The Eighth God

by Paul S. Lavender

  The fighting had stopped a good half hour ago, but no one had come to see him yet, in fact, he couldn’t hear anyone moving about at all. Struggling he raised himself up off the cot and slowly swung his legs over the side if the orcs had won he was sure he would be dead by now.

  He lurched for the open doorway and then took slow, hesitant steps towards the front of the Inn. He looked in every room as he passed. There wasn’t anyone in any of them, here and there sat little mounds of clay and stone.

  Odd, he thought, where is everyone.

  He drew his dagger as he moved onwards. He couldn’t wield a long sword now even if he still had them, but he should be able to get a few thrusts in with a dagger before he was taken.

  As he opened the door he was surprised to see that the sun was shining, he must have dropped off, he was sure only half an hour had passed.

  The village was deserted, not a single person to be seen, again here and there lay heaps of clay and stone. Then he spotted Tierra, she was kneeling on the ground and holding the hand of Goyler who lay in front of her.

  He moved towards the pair and as he did Tierra turned to look at him. She had been crying, but she smiled when she saw him. ‘Not so quiet with broken ribs, are you?’

  ‘Where is everyone? Did we lose or something?’

  ‘Yes and no, Saethryth. The orcs are dead except for the ones who ran, which wasn’t many. They only broke when Goyler here killed the leader, but he’s dying now, their leader stabbed him as he went down. I think there must have been poison on the blade because the cut wasn’t deep and Goyler’s been burning up and vomiting ever since.’

  Saethryth moved to the other side of Goyler and knelt, ‘You should have woken me?’

  ‘Why? What could you do, and besides you needed the rest. We managed, we survived.’

  Goyler’s eyelids fluttered open, and he gave the two Orcslayers a weak smile.

  ‘Water...Please?’ His voice was a weak croak.

  Saethryth leant in closer, and Tierra picked up a battered, pewter cup. Putting it to Goyler’s lips, she tipped the cup. Water dribbled down Goyler’s chest, but he managed to drink some. ‘Yer need ta know about the Orcslayers, lad.'

  ‘I do know, Goyler, I know all about The Seven and the gods and how the Orcslayers came to be.’

  ‘No... Not Seven...Eight.’

  ‘What? That’s not right, Goyler there are only seven elven gods. What you’re saying is against everything the elvish church would have us believe.’

  Tierra looked at Saethryth, ‘Well you have corroboration yourself. I must admit I didn’t give it much thought at the time, and you obviously haven’t either.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘At your ancestral home, there are niches for the Orcslayer arms and armour, right?’

  ‘Yesss. Where are you going with this, Tierra?’ Saethryth suddenly had the face of enlightenment, ‘Oh fuck, how did I not notice?’

  ‘Probably because when a person becomes an Orcslayer, it’s usually after a traumatic event. They are too preoccupied to wonder why there are eight niches, not seven. It’s been staring you in the face the whole time, hidden in plain sight.’

  Goyler coughed, twisting his head he spat out a lump of bloody phlegm, ‘I ain’t got much time. I was the eighth god’s avatar, and I made the golems that guard the passes, I made them for The Seven. The orcs came ‘ere for me. They figured that when I died the golems would too, but that ain’t so. Each of the Keeps has a priest and that priest passes the spell on.’

  Saethryth looked puzzled, ‘Golem?’

  ‘The statues...The people here I made them and they kept me sane, so I wasn’t alone, I gave them life, they gave me purpose.’

  Goyler coughed up more bloody phlegm.

  ‘I’m dying lad, but, same as you, my power will pass on, in fact, it has already begun. Someone out there is becoming the eighth god’s avatar. I only ‘ope they find out in time, otherwise...’

  Goyler died.

  Saethryth and Tierra took the time to give Goyler a decent burial, it was the least they could do. Most of the orcs were piled up around the palisade, the two of them threw the other corpses together, and Saethryth used Epiacum to burn them. He did the same with the two ogres.

  Tierra stood beside Saethryth as he burned the last of the ogres in her hand she held the scabbarded sword Concangis. As Saethryth turned to look at her, she handed the blade towards him.

  ‘Here, you had better have this back as it is by rights yours.’

  ‘Yes, I don’t know how he managed to gain control of the weapon in the first place and it’s not like I can ask him either.’

  ‘If Melress had been here, we might have been able too, but I guess we’ll never know.’

  ‘How? I thought he was a battle mage too?’

  ‘There were rumours, tales of when he was growing up both before the battle mages and during. Tales of him healing people.’

  ‘Like a priest?’

  ‘No, like a battle priest.’

  ‘Ha, there hasn’t been a battle priest for millennia!’

  ‘So my old Commander told me, but Melress is more than just a battle mage. He always has been and always will.’

  Then the two Orcslayers started to retrace the path of the war band, they walked together in companionable silence, keeping their eyes out for any signs of the orc survivors.

  45: Whole Again

  Kepler woke with a scream, my god his right arm ached, and light shone on him. A light that was so bright he didn't dare to open his eyes. Then he remembered he didn’t have a right arm anymore, it must be one of those phantom pain things he had heard of from his father. He couldn’t bring himself to look, didn’t want to see bloody bandages covering a stump, who would dance with a one-armed cripple, never mind go to bed with one. He assumed his force had won, he couldn’t see the orcs keeping him alive, gods he wished that he was dead.

  A voice penetrated his senses.

  ‘He’s awake captain.’

  Oh, holy fuck it was worse than he feared, not only was he without his sword arm, but he was in the other life with Quinn. What had he done to deserve such a fate, it wasn’t as if he could kill himself to get away from the cantankerous, miserable git?

  Another voice.

  ‘Thanks, Sergeant.’

  Oh, no. The battle mage had died too. Then they hadn’t won at all, they were all dead, and he would be stuck with the ghosts of his failure for the rest of his life, well death.

  ‘Captain Kepler, you can open your eyes.’

  ‘No, please leave me be a little longer, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry I got you all killed. Please.’

  ‘Kepler, you aren’t dead, you’re in a hospital tent. Now get your arse up, we need to move on towards Knight’s Perch, you’re the last of the wounded.’

  ‘I’m not dead, just crippled then. Don’t let me live anymore, give me a dagger, let me end it here, please.’

  ‘Stop whining’, a hand pinched his right arm

  He yelped, and his eyes opened. He looked at his right arm. It was there, had he dreamt losing it, but no there was the pain.

  ‘What, how?’

  ‘I healed you, as I healed all the wounded I could, but I couldn’t heal everyone I’m afraid.’

  Kepler looked at the battle mage, ‘Shit, you look terrible.’

  Melress smiled, ‘Thanks for that. Magic takes it out of a person, and I used a lot of magic last night. More than you know.’

  Kepler’s face paled as Quinn strode back into the room.

  ‘I saw you die!’ He stammered.

  Quinn looked at Melress, who spoke, ‘Sorry Captain, you must have been mistaken as you can see Sergeant Quinn is very alive. Perhaps you mistook him for one of the men in the confusion...’

  Kepler humphed, ‘Perhaps...yes that must have been it.’ He wasn’t convinced, he had seen what he had seen, something...weird had happened last night.

  ‘What’s the tally, Quinn?’

  ‘W
ell, Sir, thanks to the battle mage here we have eight men more than we did, plus yerself, of course, which makes twelve dead and none to wounded to fight. A couple of men, like yerself, just need a bit of time to let the pain pass.’

  ‘Should be pain-free in about an hour or so, Captain.’ Interjected Melress

  Kepler looked at Melress, ‘Simon...My names Simon.’

  A sudden commotion from outside heralded the return of some of the patrols Melress had sent out earlier that morning. A conversation took place outside the tent, then one of the flaps opened and a chosen, one of the men who had stepped up a rank, entered.

  ‘Sir,’ The man stared ahead at attention. Melress nodded at the man, ‘Carry on with your report Chosen... Humber, isn’t it?’

  ‘Sir. Yessir. The scouts are coming in sir, and they’re finding stuff, sir!’

  ‘Well, yes Chosen, that’s what scouts are supposed to do. Anything interesting though?’

  ‘Orcs, sir, dead orcs.’

  ‘Go on.'

  ‘Killed rather unpleasantly sir, throats torn out, eviscerated, their err...bit’s cut off and stuck into other...err bits. Sir.’

  ‘Hmm. Alright, Chosen, thank you and dismissed. Get some hot food inside your men.’

  The chosen saluted and smartly exited the tent. Melress give it a minute or two before he turned to Quinn and Kepler, ‘Any thoughts?’

  Kepler spoke first, ‘Lots of big cats in the borderlands, but nothing I know cuts things off and places them elsewhere.’

  Quinn spoke up, ‘Orcs must ‘ave pissed someone off when rampaging ‘cross the borders, just hope we ain't pissed them off too.’

  Melress looked at both men, ‘Right, Squad Sergeant, when we stop at night, I want two sentries at each position. Seems like someone doesn’t like orcs but it pays to be careful. We’ll start striking camp and press on towards Knight’s Perch as fast as we can.’

  Quinn saluted and went outside to start issuing orders.

  ‘I had hoped to let you res,t Captain, but I have a bad feeling that we need to get to Knight’s Perch as quickly as we can.’

  ‘That’s all right sir, at least I’m still alive eh?’

  Melress clapped him on the good shoulder, but it still made Kepler wince, ‘That’s the spirit, Simon!’

  Melress turned and left the tent as Kepler slowly started to get dressed.

  46: A New Day

  Lucy had spent an unsettled night with Ellowe and the others. She had found it hard to get to sleep, the events of the last forty-eight hours had affected her more than she thought, and when she finally did get to sleep, she had had nightmares.

  A procession of dead faces swirling around and around and then they stopped and from the middle stepped forth a young man. The man flung hands out and shot bolts of white light at the dead who were obliterated as the light hit them. Their shrieks and screams tore through her mind as keen as any blade.

  Then the man looked directly at her.

  ‘Mother.'

  She woke up in a tangle of blanket, with sweat covering her body. Ellowe stood over her a look of concern on his face. She grimaced, ‘Nightmare.’

  ‘Understandable Lucy, after all, you have been through, but I’m here now, I’ll look after you.’

  Lucy couldn’t help herself. She knew the answer before she even asked the question, ‘Why?’

  Ellowe sighed, ‘I always believed that love, at first sight, was just for the old romances, for the sagas you know? But since I first saw you I knew that I wanted to be with you forever.'

  ‘I’m pregnant.’

  ‘Doesn’t matter to me. We can be together, and I will raise him or her as my own. I love you, Lucy.’

  Lucy gazed into Ellowe’s eyes and saw the love there shining like a lantern. Could she love him back? He was handsome enough, but she didn’t know. What she did know was that she needed someone to protect her and to keep her child safe, ‘I love you too.'

  He smiled at her a little sadly, she thought.

  ‘Try to get some more sleep. There are a few hours yet until we need to move on.’

  Lucy lay back down as Ellowe moved off, it didn’t take long for her to fall asleep again, but it seemed like no time at all when his voice came through to her, telling her to wake up. Then a little shake, she groaned and woke one sleepy eye.

  ‘Morning Lucy, here drink this, it’ll help wake you.’ He thrust a steaming tin cup of coffee at her.

  Lucy groaned and took the cup from him. He handed her a few hard trail biscuits. ‘Eat these, you need to keep your strength up, better yet dunk them in your coffee they're almost edible then.’

  She thanked him and started to munch a biscuit, ‘What now Ellowe?’

  ‘Call me Ell, Lucy, well we’ll go to Ashen Falls and report to Commander Arande, and then I resign from the Battle Mages, and we go into hiding.’

  ‘Where will we go? Who are we hiding from?’

  ‘My family live in Alliende, we can go there, they’ll love you as much as I do, as for who we are hiding from I don’t honestly know, but Melress said you needed protection, so protection is what you’re getting!’

  ‘I’ve never been to Alliende, never been to Ashen Falls either for that matter. Gods, I’ve never left the farmstead before now. Ellowe I’m scared.’

  Ellowe sat beside her and hugged her, ‘You’ll be alright, we’ll be alright,’

  He stroked her hair as he spoke. ‘We’ll raise a family together. Now, drink up, we have to get to Ashen Falls before dark.’

  47: The Loving Dead

  Allen Royce sat chewing on a finger, he didn’t know which orc the finger belonged to, but it sure was tasty. Across from him, his wife crouched over another orc.

  Throwing the finger over his shoulder, he stood up and moved closer to Jillian. As he approached his wife turned to look at him. Blood ran down her mouth, and as he neared, she spat out a piece of gristle.

  ‘What’re you doing?’ He asked

  ‘Eating this fuckers cock. I remember this bastard, he must have been number six or so, wanted to stick it in my mouth. Well, he did then, and he has now. Not so big this time tho’. Bastard!’

  ‘You know since you died your language has gotten most filthy.’

  ‘Yes, well, I’m dead now aren’t I so I’m not going to worry about it. Any other criticisms?’

  ‘No dear, just sayin’ that’s all. Anyways it’s not a criticism more an observation.’

  ‘Well, I have observed a small group of orcs in yonder copse of trees, shall we go and acquaint them with their god.’

  Allen took hold of his wife’s hand, and she led them towards a small group of trees.

  ‘You always did know how to treat a fella dear.’

  Five minutes later the screaming began.

  48: Meeting the Commander

  Ellowe edged his horse slowly through the crowds of shoppers as he made his way through the High Street towards the Keep. Behind him, he could hear Lucy gasp at all the sights and sounds of the busy city. It didn’t help that they had arrived on market day, and traders were pitched in any space they could find.

  Little by little they edged up the road until the relative peace and quiet of the causeway leading to the keep. To each side of the massive portcullis stood a pair of sentries and as the horse approached one of the guards ran into the gatehouse. The other three, Ellowe noted, had begun to spread out.

  He stopped the horse and helped Lucy down before getting down himself. Lucy looked at him with a worried expression on her face. He smiled back reassuringly and started to reach for the letter Melress had given him.

  ‘Move another inch deserter, and you’re a dead man.’

  A Sergeant had come out of the gatehouse with the fourth guard, and held a repeating crossbow at Ellowe’s head.

  ‘Bu...’

  ‘Ah, ah no talking either. Don’t want to be turned into a frog. Now lie down hands in front of ya. You too miss.’

  Lucy lay down flat as Ellowe scowled at the
Sergeant. Letting out a deep breath Ellowe started to lie prone.

  ‘Alright you lazy buggers, tie ‘em and gag ‘em, then take ‘em to the dungeon. I’ll let the Commander know they’re here.’

  They were picked up and bundled down the steps of the Keep proper and into the dungeon below. One of the guards took a key from a peg beside the door and opened the thick oaken door. The other guards carried the prisoners inside and placed them gently down on the slabbed floor, and then the four men backed out and locked the door behind them.

  Lucy looked at Ellowe, she was scared, she hadn’t expected this reception. Hadn’t she been through enough?

  Ellowe stared at his bonds, and slowly the rope around his wrists began to untie itself, Lucy stared transfixed as they moved with serpentine grace, and then Ellowe’s hands were free. What it must be like to have so much power in your hands, to be able to fly or make flowers grow. It was incredible.

  Ellowe removed the gag from his mouth.

  ‘Good thing were short of battle mages, or they would have kept a watch on us.’ He said, as he removed Lucy’s gag and started work on her bonds.

  ‘Aren’t they battle mages then?’

  ‘No, just soldiers, but they should have known that a mage doesn’t need to wave his arms about or speak.’

  ‘You don’t?’

  ‘No, but if you can, great, as they can help focus the spell or give it more power.’

  ‘Then couldn’t you have made them let us go?’

  Lucy rubbed at her wrists as she spoke, for all that she hadn’t had her hand tied for long they had been tied tightly, and she found she needed to get the blood flowing again.

  ‘Again, no. mages cannot directly affect people, we can produce flame and lightning that would indirectly hurt someone. We can make the air denser, so people become unconscious, but we cannot change a person’s will.’

  ‘So you can’t heal people, or cure sickness?’

  ‘Ha. That is the domain of priests, they can heal and cure, and I’m pretty sure they can change people’s perceptions, to bend their will if you prefer.’