The Silas Kane Scrolls (Authors and Dragons Origins Book 2)

by Rick Gualtieri

  “So be it! You think I’m a devil? Then perhaps it’s time for you to feel my wrath, unholy or not.” He stepped back and motioned to his guards. “Kill them all.”

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  Rhex and his entourage were led from the temple of the Dueling Gods as his guards pushed forward, weapons drawn. Across the way, a much less disciplined group of slaves likewise drew their weapons and prepared to defend themselves against the far better equipped forces rapidly advancing upon them.

  A mix of emotions ranging from panic to determination sat on their faces but, of them all, only Silas seemed to be smiling. “See?” he said, shooting an arrow into the neck of one of Rhex’s guards. “I told you he was evil.”

  “You’re the one who shot first!” Gideon screamed.

  “True, but he threatened us with his unholy wrath.”

  “After you shot him.”

  “I fail to see your point.”

  By then, several of the guards on their side had stepped into the fray, shouting somewhat less than enthusiastic cheers to Twareg as they engaged their foes.

  A few encircled their leadership and began to steer Silas, Slug, and Gideon toward the exit.

  “Go and tell the others there will be no peace,” Slug told one of their guards. “Only victory or death.”

  “Yes!” Silas cried. “Twareg smiles upon us this day!”

  “Are you crazy?” Gideon replied. “Do you know how many men Rhex has stationed right outside the gates? Gates which, even now, are probably being opened? The only reason we’ve lasted as long as we have is because they’ve been reluctant to unleash their full fury onto the city. But then you had to go and try to kill the high lord. Do you understand what this means? They’re going to kill us all.”

  Silas nodded, though the smile never left his face. “Then Twareg smiles upon us even more than I had hoped.”

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  The forces within the temple of the Dueling Gods were but a small fuse leading to a much bigger bomb, and the arrow Silas shot served as the fire that lit it. Within minutes, a battle cry rose up among the slaves, urging them to fight for freedom and for Twareg. They were quicker to strike following the failed peace initiative, and the area around the temple was soon overrun, giving the slaves a false sense of impending victory.

  It didn’t last.

  Before long, the bulk of Rhex’s forces, bolstered by reinforcements from the Kingdom and mercenaries brought by Thuron, had mobilized and begun to push back against the ragtag slave rebellion.

  Neither mercy nor quarter was given on either side as the fighting grew in intensity. Where before there was some reluctance from the city’s defenders, now there was none. The warriors on the side of the rebellion quickly realized this and were forced to adjust their tactics on the fly.

  Over the next several hours, some of the inhabitants of the war-stricken zones managed to flee the city, but many more were caught in the middle as the two sides clashed – first in the streets, and then eventually from house to house.

  Using guerilla tactics, the former slaves were able to negate the size advantage the city’s defenders enjoyed, the narrow streets and alleyways serving as chokepoints in the struggle.

  For a time, it appeared as if a stalemate was likely. But then, near the end of the day, just as it seemed that the forces on both sides were deadlocked, Rhex unleashed his secret weapons. From the east, catapults rained stones on the territories held by the rebels while from the west the staff and students of the city’s mage academy were conscripted into the city’s forces. Fire and lightning soon joined the barrage against the insurrection.

  For a man who had claimed to love his city, Rhex Teleghar seemed intent on destroying it rather than seeing it fall into the hands of usurpers. Or perhaps he was simply that incensed at the single shot fired at him just when it seemed peace was at hand.

  There was no telling for, as the battle progressed and the rebels were forced ever back, there came no word from the high lord’s manor. No offers were made, either to reopen talks or allow the former slaves the opportunity to surrender.

  It wasn’t long before the air was filled with the screams of the dying as the city was blown to rubble around them.

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  Silas held the dying man’s hand, his body rapidly being consumed by the acid bolt which had struck him. “Come on, my friend. You can do it.”

  “T-thank ... you...”

  “Yes?”

  “T-twareg!” Grub Shit let out one final wheeze and then he was gone, dissolving into a viscous puddle of goo reminiscent of his name.

  If his death bothered the paladin, he didn’t show it. “Yes!” Silas shouted gleefully. “All glory to Twareg!”

  “I don’t see what there is to be thankful for,” Slug said, pushing his way past a mound of rubble. “We’re being torn to pieces out here.”

  “I know. It’s glorious.”

  “Are you a fucking...”

  Silas held up a hand as a whistling sound came from overhead. They looked up to see a massive fireball falling from the sky, headed toward a group of rebel warriors who’d been taking shelter in the doorway of a partially destroyed manor.

  One of the fighters glanced skyward and saw it coming. He quickly cried out, “Thank you, Twareg!”

  The others followed suit a moment later, just before they were blown into charred chunks.

  “Praise Twareg!” Silas shouted with a raised fist, before turning back toward Slug. “You were saying?”

  “Have you gone fucking insane? Those men are dead, and for what?”

  “They died for Twareg. What other purpose is there?”

  “Those people believed in you. I believed in you.”

  Silas stopped and looked genuinely perplexed by this. “Why would anyone believe in me?”

  “I begin to ask myself the same question,” Slug replied. “Look at where you’ve led us.”

  “Isn’t this what you wanted?”

  “I wanted us to live, not be utterly destroyed.”

  “But, during the meeting, you kept calling for war.”

  “That was just posturing. Gideon and I discussed it ahead of time. We didn’t want Rhex to think we were too desperate to compromise.”

  “Ah, I see. Personally, I was never desperate, for my faith lies with Twareg.”

  “That’s why we didn’t tell you.”

  Silas looked around as more and more spells fell in the area, blasting former stately homes to piles of crushed stone. “Where is Gideon anyway?”

  Slug shook his head. “I don’t know. He might be dead already.”

  “I hope he had the good graces to thank Twareg before he died.”

  “That’s what you care about?!”

  “I can think of nothing else. Twareg’s will be done.”

  Slug balled his fists. “So back there, in the meeting with Rhex when you said none of us mattered, that you just cared about your stupid god, that was true?”

  “Of course.” Silas turned away, a smile on his face as more screams thanking Twareg rose up in the night before being silenced forever. “We are but pathetic sacks of flesh sent here to do little more than rot our lives away. But Twareg is eternal. To him we should give all the glory so that when we die we might be shit back out upon this world to fail him again and ag...”

  Slug tackled Silas from behind and shoved him to the ground. “Enough!”

  “Thank you, Twar...”

  A kick to the mouth interrupted the paladin. “I said shut up! All of this is your fault. You started it. We thought you wanted freedom, but all you wanted was to drag people down to whatever hell your maniac god inhabits.” He grabbed hold of Silas, dragged him to his feet, then threw him into the side of a crumbling wall. “I’m going to do what I should have done when you first stepped foot into my damned mine.”

  Slug stepped in and planted a fist to the side of Silas’s head, dropping the paladin to his knees. Silas tried to get up, but Slug grabbed a hunk of ru
bble and slammed it into his back, driving him down to the ground.

  “Thank...”

  “No more!” He kicked Silas, then did it again – continuing to pummel the other man, not letting up for a second.

  However, the more he attacked Silas, the broader the paladin’s grin became.

  “You think this is a joke?” Slug drew his sword, but before he could bring it down across Silas’s neck, the paladin rolled, taking him out at the knees.

  “Everything is a joke to Twar...”

  A nearby explosion shook the ground, the roar of sound cutting off whatever Silas had to say. Before he could start in again, one of Slug’s boots filled his mouth, sending teeth flying and knocking him onto his back.

  Slug scrambled atop Silas before he could get up and wrapped his hands around his former commander’s throat. He increased the pressure, squeezing until he cut off the paladin’s air. “No more Twareg!” he screamed. “Do you hear me? No more! Not now! Not ever again! Your god is dead! And so are you. Fuck you and fuck Twar ... ARGH!”

  A bolt of lightning slammed into the building next to where the two men struggled, exploding it with eldritch energy and sending tons of debris flying everywhere.

  A wave of dust and smoke washed over the area, obscuring it and everyone inside.

  When at last it cleared, Silas sat up, coughed, and then looked around to find himself alone. After a few minutes, his eyes came to rest upon a pile of rubble that appeared to be stained red with blood.

  Silas pulled himself to his feet and stumbled over as yet more dying cries thanking Twareg rent the air around him – albeit they were becoming fewer and farther between. He bent down to examine the debris and saw one of Slug’s tattooed hands protruding from beneath the pile, unmoving save for the occasional twitch.

  There came another whistle from overhead, followed by an explosion close by. Rhex’s forces appeared to be increasing their assault.

  Silas ignored it all, kneeling and placing one of his hands upon Slug’s. “Despite your anger, in the end Twareg’s name was the last thing to leave your lips. Well done, my friend. May your suffering at his hands be eternal.”

  Smiling, he rose back to his feet and began making his way through the burning street, cheering as ever more men were cut down while screaming Twareg’s name.

  Finally, the marching of boots caught his ear, and he turned and saw – through the dust and smoke – a large contingent of soldiers heading his way.

  “Their defenses are broken!” one of them shouted. “Take no prisoners!”

  Silas laughed and raised his hands to the sky. “And now comes my turn. Thank you, mighty Twa...”

  A fireball exploded almost directly in front of where he stood, cutting him off and sending him flying through the air. The smile never leaving his lips, Silas’s body smashed through the doorway of a nearby home. The shockwave from the blast hit the structure a moment later, collapsing it atop his battered form and burying him in darkness.

  FRACTURED DIVINITY

  I watched the so-called paladin begin to stir, wondering if I’d been a fool to save him.

  But I couldn’t help it. I had to know why he’d done what he had, even if I already knew that I was lost for the part I played in all of this.

  So much death and destruction in such a short time. But even with all of that, there was still a chance. If the boy had learned anything from the horrors he’d played a part in unleashing, then perhaps he wasn’t beyond redemption – which meant that maybe I wasn’t either.

  It was all I had left.

  Silas’s eyes opened. He blinked several times and then coughed, the smoke still thick in the air despite the distance we’d traveled. Finally, he sat up. “G-Gideon?”

  “I’m here.”

  “What happened?”

  “What happened?! Look!” I pointed toward the city from our place on the hilltop where I’d brought him. Though Kel was almost a mile distant, it was easily seen from the fires that continued to burn throughout. “This ... this is all your doing.”

  Silas coughed again, then pulled himself to his feet and stared at the dying city with me. “I meant, I wanted to know how pathetically I died and whether or not Twareg enjoyed watching me suffer.”

  “What?! You’re not dead, you blithering fool.”

  “No?” He sounded almost disappointed. “Ah, I see. You’re a ghost sent by Twareg to haunt me for my...”

  “I’m not dead either! I pulled you out of that hell so you could see what you’d done.”

  He appeared to mull this over. “In that case, I thank you. It would appear I’ve done Kel a great service. Good riddance, for it was a blight upon Twareg’s name.”

  “Are you kidding me? Do you know how many people died because of you? Rhex ordered the entire slave population purged, down to the last man.”

  Silas nodded, making me hope that perhaps he had finally begun to understand the error of his ways, but then he said, “See? I told you he was a demon.”

  “Him? He only did this because you shot him while he was offering peace.”

  “Maybe, but if he had been truly penitent before the eyes of Twareg, he would have let me kill him and end his demonic existence.”

  “That makes no fucking sense!”

  “Not to you. Not to me either. But to Twareg, it’s all crystal clear. That’s what matters.”

  “I don’t know if you understand this or not, probably not since your head seems to be filled with dried horseshit, but your beliefs got hundreds, maybe thousands, of people killed.”

  Silas clapped me on the back and smiled. “I know.”

  It was all I could do to not wrap my hands around his idiot neck and strangle him right there. “If you know, then why do you look so happy?”

  “Because I accomplished my task.” He turned to me and pointed at the scorched hammer carved into his armor. “You see, I was sent to Kel by a servant of Twareg himself. He told me to do what I could to end the suffering of the slaves there.”

  “Yeah, but they...”

  “Are no longer suffering. They’re all free! Best yet, they died screaming Twareg’s name. A more glorious end one could not hope for.”

  Silas turned away from the horrific sight of Kel, grabbed his bow and quiver from where I’d left it on the ground, and started to walk away.

  “Where are you going?”

  “My work here is done ... for now, anyway,” he called back to me. “But Twareg never rests, which means I can’t either. I see now what my true life’s quest is – to continue what I started here. I shall not rest until all are freed, just as the people of Kel were.”

  I involuntarily shuddered as I considered what that meant. “Do you truly think they’ll remember you as a hero there?” I shouted after him. “That they won’t hang you the second you show your face again?”

  He stopped and turned back. “I’m no hero. Merely a wretched servant of my god. As for my face, I seek no credit for the service I do.” He inclined his head as if considering this. “If need be, I can always serve Twareg just as well from behind a mask. In fact, maybe better, because then he wouldn’t need to look down and see my disappointing visage. ’Tis a fine idea. I thank you, Gideon. May Twareg continue to despise you as he does me.”

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  As Silas disappeared from my view, I dropped the glamour I’d adopted in Kel – changing from the slave known as Gideon back to Theoden Grimstrike. But adopting the visage of my true self didn’t lift my heart. Even if Silas wasn’t smart enough to know what he’d done, I was.

  My failure was legion. In seeking to do good, to spare one boy who I thought might be worthy of redemption, I had paved the way for atrocities which I could never make amends for. I had unleashed upon this world a monster in the guise of a servant to the god I’d sworn to never bring shame to. Perhaps worst of all, his claim to being a paladin in Twareg’s name was my fault, for I’d opened up the pathway to my lord’s divine power, allowing Silas to draw upon that godly
energy despite his unworthiness.

  In seeking to serve my lord, I had somehow created the very worst of devils instead.

  I could have followed him and struck him down – like some avenging arrow of the gods – but the damage he’d caused wouldn’t be undone. And killing him now wouldn’t erase the part I had played in it ... all because I had defied my lord’s decree and involved myself in the affairs of mortals, arrogantly presuming I could make things better.

  In that moment, the constant thunder that I heard from the mountain of Stormstrike fell silent and I realized what I had to do. Twareg was turning his back on me, as he rightfully should have, but the rest fell upon my lap.

  There and then I renounced my divinity, purging myself of the divine essence that flowed through my veins and becoming fully mortal once more.

  I was no longer worthy to call myself a god.

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  All of this, I write to you now as a simple friar, living alone and awaiting my death as the years catch up to me. Every day I pray for forgiveness, and every night I drink myself into a stupor knowing it will never come because I cannot forgive myself.

  Still, I have some small hope that my humble life of penance has helped balance the scales of the heavens, perhaps enough for the gods to have found a way to contain the scourge of Silas Kane, assuming the imbecile is still out there and hasn’t succumbed to a well-deserved death.

  But that is not for me to decide.

  For now, all I can do is conclude my tale and hope it serves as a warning to others after my passing.

  This world is a marvelous place, full of mysteries and adventure. Keep your mind open to the possibilities of the wonder around you and try to live your life the best you can. That is the true path to salvation.

  But, above all else, should you ever meet a stranger on the road calling himself Silas Kane, run the fuck away as fast as your legs will carry you before he can even open his mouth and utter the word Twareg.