Song Of Fury (Gods Of Blood And Fire Book 2)

by A. J. STRICKLER

  “Perhaps later. For now, eat, drink. I will be back soon, it is time to begin.”

  “Begin what?” Kian said angrily.

  “You and I are going to get acquainted, Kian Cardan.”

  “I will not cooperate with anything you or the Circle wants.”

  “It would be in your best interest to accommodate us. For now, all we ask is simple conversation.”

  “I don’t even know who you are.”

  The cloaked woman opened the door to leave, hesitating only a moment before exiting. “I am called Tragedy,” she said as the door rasped shut.

  ***

  The Mistress stood over her prisoner. Ranjan only stared at the goddess with his mother’s pitiful eyes. He favored Penelope much more than Mantel. She wondered if he knew his mother was dead. The Queen of Hell started to ask him, but thought better of it. It would only distract him from his work.

  Ranjan had always used his uncanny skill for her and the other gods whenever called upon, always trying to stay neutral in their constant struggles for power. She didn’t like keeping the smith captive, but it could not be helped. The others could use him as she planned to. His creations could be what tipped the scale of power in her favor. “It is time for you to go to work, Ranjan.”

  He stood towering over the shorter goddess. “Then I will need to be free.”

  “Partially, the chain around your neck stays. I will have it lengthened so you can move around more freely, but it will remain connected to the stone.”

  The smith’s shoulders slumped. “What do you want?”

  “I need a special sword forged, and a suit of armor.”

  Ranjan began to clench and unclench his fists. “That will take very little time.”

  “Oh, it may take longer than you think. I told you it had to be special. I will bring the things we will need here; your forge will be set up near the Stone of Subjection very soon, so you can begin when I return.”

  Ranjan nodded his agreement. The Mistress vanished, leaving the imprisoned god wondering what he had consented to.

  Ashlyn had finished her performance; she could hear the band playing the clown’s silly music as they went about the business of making the crowd roar with laughter. She was sitting in the back on an old trunk, her legs pulled up and her head down. She tried to hide her tears from the other performers by wrapping her arms around her head, but the quiet sobs that shook her body revealed her broken heart to all that passed.

  A large hand gently rubbed her back with soft sympathetic strokes. The familiarity of the sensation gave her a much needed suggestion of comfort. Raising her head, Ashlyn gazed up at the rotund owner of the circus.

  Ergan’s large face was mostly hidden by his great white beard but she could see his bright blue eyes were filled with empathy for her. “There, there, child, what happened to my happy go lucky bird? Are you still upset about Lucan?”

  She gave him a teary-eyed nod.

  “The boy will figure out what he has given up and when he does, he will be back begging for your forgiveness.”

  Ashlyn wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her costume. “No, he won’t. If he isn’t killed in this stupid war, he will leave Masaria forever and forget all about me.”

  Ergan pulled her off the trunk and into one of his enormous embraces. “How could he ever forget my Fearless Falcon? If he could do that then he doesn’t deserve you anyway. You are a special girl, Ashlyn, I have told you this hundreds of times. You are beautiful, talented, and have the kindest of hearts, my dear. If Lucan is a big enough fool to let you go, I have no doubt you will find someone that realizes like I do that you are one of a kind.” He released her from his embrace and pinched her cheeks like he had when she was little. “The man who wins your love will be a lucky man indeed. Whether it be Lucan or another, your heart is a great prize, little one, worth more than all the gold in Masaria, never forget that.”

  Ashlyn stepped back and adjusted her tight costume, shaking her hair out of her puffy eyes. Ever since she was a little girl, the great ring master had always known what to say to make her feel better. “I know there are other men, but it's Lucan I love. I am so worried for him, Ergan; you didn’t see the men he joined. Cold-hearted killers each and every one. Lucan isn’t like them at all, he doesn’t have the heart of a warrior. He is gentle and kindhearted, that’s what I love about him, but he just won’t listen to reason…or me.” Ashlyn wrapped her arms around herself and looked up at the ceiling. “I will let him go if I must, but I don’t think I could bear it if anything happened to him.”

  The circus owner smiled. “Lucan has always been a little stubborn, and you’re right, the men he is with are sellswords, my dear, killing is their profession. You can’t watch over him now or worry yourself sick about what’s happening with him. There is only one way to do that and you said you didn’t want to leave the circus.”

  Ashlyn bit her lip and gave Ergan a sheepish look. “Do you think I could take some time just for a while? I could at least see that he is safe while he is still in the city. Spend our last days together before he leaves me forever.”

  The young woman’s lip quivered and she was on the verge of another round of tears. Ergan grabbed her by the chin and softly rubbed her eyes with his fat thumbs. “You know I will deny you nothing. Go, see to Lucan if it will make you feel better, but remember this, dear girl: when he leaves, do not follow. As dangerous as the streets of the Wheel are, they are nothing compared to a battlefield. I wouldn’t want to see any harm come to you. I don’t think my old heart could endure that, so you must promise me you won’t leave Gallio.”

  Though her tear-filled eyes, she gave him her sweetest smile. “I promise. Now eat lunch with me, you old bear.”

  Ergan took a deep breath and patted his stomach. “Lunch sounds wonderful, I am famished.” The circus owner hugged her once more. “You know I’m going to miss you terribly?”

  “I will miss you to you too, and don’t worry, I won’t be gone for long.”

  After they finished their lunch, Ergan waited for Ashlyn at the circus’s front entrance while she changed out of her costume. The girl was filled with excitement as she hurried past him.

  She smiled and jumped up to wrap her arms around his neck. Hugging him tightly, she promised to return very soon. Watching her walk out into the streets of the Wheel, he couldn’t help but remember her mother and father.

  He had just finished restoring the old dilapidated building to a modicum of its former glory when the two young performers had inquired about jobs. He had agreed to give the young lovers an audition.

  They had been magnificent, both bold and unafraid as they swung from the building’s rooftop. Gino and Miranda Sweet, He was from Trimenia and she had been born in Belanos. Gino was strong and bold, and Miranda’s features were so beautiful and delicate that Ergan thought she may have had a touch of elven blood, but he had never dared to ask her about it. Having few acts back then, he had hired the duo on the spot. He didn’t know then that their skill and daring on the high-wire and trapeze would help spring his circus from just an ordinary attraction to one of the biggest draws in the city.

  Ashlyn had been no more than two years old when they were killed. He had told her when she was older that there had been an accident and both had fallen to their deaths from the high-wire. It had been a lie.

  If he closed his eyes, he could still see Gino and Miranda lying in that filthy alley with their throats slit. Murdered for the small amount of gold they carried. It was a ghastly memory that he wished he could forget, and it was a truth he never wanted Ashlyn to know.

  The Sweets’ little girl had become a ward of the circus that horrible day, being raised by everyone from the animal trainers to the freaks in the sideshow, and they all had kept the truth of her parents' death a secret from their little orphan.

  Everyone had adored the pretty little child and helped with her care, but it was he that had truly raised her. He loved Ashlyn like she was his own child. In tim
e, the girl had become more skilled and daring than either of her parents. Not only on the wire and trapeze, her knife throwing and tumbling show was marvelous as well. The crowds loved her beauty and audacious style. She was his crowning achievement. Not only was Ashlyn a fantastic performer, she had become a fine woman as well. He couldn’t be more proud of her if she was his own daughter.

  Now he was afraid he might lose her for the love of a boy. He wanted to stop her, but that would only make her resent him and he couldn’t live with that. He would just have to have faith that her love for attention and fame would bring her back to the circus sooner rather than later. A grin spread across his face and he chuckled to himself, Ashlyn couldn’t go too long without the sound of applause, one day his little Falcon would fly back home.

  ***

  He found a secluded spot on the beach not far from the harbor. Rufio wasn’t fond of the sea, but the view here was nice, and Rachael seemed to like it. The young woman from Tara was truly beautiful with the ocean breeze blowing though her light brown hair and twisting her dress around her thin frame.

  They had become very close in the short time they had traveled together. Rufio loved the way Rachael moved, the way she smelled, and her delightful personality. She was shy and timid, but the woman from Tara had a very strong resolve when it came to the things she believed in. He hadn’t felt this way about anyone since he had been a young boy back in Dragita.

  He sat in the warm sand and leaned back on his hands, grinding them down into the hot beach. She stood near the water, letting the sea lap against her small feet and spreading her arms wide to let the warm sea air caress her body with its salty spray. By the gods, he loved her, and he knew in that moment, she was everything he wanted. His dreams of glory had been all but forgotten, replaced by dreams of this perfect woman.

  He stood up and brushed off the short tunic he wore and shook the sand out of his high-laced Dragitan sandals. Taking in a deep breath of the sea air, Rufio stretched his arms above his head.

  The company would soon be heading north to face the Church’s army; he needed to tell her how he felt. There may not be a chance for it later. No one had ever defeated any of the pope’s holy armies. If he was going to do this, now was the time.

  Rufio slowly walked up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and gently resting his chin on her shoulder. “Oh, Rufio, it’s so beautiful here. Someday I would love to live by the sea, just a small house, nothing fancy, as long as I had the sunshine and the surf.”

  “Would you mind if I lived there with you?” he whispered in her ear.

  Rachael turned, smiling, and threw her arms around the mercenary’s neck. “No, I don’t think I would mind that at all,” she said, blushing and looking down at her feet.

  He pulled her chin up with his hand and gazed adoringly into her eyes. “I love you, Rachael Morgan.”

  He felt her breath catch in her chest. She put her hand on the side of his face and kissed him passionately.

  Rachael pulled back, softly stroking his cheek. Her brows furrowed and her lips were pressed tightly together. “I love you too, Rufio, and you’re a good man, but what you do… How could we ever be together or have a family?”

  She had caught him off guard. He hadn’t thought past loving her. He had always been a soldier, he knew nothing else. Now he was a mercenary, and sellswords truly had no home, always moving from one battlefield to the next. He should have known a woman like Rachael would never want to live like that. He didn’t want to think about the future now, all he wanted at this moment was her. He started to kiss her again, but she held up her hand, stopping him.

  “Rufio, think for a second. K’xarr and the men you travel with are killers. My brother has fallen under their spell. All that talk of glory and gold has seduced him into their world of blood and death, and Morgana has taken up with that barbarian from Tora and God only knows where that will lead her. I am happy she is in love, but I don’t see Cromwell ever settling down to be a husband and a father. Neither of them can see the sad truth of it all. If Rhys and Morgana stay with Captain Strom, their lives will be filled with nothing but the horrors of war.” She shook her head and lowered her eyes. “I don’t want that, Rufio. I want a home and children and a good man to share my bed every night and tell me how much he loves me every day. I don’t want to wait in some town or village, surrounded by strangers and hoping the man I love comes back from someone else’s war whole and alive. I would never be able to endure the sight of you brought back to me draped over a horse or in some bloodstained cart. I truly love you, Rufio, but I could never share that life with you. As long as your life is one of war and death, our love can never be.”

  He released her from their embrace and turned his back. Gazing out at the open sea, Rufio stood in silence, torn by the loyalties inside him. What other decision could he make? He desired Rachael above all things. Without her, he would never be happy. This wasn’t what he had planned when the day started, but he saw no other choice. “I want to marry you, Rachael,” he said without looking at her. “Soldiering is all I know, but maybe I could find a place near the sea and raise horses. It would be hard at first, but I could do it with you beside me.” He turned back towards her with eyes filled with hope.

  Rachael clasped her hands under her chin. “I don’t want you to leave the company for me if it’s not what you want. In time, you would only come to resent me.”

  “I know I want you and if that means leaving the company then so be it. After this contract in Masaria, I will quit, and you and I can start a life together.”

  “If that’s what you want, why don’t you just leave now?” she asked.

  “The gold I will make will give us a good stake to start out. Besides, I can’t just leave K’xarr, I owe him and the others a great deal. They are my friends, and it would be wrong to just desert them now.”

  She walked to him and softly kissed his lips. “I suppose your honor is one of the reasons I love you so much. I will marry you, Rufio Rabinus Tullus. That is, if you will have me.”

  Rufio felt his heartbeat quicken. “I want nothing else.”

  She gave a little squeal of happiness and jumped into his arms. “Let’s go and tell everyone.”

  “Aye, but let’s keep the leaving part out. I want to talk to K’xarr about that on my own.”

  “Whatever you want, my love,” she said, twisting her fingers into his dark wavy hair.

  “Whatever I want?” Rufio said slyly as he eased her to the ground. They made love for the first time there on the beach. Afterwards, they laid in the warm sun, just looking into each other’s eyes, both daydreaming about the wonderful life they would have.

  ***

  She peeked around the corner of the barracks as Lucan landed on his back once again. She wanted to wait until he was finished sparring to make her presence known. He would be so happy that she had come back, but he didn’t need to know she had been watching him train. Lucan would be terribly embarrassed that she had seen his lackluster performance. Her stomach clenched and she lowered her head each time he hit the ground. He was simply dreadful. The huge barbarian was yelling at him and doing his best to try to make Lucan understand what he wanted him to do, but it didn’t seem to be working. Ashlyn didn’t know much about combat, though she could see Lucan’s stance was all wrong and it was throwing him off-balance. She wanted to call out to him, but thought better of it.

  Several of the mercenaries had gathered in the street behind their barracks to watch the man called Cromwell try and teach Lucan their violent craft. The veteran warriors of the company were not there to help. All they were doing was laughing and heckling the former stable boy without mercy. Ashlyn felt a pang of guilt about being angry with them for their taunts. If Lucan wasn’t her sweetheart, she would be laughing right along with them.

  He was almost comical in his attacks against the Toran. The sword he was using was far too heavy and every time he swung, the blade’s weight nearly spun him to the grou
nd, and the armor he wore was too large for his thin frame. His helmet was constantly falling down over his eyes, causing him to trip and stumble frequently. They should have at least tried to find something that fit him properly. He looked more like a child wearing his father's clothing than a mercenary warrior.

  Ashlyn thought she looked more like a warrior than her stable boy did. She had belted her weapons around a white shirt and brown leather vest, and tucked her pants down inside her boots. A black cape hung down her back and her hair was pulled back tight. She thought it would be a good idea to at least look the part of a fighter if she was going to be around them. She had told herself it would be just like acting, a career she had often thought about pursuing someday.

  Lost in thought, she hadn’t noticed the man slide up beside her. She jumped a little, startled by his unexpected appearance. The pretty mercenary had come up on her without a sound. She remembered him from the night Lucan had joined the band. Upton, she thought his name was.

  His hair had been tied back last time she had seen him. Now waves of fine brown hair hung down on his shoulders and he had an almost whimsical expression on his face. “I didn’t think we would see you again,” he said with a slight bow.

  “I plan to stay with Lucan till he leaves, however long that may be,” she said.

  The mercenary put his hand on her shoulder. He wasn’t much taller than she was, and he had a slight build and almost womanly hips. He struck a very unimposing figure, yet there was something about his touch that made goosebumps spring up on her skin.

  “Lucan has spoken very highly of you in the short time he has been here. Now I can see why. You are kind as well as beautiful.”

  Ashlyn felt her cheeks get warm. “Thank you…Upton, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, Upton Cryer. If you have need of anything or any of my brothers gives you difficulty, just let me know.”