The Last Pantheon: of hammers and storms

by Jason Jones

  “Ahh, but you see, it is. I owe this woman, from back in Harlaheim. So, my previous debt will take place over your current desires, I insist.”

  “Girl does get around then, she will likely be excellent in our tents. You, my strange marked man with a deer, may have her after we are through.”

  “A trade then. This deer for the whore.” Kendari smiled, hearing the growl from behind him.

  “I am not a whore!” Angeline of Charity pulled her focus from the cursed elf that was obviously still hunting her, ignoring his wink, and raised her voice over the conversation.

  “Every woman has it in her though, we will be happy to show you how. Merchant road is long indeed, and we are heading east. We can drop you back in Harlaheim after a few weeks of fun, lass.”

  “I am sure she would enjoy it, no doubt. But, she will be coming with me. Now, stand aside.” Kendari slid Shiver and his other longblade out, slowly, as his smile went serious. His cloak fell back, his eyes beamed a fearless stare, and his fingers gripped his steel.

  “If you think that a little painted elf and his little deer frighten twenty one Shanadorians, think again. You should be a bit wiser and---“

  Clang, slice, thud

  The men blinked. Just as the man was stating their argument a moment earlier, he was now disarmed and decapitated by the black clad elf. Before they could react, the woman disarmed the blade from another and the deer slammed into a third merchant and knocked him to the ground.

  “By the bloody wings of Alden! Horthim, he killed Horthim!” Another yelled, the merchant men turned and drew their blades toward the elf and the woman, many on a full angry run at them in the night.

  Kendari took his low stance, looked down at the severed head and smiled. “Watch and learn Horthim, well met, by the way.”

  A wave of ten large blond men rushed Kendari, then two hit the earth as their legs lost appendage below the knees from the rolling elf and his blades. Two more dropped in painful screams as a hot longsword slashed them across their backs, then another fell as the tip of the off hand blade plunged through his chest from the side. As they turned around searching for the dark swordsman yet two more men met the ground and death as Kendari leapt off of a kneeling body and slashed Shiver though their necks in midair. Three men turned again as the cursed elf landed before them, the only three out of ten that could stand, and they stared as he twirled his blades and smiled.

  Nine men swarmed Angeline, the tenth went tumbling from the impact of the young charging deer she had sensed and sent to get help. Charity spun in wide arcs, chopping the tips of blades off as she struck. Just as they lunged for her en masse, she asked the air to help and she dove upward into the sky nearly ten feet. Most of the men crashed into one another, some fell into the chipped blades of those opposite them, and some still watched as the woman they had harassed landed softly behind them as if the very air was beneath her feet and at her command for but a few moments.

  Four men charged her, then three as the deer took out the legs of one in passing. Charity swung low, deflecting a strike in the night from a greatsword, then Angeline cut across the mans chest. Another parry from Charity, and two more, as the men pressed her with strong cuts full of anger. Her sacred blade disarmed one as she cut out with a fast slash. Her sweeping follow-through sliced both thighs of the other man, who fell in screams to the ground.

  Still backing up, Angeline saw the cursed elf walking toward her as he pulled one of his blades from another merchant who fell dead behind him. The deer looked around, watching the seven injured men run off down the roadway into the night. The other fourteen were not moving and would not be anytime soon.

  “You?!” Angeline of Charity kept her guard up since the approaching wicked elf still had his bloody blades in his grip.

  “We have unfinished business, remember? You tracked me to here, bravo. Now, my flying woman, it is time to end it.”

  “I do not fly. If I did, I would not have run in to them, would I?” Angeline backed up, Charity lowered to the side, but still ready.

  “Leaping, flying, call it what you will. It is not normal.” Kendari quickened his pace to close the gap, blades twirling in anticipation.

  “This coming from you?” Angeline gazed at his swirls and marks of a curse, then raised her edge at the last moment.

  “Excellent point.”

  Kendari lunged with Shiver, deflected by her feathered hand and a half blade. He crosscut with Cristoff’s blade that he held reverse, parried again. He started his circling, his cuts getting faster, pushing her back toward the road, his two blades barely being met with her steel.

  “You tracked me, cursed one. I seek the west, not the likes of you.” Angeline countered every attack, barely sensing with his short cuts and elven speed where he would strike or feint next. Charity throbbed in her hands that she was concerned for her wielders safety.

  “Lies. Too coincidental.” Kendari pushed faster, sparks flitting off of their steel blades as he wove his attacks closer to the woman.

  “I do not lie.” Angeline summoned the winds at her feet, yet softened the dry earth below her through Charity. This swordsmans blades were inches from her now, getting closer with every parry she tried to match.

  “Then I will err on the side of caution.” Kendari saw the dust swirling, let his blades and cuts go long, and waited until she tried to fly again. She did, he saw her legs tense, and he leapt up with both blades slashing in a whirl of enchanted steel that would have cut through any defense. Yet, there was no one there. Kendari’s blades caught but air, and he landed and looked.

  Angeline, smiling and en guard, rose through the earth, ten feet behind the deer. She shook the dry dusty dirt from her hair and stared her soft green eyes into this elf’s emerald wicked ones.

  “Over here.”

  “Damn it. You fly and travel through the ground? Any other tricks?” Kendari strode toward Angeline, twirling both blades in his hands. He stepped over the dead and dying as if they did not exist. The deer, however, did not move. It growled as he approached it, and lowered its head.

  “Plenty. I sent for help through the deer. Why it brought you I have not the answer for.” Angeline sidestepped, keeping her distance.

  Kendari stopped. “You can communicate with this stupid thing?”

  “Of course.”

  “Then tell me what its name is.”

  Angeline whispered to the deer as it approached her. She knelt down, it seemed to whisper back into her ear, yet no one besides the two of them would understand what was being said in such a manner. She looked to Kendari as if she were angry for a moment. The conversation continued, and then Angeline looked sad and petted the deer. After a few minutes of nodding and whispers between spirits, she stood and looked to the cursed elf.

  “You are wicked indeed.”

  “I already know I killed it, previously, if that is what you are getting at.”

  “There is more, he has told me.”

  “You won’t strike a moral chord here, Angeline, so save me the drivel and tell me the name.”

  “No.” She sheathed her sacred blade.

  “No you will not tell me, or no you did not get the name?” Kendari thought of stepping up to kill her now, frustrated and tired as he was.

  “I know his name. But I will not tell you, not until you complete what Seirena has offered, marked one.” Angeline had heard how this one died, and trusted this elf even less now knowing what he was and why from the deer.

  “My name is not marked one, it is Ken---“

  “Kendari, Kendari of Stillwood, I know. The deer told me.”

  “Then quit calling me cursed one, or marked one, or wicked painted elf. I know what I look like, idiot. I also know I am cursed, hence the moronic animal that you are talking to. It is annoying, and when I get annoyed, heads roll onto the earth. Now, tell me its name.”

  “No, you will know when you are to know, but not now. I know his mistress, and she would be most unhappy should I tel
l you.” Angeline smiled to the deer and knelt next to him again.

  “Seirena? You know the wretched goddess?”

  “I do. She gave me Charity here, my sacred blade.” Angeline lowered her posture, letting the deer lick the pommel.

  “Oh by the hells. So I have a reincarnated deer with a horrid personality, a flying whore that coincedintally has a blade named chastity from the goddess she knows, and a stolen horse that is likely more intelligent than you both. I think it is time for me to wake up. This dream is getting worse every hour.” Kendari walked back down the hill, wiping his blades off on his cloak.

  “My blade is named Charity, and I am no whore, Kendari. Why are you heading west, anyway?” Angeline and the deer followed, at a distance.

  “Personal matters, your goddess likely wants to see me dead somewhere. I go merely to spoil her plans and spread some blood. I have met her, unlike you.” Kendari listened for any followers, hers or the merchants. There was none.

  “Seirena does not kill, she is the Goddess of life and the earth and if she sent you---“

  “I owed you one, for saving me in Harlaheim. I saved you from rape here this night. We are more than even, if I let you live. Now take the deer, shut your mouth, and leave my eyes. My business in the west is my own.” He sensed this woman wanted to converse, to travel with him, at least for awhile. His nerves crawled, his stomach churned, he could feel her sword even fifty feet away now. It made him sick.

  “I will ask the deer, he will tell me anyway. I told you next time we met, it may well be different than you expected. I am heading west also, sent by the Goddess.” Angeline sheathed her blade, followed slowly, asking the animal that was sent to watch Kendari many a question in the night in a secret tongue through the wind.

  “Good. I hope you two have many conversations together, far away from me. And it is not over yet, Angeline. If you do not tell me that name tomorrow, I will kill you.”

  Kendari knew he should kill her, but could not understand why he did not want to. His mind tried to rationalize why he was walking away with his swords sheathed from a woman he had fought three times and had yet to kill. He looked at the horse, pulled his blankets from behind the saddle, and laid down to sleep near the river.

  Sometime later, he heard the sounds of the merchants that still lived, returning over the hill to fetch their tents and wagons. His ears heard the moans of those still struggling to survive their injuries. He could tell they were packing up and heading off in fear. Kendari smiled as his eyes closed.

  “We will not be far, Kendari of Stillwood. I will see you in the morning then.”

  “Sleep light, Angeline and deer with no name, I will dream of killing you both.” Kendari was exhausted, the Shanadorian heat in harvest had stolen his vigor. Yet, it stirred, the bit of killing had awoken him, just a bit.

  Angeline heard from the deer that Seirena had offered a form of redemption, a task he would never complete, the salvation of hundreds of thousands of lives for the ones he had destroyed. Still, he headed west to begin, more out of defiance to the Goddess than any real intent on achievement. Despite what he was, Angeline of Charity did not feel the need or urge to kill the cursed elf, unlike the last few times they had met. She sat with the deer, hearing more of his story, long into the warm harvest night.

  Exodus IV:I

  Road to Freemoore

  Western Shanador

  Saberrak stood at the curve in the worn dry road. He looked west, nonchalant as he could, while Sir Jardayne, Sir Codaius, their fifty cavalry, and the purple and green painted wagon filled with little folk all passed by. He waited for Shinayne and the others, drinking from his waterskin on a knee now, nodding to those that continued on the road that they were about to leave. He looked to the sun, clouded over thankfully in the merciless heat, then glanced west as his companions approached. No road, dark clouds that were still, and far off hills on a horizon that seemed to warn with a hard look.

  “What is it horned one?” Shinayne waved to the caravan ahead, they had stopped now and were looking back.

  “See that dark storm there, beyond those three hills and that crag?” Saberrak nodded with his horns, not wanting to point or draw curiosity.

  “Yes. Dark storm, moving slow, if at all. And I see some sand colored rock from the foothills below the storm. This is it then, those are the foothills of the Kaki Mountains out there.” Shinayne took a deep breath.

  “Could be.” Saberrak talked low.

  “What is it then? Ye all cannot be as tired as me, ye’ got longer legs and less armor. Come on then, pick up the pace.” Azenairk walked next to James, Gwenneth floating behind, as he wiped the sweat from his face with a cloth.

  “Zen, look west.” Shinayne whispered.

  He strained his eyes, his friends all around him. He saw a rolling black thundercloud far in the distance, many miles of hills and crags, no roads anywhere. Zen shook his head.

  “Nothin’ there. Keep movin’.”

  Saberrak’s hand set on his shoulder, strong, and stopped him in place.

  “Look low, should not be hard for you, dwarf. Below those dark clouds that do not seem to move like the rest, between the hills. See it?” The gray gladiator kept still, sensing some of the caravan heading back this way now.

  Zen looked again, squinting his eyes, then they went wide. He saw sandstone, bits of golden yellow rock here and there, signs of the fabled Kaki Mountain range. The storm seemed to try and hide it, the lightning in the distance flashed to disguise it and distract, yet he knew, they all did. It had been nearly four days, as the old books had written of.

  “Aye. Yer right, there it is.” Azenairk breathed out long and heavy, releasing his tension in as much as bolstering himself for the journey that looked less than hospitable.

  “Shall we set camp my brave friends? Four days of travel, and you five insisting to go afoot, I can see why you would be in need of rest.” Sir Jardayne of Highmont steadied his horse, then dismounted.

  Sir Codaius of Norninne, the Bear of Evermont, rode up next to them, his massive horse made Saberrak look small. Braids of blonde mane and tail swished and armor clanked as he stepped down and patted his decorated steed on the nose. He planted the Shanador standard into the dry road with force, the stallion head emblem over a silver shield in green and gold cloth fluttered in the breeze.

  “You know we could have picked a spot with some shade, should the sun appear. Not that I was aware of our halt, but nonetheless, there are trees ahead about two miles, Knight General.” Codaius smacked Jardayne’s back plate with some force, startling both steed and rider.

  “Zen, it is time.” James nudged his dwarven companion.

  “Last meal first then?” Zen tried to procrastinate.

  “We just ate, Zen.” Shinayne replied with a smile as the Shans o’ Little Door began wobbling and skipping closer, a few at a time, Tubrey in the lead, as per usual.

  “Right, forgot.” Azenairk took off his shining steel helmet from the dragon Ansharr, then he took a knee and looked west again.

  “Ha, nothing there to draw the curious, my brave dwarf. The curselands are imposing to see though, even from this safe distance.” Sir Jardayne followed the eyes of Azenairk, sensing something was uneasy with the five companions that had been with him for the last five or more weeks.

  “There are a lot of graves there, if anyone has been burying the last thousand years that is.” Codaius spoke up, trying to gauge why everyone was so quiet, even the little shans were silent at the moment, and they had hardly stopped singing the last four days and nights on the road.

  “Two thousand years.” Zen replied, instinctual rather than intentional.

  “Very well, you may be correct there, mountain priest. However, you should be wary of the stormlands, for no one ever returns---“

  “Our road is north, and no offense to anyone here, but staring off into the lands lost to time and decay does not rest my spirits for the next two days of travel. Shall we?” Tubrey sang
it as much as spoke it, his smile ever present regardless.

  “Agreed.” Jardayne looked to the copse of trees a few miles ahead, thinking to make a camp there.

  “Although, I may have to compose a scary ballad for that place. The realm of n’er light, or deaths without end, something to that nature anyway. From what I have heard, that place has more dead men than all of Evermont.” Tubrey grinned.

  “Yer not helpin much there, lil’ shan, save the ballad for another time then.” Zen had not let his eyes leave the distant foothills under the storm.

  “Not to worry Zen Thalanaxe, our road is north, this way, to Freemoore. We are safe from anything that those---“

  “Aye, yer road is north, Tubrey o’ Tarnobb, it is. But our road, me friends and I, it is to the west. Right to where ye is talkin’ about.” Zen hung his head.

  Sir Jardayne and Sir Codaius laughed, followed soon by the Shans o’ Little Door, all assuming it was a jest. The five companions however, did not laugh. They were well seasoned to the disbelief of their quest by others.

  “I am afraid we have a bit of a misunderstanding here, my brave friends. Freemoore and your dwarven cousins are to the north, this way now, daylight is wasting.” Sir Jardayne pointed north as the laughter died down.

  “I know it, but I have no cousins in Freemoore. And I s’pose some apologies are in order then, as ye have been so very gracious to us and all.” Zen stood up, and looked down at Tubrey, up to Jardayne and Codaius, then to his friends right behind him.

  “I do not follow. Sir Jardayne, what is this all about then?” The Bear of Evermont furrowed his brow in confusion.

  “Seems our brave heroes have an alternate path, lest this joke is a bit longer than I would hope.” Jardayne looked at the five companions, stoic and serious, all of them.

  “Aye. Tis no joke, Knight General. And, if I may ask your silence and secrecy on the matter?” Zen received nods from the knights and Tubrey and half the little minstrels gathered.

  “You may and I shall honor it. Though here in the middle of two cities, we are far from prying…”