Jerico stood firm, his legs planted and his shield in place. The three approached side by side, and in unison they lunged. Gary watched, feeling as if his feet were buried deep into the ground. Dirk, however, let out a cry and swung his torch. The rightmost wolf-man, having focused on Jerico, howled and turned its head away. Its slash went wild, and then it dug its claws into the earth to slow its momentum.

  The other two slammed into Jerico. Gary expected him to fly back, unable to endure such power, but then the light of his shield flared. The wolf-men cried out in pain, and then it was they who fell back, one staggering on two legs, the other falling to all fours and snarling. It shook its head as if to clear away a fog. Jerico gave it no reprieve, stepping in and bashing its skull with his mace. It hit with a crack that made Gary’s stomach turn.

  The one that had sailed past returned, this time more carefully. Dirk waved his torch back and forth at it, as if shooing away a stray cat. At first Gary feared he’d been injured, seeing something slick on his clothes, but then realized the boy had lost control of his bladder. He couldn’t blame him. From up ahead, he heard constant screams of pain, snarls of wolves, and chaotic orders combined with pleading.