The Godling Chronicles:Book 05 - Madness of the Fallen

by Brian D. Anderson

  Lee nodded. “I know. But it’s one thing to say such things, and another to actually believe them. Especially when she is here…alive and warm.” His eyes turned to Penelope. She looked back at him, smiling through a veil of sorrow and longing.

  There was a long silence, at first simply because all three of them were unsure what to say next. Later, it became more the fear of where an unwise remark might lead.

  “Nothing needs to be decided tonight,” Penelope eventually said.

  “And just how long has your master given you?” asked Jacob, not hiding his scorn.

  Penelope did not appear hurt and only shrugged. “A few days at least, I think. And I would see Millet before I depart. Even if I am to travel on alone.”

  Her words stung Lee. “So you intend to leave us, regardless of what we decide?”

  “I must,” she replied. “My destination is the only choice I am left with. I will not be permitted to stay. I will go into the desert - alone if it comes to that.”

  There was another long pause.

  “Then we shall enjoy our time together for now,” said Lee.

  Jacob forced himself to look into his mother’s eyes. His expression slowly softened, and this time he did not resist when she embraced him.

  They talked for a short time longer, though both Lee and Jacob were careful not to speak of anything that might compromise their plans.

  “I am so very tired,” Penelope eventually told them. She smiled lovingly at Lee.

  Jacob, understanding her meaning, embraced his mother once more and excused himself.

  “He has become quite a man since last I saw him,” she said approvingly, once he’d departed.

  Lee nodded in agreement. “He is stronger than I could have ever hoped for. And far wiser than I was at his age. He has made me very proud.”

  “You should have seen him as a boy. He was just like you. Rash and ruled by his heart.”

  Lee chuckled. “Thankfully, it didn’t take him nearly as long to gain some maturity. A character flaw I still struggle with.”

  “I don’t know,” Penelope said playfully. “I’ve always enjoyed the childish side of your nature.” She rose to her feet, pulling him up with her. “But if you would forgive me, I think we have talked enough.”

  Lee’s heart began to beat rapidly. Only with a great effort was he able to keep his breathing steady. He led Penelope from the parlor and upstairs to his bed chamber.

  He could only watch silently as she dimmed the lanterns and approached him with graceful, seductive steps. He had dreamed of her so often – the curves of her hips, the softness of her touches – and now that she was actually with him again, he felt like a newlywed youth. But of course, the truth was that she’d always had this effect on him.

  Lee felt the heat of her body even before she was within arm’s length. He reached out for her, his breaths coming in short, excited gasps. The moment he touched her, she melted into his arms. They kissed with complete abandon. For an instant he worried that he might hurt her with the strength of his passion, but a long moan of pleasure quickly dispelled this concern.

  He lifted her with his powerful arms and carried her over to the bed, their lips never parting for a second. As he lay her gently down, he took a moment to bask in her beauty. The moonlight shining in through the window cast a blue aura around her entire form. Her eyes twinkled like a pair of flawless sapphires.

  “I have waited so long for this,” she whispered.

  “As have I,” he replied. “And I have made my decision.”

  * * * * *

  The next morning Lee awoke late. Later in fact, than he had done since his youthful days. All the years of loneliness and hardship had been washed away. He looked beside him to where Penelope had fallen asleep and felt a sudden chill of panic - she was no longer there. He was just about to call out when the door opened. She entered the room wearing a red cotton dress and a pair of black silk slippers. Her hair had been combed to a beautiful sheen and was tied back into a ponytail by a strip of red cloth.

  “I needed to find a change of clothing,” she explained with a mischievous grin. “My dress is…well, let’s just say I can no longer wear it.” She spun in a rapid circle, the cloth swishing around her curves. Once again Lee’s heart began to race. “Luckily, it seems that the lord of this manor was not unaccustomed to having female guests. I found this.”

  “It looks as if it were made for you,” remarked Lee. “The lord was a friend of mine. I would introduce you, but sadly he passed away.”

  Penelope frowned. “I am sorry. But soon death will be something neither of us will have to worry about for some time.” She paused and cocked her head. “Assuming that your mind is still set?”

  Lee nodded. “It is. But you must allow me to tell Millet and Jacob of our intentions.”

  She crossed the room as though her feet were not touching the floor and kissed him softly on his cheek. “I heard them downstairs. Should I wait for you?”

  “No need,” he replied. “Jacob will have told Millet everything by now. I’m sure he’s impatient to see you.”

  She gave him a playful peck on the nose and danced gracefully out of the room. Lee lay back in the bed for a minute, yet again turning over in his mind what had happened. His decision was indeed made, but he was far from comfortable with it.

  He washed and dressed, then made his way downstairs to a glass enclosed patio at the rear of the house. The warmth of the midday sun was making the air muggy, but it also brought forth the sweet scent of honeysuckle and lavender from the garden. He could hear his wife’s laughter long before he reached them.

  Millet Jacob and Penelope were all sitting around a small round table in the center of the patio, smiling and talking. Millet looked happy to see Penelope, but Lee had known him long enough to detect that his cheer was disguising a deep concern.

  “You look rested,” said Millet as Lee sat down.

  The table was filled with fruits, breads and a large pitcher of cool peach cider. Lee listened as Millet regaled his wife with tales of their adventures, in true form never forgetting to tell of the many times when he saved the day after Lee had leaped before he looked.

  Jacob pretended to listen, but his eyes kept darting between his mother and father. Lee could feel his suspicion, and see his unease in the way he constantly shifted in his chair.

  They talked for an hour and ate at a leisurely pace. Eventually, Millet passed a comment about the beads of sweat forming on Penelope’s brow.

  “I’m unaccustomed to the heat,” she explained.

  Of course, Lee thought, reflecting on what he knew Millet was thinking. Angrääl is cold.

  They adjourned to the downstairs parlor and took seats: Lee beside his wife on a sofa, with Millet and Jacob across from them in a pair of matching armchairs. It was clear that the time for more serious talk had arrived.

  Lee poured everyone a glass of plum brandy.

  “You have no idea how happy I am to see you, My Lady,” said Millet. He leaned forward. “But I am aware of who you are forced to serve, as well as why you are here.”

  Penelope sighed and laughed kindly. “I am so very glad that Lee has had your wisdom to guide him all these years. And you are right to be suspicious. Should I be told of your plans, I would not be able to keep the information secret. Which is why I am grateful that you have guarded your tongue. But know this - I am only here to be with my family. The Reborn King may have other designs for us, but I am not aware of them, nor am I conspiring against my son and husband. At least, not knowingly. He wants Lee out of the way. That much doesn’t take a great mind to see. And though it hurts to know that I am the enemy, I am still the woman you knew. That has not changed, and never will.”

  She drew in a deep breath. “I have lived for years without my family. Difficult as that was to bear, I have always told myself that it was for the greater good, and that the gods had set my husband to an important task.” The hint of a smile appeared. “Well, the t
ime has now come for that task to be set aside. I cannot be free of my king. But nor can I pretend I am not filled with joy that his schemes are finally bringing my family back together.”

  “And what do you say?” Millet asked Lee.

  Lee lowered his head and steadied his nerves. The tension was palpable as both Millet and Jacob awaited his answer. He looked up, his eyes going from Millet to Jacob, then back again.

  “The war is over for me,” he announced. “My heart will not allow me to continue.” He could see both men sit back in unison. “I know you will object, but I will not be dissuaded.”

  “And what do you expect me to do?” snapped Jacob, his face red with fury. “Go with you? After all we’ve been through, do you really expect me to serve Angrääl? It was the Reborn King who deceived me in the first place. He has invaded our land, enslaved and murdered our people, and as far as I can see....” His top lip curled in disgust. “He has killed my mother.”

  Penelope grabbed hold of Lee’s hand, desperate for reassurance. He looked at her and could see that her heart was breaking. This was the part of his choice he had not told her about.

  “I thought you would say this,” Lee said to Jacob. He pulled his wife’s hand into his lap. “I did not think you would come. Nor do I want you to.”

  “What?” exclaimed Penelope, jerking her hand free. “I thought–”

  “I will come with you, my love,” said Lee. “But I will not allow Jacob to follow. I do not believe your master will honor his promise. And if I am right about this, I do not want our son anywhere near me when his true plan is revealed. Though Jacob is in danger if he remains in Baltria, here at least he has a chance to live. In spite of anything you may say, I believe in Gewey Stedding. I believe he will defeat the Dark Knight and restore peace to the world. If you are truly the woman I love, you will understand.”

  Penelope closed her eyes and wiped away the tears that were spilling down her cheeks. It took her a few moments to steady herself sufficiently to speak. “You are right. I know it. And I will trust in your wisdom.”

  “Then we must leave at once,” Lee told her. “My choice has made me a danger to Baltria.” He looked at Jacob. “Honor my decision and quell your anger. I simply could not bear the pain of losing her again…not for a third time. I beg your forgiveness.”

  Jacob glared at Lee, but slowly his posture relaxed. He nodded his head. “I can’t say that I understand. My heart tells me you are making a terrible mistake, and a part of it believes you are simply seeking the death you have spoken of so many times.”

  He looked directly at his mother. “And I don’t think I could ever forgive you for that.”

  Penelope’s eyes dropped, unable to meet his condemning gaze. “How I wish I could be as I was,” she said. “And how I wish I could say that all will be well in the end. But I can’t. All I can say is that I love you both, and would gladly meet my end to save you.”

  Lee put an arm around his wife’s shoulders. “Son. You must trust me when I tell you that this is the only way either of us will ever have a chance to be free.”

  He got to his feet. “Now I must speak to Millet alone. And if we are on our way to meet our fate, you should take this time to talk to your mother.”

  Jacob glanced sideways at her, but said nothing as Lee continued. “A piece inside of me died every time I thought of what I’d left unsaid to both of you when you were a child. Please Jacob, do not suffer as I did. She is here with you now, and you may never have another chance.”

  He nodded to Millet and the two of them moved off to leave Jacob and Penelope alone.

  They wandered around the back garden for a while until settling on a bench beside a small marble fountain.

  “Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” Millet asked. His head was bowed and his shoulders slumped, as if carrying a great weight.

  Lee was grateful that his old friend was not trying to dissuade him. He gave a crooked smile. “To be honest, no. But the moment I saw her again, I knew I couldn’t bear for us to be parted. And to keep her here would mean–”

  “To keep her here would mean us having to imprison her.” Millet completed for him. He sighed. “I would not wish to be responsible for that, either.” Leaning back, he met Lee’s eyes with understanding and forgiveness. “Where will you go?”

  “The desert,” he replied. “She can do no harm there. And neither can I should the Dark Knight break my will further.” He squeezed Millet’s shoulder fondly. “Take care of my son. If given the chance, he’ll be a great man. Far greater than I ever hoped to be.”

  Millet could not find the words to express the deep sorrow and boundless respect he was feeling at that moment. But Lee understood anyway. Between the two friends, such words were unnecessary. They sat listening to the sounds of the city until the afternoon threatened to turn into evening.

  When the sun fully set, Lee would leave Baltria. He would leave Millet. And he would leave his son…for the final time.

  Chapter 23

  It was many mortal lifetimes since Felsafell had been so close to a city while in his true form. The last time didn’t go well, he recalled. The elves became fearful and had tried to capture him. Would it have made any difference, he wondered, had they had known how closely they were related? He doubted it. The elves of that era were a brutish lot: confused and full of rage.

  From outside the Althetas city walls he could easily hear the bustle of people within: working, seeking entertainment, and spending time with friends and family. All of the things that brought mortals together. And all of the things that he missed about having living kin.

  For a while he listened beyond these common sounds, but could hear nothing unusual. If Melek was close by, then he was certainly not drawing attention to himself.

  The army returning from the south had been divided in two. One half had marched east for twenty miles and was currently awaiting orders. The other half had been set to work repairing damage to the city. The all too familiar smell of recent battle was still hanging in the air.

  The king had returned three days ago amid tremendous fanfare, but from Felsafell’s vantage point of more than a mile away he could not tell if the mad god was accompanying him. Word of how Melek destroyed the invading armies of Angrääl had spread like wildfire, and the mood inside Althetas was one of hope and joy. The enemy was all but defeated - or so everyone imagined. Felsafell pitied the humans and elves. To be given such hope, only to have it stripped away was a miserable thing. And he was certain this was exactly what Melek intended to do.

  Within a day of the king’s return there was a subtle change. The people began speaking about ‘The Messenger of Darshan’ rather than of Melek directly. It appeared as if he was doing all he could to win Gewey’s support and favor. But to what end, Felsafell wondered?

  He could still see the once proud cities of his people crumbling before the wrath of the mad god. The screams of those who would not bow before him still haunted Felsafell’s dreams. Just once had he seen Melek up close, and for this he had barely escaped being consumed by flames. It was Melek who had shown his people destruction and pain for the first time – a concept they later used to cause themselves immeasurable harm. Though his name and deeds were erased from all records and never spoken aloud, his people never forgot. To them he was always Melek: The Bringer of True Death.

  Felsafell had circled the city walls many times in the hope that listening to talk amongst the inhabitants would lead him to a course of action. But Melek was not behaving as he once had by marching boldly through the streets and imposing his evil will. In fact, after the second day it was the name of Darshan – and not Melek - that was being spoken of as the savior of the battle.

  Avoiding detection by humans and elves had so far been simple. Even when they thought they'd seen something, Felsafell’s incredible speed allowed him to disappear before they could be sure he was actually there. He marveled at how much trust had been built between the races in so short a time
. All the patrols were now integrated, and they had found ways to complement their inherent strengths. Though physically weaker and unable to use the flow, humans showed an uncanny sense of knowing when something was not quite as it should be. Many times it was the humans who had spotted him in the shadows, even if only for a split second. And when the elves could find no one there, they did not ridicule their new comrades for being wrong. Rather, they respected the human’s instincts and became ever more cautious as they patrolled.

  It was well past midnight when he began his search for the best spot along the wall to enter Althetas. There was nothing more he could learn from eavesdropping outside. Now he would have to risk the city itself. He smiled at the fact that, had he remained in the form of a doddering old fool, he could have simply walked in through the main gates unnoticed. But the transformation would take too long. Last time it was three days, and rushing it was painful beyond imagining.

  He made his way toward a section of wall where there was a large warehouse on the other side. From there he would be able to make his way to the king’s manor with less chance of encounters. What he would do after arriving was still uncertain at this stage.

  He paused at the base of the wall and listened carefully. All was quiet at present. He was about to leap up and over - a feat that would certainly cause a stir if witnessed - when he caught a foul yet familiar scent. Six Vrykol were approaching from the southeast. He backed away and raced toward the tree line two hundred yards away. A few people were still about, but his immense speed made him seem like a blur to their eyes – gone before they could be even sure something was there.

  Just seconds after taking up position behind a thick oak he saw the Vrykol change their course and move in his direction. He was clearly their target. But who had sent them; the Reborn King or Melek? They were spread in a wide semi-circle that gradually tightened as they drew closer. Felsafell knew he could still evade them, but if he did, he would risk having to abandon his objective. That was unthinkable, so he would have to deal with the beasts quickly.