The Godling Chronicles : Of Gods and Elves (Book Two)

by Brian D. Anderson

  “That has been a thing much debated between Vadnaltis and me,” Grentos replied. “I would not have you escape to the temples.” He glanced over at Maybell. “I can only assume that is what you were planning. Nor can I simply kill you. That would not sit well with Vadnaltis.”

  “What's your solution?” asked Malstisos.

  “You will face my challenge,” Grentos answered, sounding pleased with himself.

  Malstisos reigned in his horse. “You cannot be serious.”

  Grentos backed away a few steps. “I am. Do you accept?”

  Malstisos slid from the saddle but made no move to draw his weapon. “You have no right to do this.”

  “Don't I?” scoffed Grentos. “I think I have every right to call out a traitor.”

  “What's going on here?” Maybell demanded. “What is this challenge?”

  “If I were a seeker and had broken their code, or if I had refused judgment of the elders,” Malstisos explained, “Grentos would have the right to challenge me to single combat. But as neither is the case, he has decided to take matters into his own hands.”

  Vadnaltis placed his hand on Grentos' shoulder. “He is right, brother. You cannot do this. Call him to face judgment instead. You have that right.”

  “He will not honor it,” Grentos countered. “He's just like the rest of our kin who have taken up with the humans.”

  “Perhaps,” said Vadnaltis. “But then he shows his dishonor, and can be put to death. As it is, you have no authority. The elders have not given any such edict, and our laws forbid it.”

  “We have already been through this,” Grentos let out, his frustration clearly showing. “The elders have already ordered the death of a traitor without judgment. What is the difference?”

  “They were wrong to do so,” said Vadnaltis. “And the difference is, we are from the steppes, and we hold to the laws that have guided our people for thousands of years. Would you behave as the rebels and throw away the laws because they are inconvenient?”

  Grentos shook off Vadnaltis' hand and turned his back. “We've been over this. I will not be swayed.”

  “And if Malstisos refuses the challenge?” he asked. “What then?”

  “Then not only will he die,” Grentos replied darkly. “But his human pet will die with him. As it stands, I'm willing to let her go in peace.”

  Sadness washed over Vadnaltis' face. “I will ask you, one more time, to reconsider.”

  “I will not,” Grentos replied. He spun around to face Malstisos. “Do you accept or not?”

  Malstisos opened his mouth to answer, but Vadnaltis stepped in front of him.

  “I challenge you, brother,” said Vadnaltis. His eyes were full of tears. “Do you accept?”

  “What is this?” Grentos cried. “You cannot do this.”

  “I ask again,” he pressed. “Do you accept?”

  “I...” Grentos stammered. “I...I do.”

  The two elves stepped away from the horses and took opposite positions on the road. Maybell moved close to Malstisos and grabbed his arm. “What is going on?” she whispered.

  Malstisos bowed his head. “A tragedy,” he said. “And an act of pure honor.”

  The two elves put down their bows and quivers, and each drew their long knives. “Why?” asked Grentos. “Why do you do this?”

  “Because I love you too much to see you live in dishonor,” Vadnaltis replied. “Should you strike me down, it is unlikely you will be strong enough to defeat Malstisos after, even if he is not a seeker. And as you well know, the challenge made cannot be withdrawn.”

  “Then I hope I die by your hand, brother.”

  Grentos charged.

  Vadnaltis stepped aside, narrowly avoiding Grentos' initial onslaught. For several minutes, the battle then raged. Time and again they traded blows, each unable to gain an advantage over the other.

  Eventually, it was Grentos who struck first as his blade cut deep into Vadnaltis' left thigh. Blood poured from the wound, soaking the elf's leather trousers. Any human would have collapsed in agony, but Vadnaltis showed no signs of weakening. He spun around and brought his blade across the right shoulder of Grentos. Grentos staggered forward but quickly regained his balance. Both elves stepped back for a moment, blood dripping from their blades.

  Grentos felt the wound on his shoulder and smiled sorrowfully. Tears streamed down the face of Vadnaltis.

  “Deep enough,” said Grentos looking at the blood on his hand. “You have killed me. I beg you - finish it.” He dropped his weapon and fell to his knees.

  Vadnaltis slowly approached his comrade and stood over him. “I will join you soon enough, brother,” he said, placing his hand on top of Grentos' head and muttering a prayer. “I send you to the Creator.” With that, he plunged his knife through Grentos' heart. The elf gasped, then crumpled over onto his side.

  Maybell was weeping uncontrollably. Her thoughts went to the death of Berathis.

  Vadnaltis pulled his knife free and cleaned it on his shirt. “Malstisos of the Finsoulos Clan.” he said without looking up, “I call you to judgment for crimes against our people.”

  Malstisos took a step forward but did not approach Vadnaltis. “I am bound to see this woman to safety,” he replied. “But upon the fulfillment of that duty, I will face judgment.”

  “Then go in peace,” he said. “I would perform the rites alone.”

  Malstisos bowed low and motioned for Maybell to mount her horse. They urged their steeds on in the direction of town in silence. Once they were a few hundred yards away, Malstisos began to weep. Maybell rode in silence, tears stinging her eyes also. They halted just before they got to town.

  “I know you don't understand what just happened,” said Malstisos softly.

  “I think I do,” Maybell replied. “At least part of it. What I don't understand is why Grentos allowed himself to be killed.”

  “He was dead either way,” answered Malstisos. “The fight would have continued for some time, and Grentos was losing too much blood. Even if he were victorious, he would have been so weak that he could not have challenged me successfully. He chose to die by his brother’s hand, instead.”

  “Seekers and their ways are beyond my understanding,” said Maybell. “I could never kill a sister - not even that devil Salmitaya.”

  “Yes,” said Malstisos. “But they were more than just seekers. They were brothers.”

  “You don't mean...” she gasped.

  Malstisos nodded slowly. “I do. They were brothers by birth.”

  “How do you know?” She reeled at the thought.

  “He is performing the burial rites alone,” he replied. “That is only done under two circumstances. If there are no others there to help - or if it is blood kin, killed by your own hand.”

  “Monstrous,” Maybell cried. “And you intend to let such people judge you?”

  “They are my people!” he yelled, causing Maybell to recoil. He then took a breath and calmed himself. “I'm sorry. I shouldn't expect you to understand. Forgive me.”

  “There is nothing to forgive,” she assured. “It's just...I can't...”

  “I don't expect you to understand all of our ways,” Malstisos said. “But know that I am not afraid to face judgment. In fact, after today, I welcome it. I am tired of the division within my people. Perhaps this is the only way that we can heal.” He urged his horse forward.

  They spent the rest of the day in utter silence. Maybell picked up a few supplies, but was in no mood to linger. The only thing she wanted to do was get back to her tent and sleep. On the trip home she could smell the funeral pyre burning somewhere in the forest and began to weep once again.

  Vadnaltis did not return to the camp, not that Maybell or Malstisos expected him to. When asked, they said that the two elves had gone off hunting. When they didn't turn up the next day, a search party was sent out to look for them. However, after a time it became clear that they were gone. The camp divided their belongings, giving Malsti
sos a purse with coin matching the value of the gear and possessions. Malstisos promised to pass this on to them should he see them again.

  But something had changed in him. Maybell could sense it, but did not know what it was. As the days passed, Malstisos became more and more withdrawn, sometimes disappearing for hours. When she tried to speak to him, he would just say that he was fine and only needed to think. But somehow, this didn't ring true. It was as if his spirit was broken. She prayed to the gods that she could help him to heal.

  Chapter 20

  Lee hurriedly packed their gear and helped Dina to prepare a quick meal of dried meat and fruit. Jacob refused to eat at the same table and took his meal into the living room. By the time Jansi returned, the party was ready to depart. The sun had been down for more than an hour, and only the faint lights from the windows of the nearby houses lit the streets. They said farewell to Jansi, mounted up, and made their way out of the city. The gloom of the streets pleased Lee. The darker the better. He had even planned their exit from Baltria to avoid sections that were lit by lamps.

  They wound their way through the streets, Lee leading the way and keeping watch for signs that they were being followed. At first, there was nothing out of the ordinary. Then, just as they entered the main avenue leading to the city gates, they noticed a small group of five people wearing dark cloaks. They were carrying torches and standing to their right on the walkway. As they passed, the group fell in behind them.

  “The faithful, I presume,” whispered Millet. “What should we do?” “Nothing,” Lee replied. “Do nothing until they make a move.”

  As they continued, more began to emerge and follow. By the time the gates were in sight there were nearly thirty behind them.

  “Be ready,” said Lee. “When I give the signal, we'll make a dash for the gate.”

  A lone figure stepped in front of them, barring their path.

  “Move aside,” Lee commanded.

  “Peace, Lord Starfinder,” said the figure, in a distinctly feminine voice. She pushed back her hood, revealing a familiar face.

  “Salmitaya,” Dina hissed. “I should have known you were behind this rabble.”

  “You're wrong,” she replied. “I am just a servant - and a messenger.”

  “Then deliver your message.” Lee gripped the hilt of his sword. “I have no patience for the likes of you.”

  Salmitaya smiled, amused. “Very well. Reconsider your present course. Yanti knows you intend to refuse his offer. He also assumes you intend to attempt to free your wife. This will fail, and you and your family will die.” She took a step forward. “Yanti begs you to reconsider. You could live in peace and wealth. You need not sacrifice any more than you already have. He promises this, and more. You could even return to Hazrah as governor if you wish. You can go home and have the power to protect your people.”

  “I already intend to protect my people, witch,” snarled Lee. “Perhaps I should begin by taking your head.” His sword sang as he pulled it from it sheath.

  “That would be unwise,” said Salmitaya, pointing to the faithful grouped behind them.

  Lee let out a hearty laugh. “You think that rabble frightens me?” He sprung from the saddle and turned to the mob. “Many of you know who I am. You know my reputation. So open your wretched ears and know this. I swear that should you attack me, or any of my friends, that I, Lee Starfinder, son of Saraf, God of the Sea, will kill every last one of you.” He took a long step toward the faithful. The mob stirred uneasily.

  “I await your response,” called Salmitaya.

  Lee spun around. “My response is this. Tell this Yanti creature that before this business is over, I will bathe my sword in his blood. If he wants to save his own life, he should run as fast as he can to Angrääl and return my wife to me at once. Then, he should pray to whatever he worships that I decide it is enough for me to spare him.”

  Salmitaya bowed her head. “I will convey your message. He will be disappointed, I'm sure.” She snapped her fingers and the mob slowly dispersed. “Farewell Lee Starfinder. I'm afraid we will not meet again.” With that, she vanished into a nearby alley.

  Lee tensed, awaiting an attack, but none came. Finally, he remounted his horse. “I guess they are choosing to strike later, rather than sooner.” He clicked his tongue to urge his horse forward.

  They passed through the gates unhindered. Lee noticed the lack of city guards. So did Millet.

  “The guards seem to have abandoned their posts,” Millet remarked.

  “We just met the keepers of Baltria,” said Lee. “They've taken the city with a force more powerful than any army - fear.”

  “Perhaps it's time we gave them a taste of their own medicine,” said Dina.

  Lee turned and smiled maliciously. “I intend to.”

  They headed north through the delta roads for several hours. Dozens of small bridges made good spots for an ambush, but they passed them all unmolested. From time to time they would see lights from torches several hundred yards ahead, but these always disappeared before they reached them.

  “They seek to unnerve us,” said Millet.

  “They only succeed in angering me.” Lee slowed his horse, allowing Jacob to catch up with him. “Are you alright?”

  Jacob glanced over, unaffected by their situation. “I'm fine. Worry about yourself.”

  Lee tightened his lips and spurred his horse forward to retake the lead position. Millet joined him.

  “It will take time, My Lord,” said Millet. “He's had many years to form his opinions, but I know you can make him understand.”

  “Thank you, my friend,” he responded. “I hope I live long enough to do so.”

  “You've never failed before,” said Millet. “You will not fail now. You will put your family together again.”

  “I have to tell you,” said Lee. “This Yanti person made a tempting offer. If I wasn't so certain that it was a lie, I might have taken him up on it.”

  Millet nodded with understanding and dropped back to join the others. They rode until it was near dawn and Lee had found a decent place to rest and eat.

  “We rest for three hours,” he said. He turned to Millet. “Tomorrow night, you'll take Jacob east. I'll take Dina with me as far as Sharpstone.”

  “I really wish you would consult me about these things,” said Dina, scowling.

  “I can't take you with me,” said Lee. “There is a good chance I'm marching to my death, and I won't be responsible for yours.”

  “I know I can't go with you,” she said. “But I have no intention of being left in the middle of nowhere. I'm a cleric in the Order of Amon Dähl, and I have my own duties. I will go with you as far as Sharpstone, but from there I will return to the temple.”

  Lee nodded. “You're right, of course. I apologize.”

  Dina smiled, reached in her belt, and pulled out a small flask. “Here.” She tossed it to Lee.

  Lee opened the flask and the air filled with the scent of plum brandy. “Ahhh!” He smiled, took a sip, and closed his eyes, savoring the sweet taste. He offered it to Millet who refused, and then called out to Jacob. As Jacob turned, Lee threw the flask to him. Without a word, Jacob took a sip and then threw it back.

  “Manners, young man,” said Dina.

  Jacob glared at her for a moment. “Thank you for sharing your flask - Dina.”

  Lee kept watch as the others tried to catch a bit of sleep. Later, while they were preparing to leave, he walked up to Jacob and handed him a sealed letter.

  “What's this?” the boy asked.

  Lee pressed the letter into his hand. “Should anything happen to me, or should Millet somehow be unable to fulfill his promise to tell you everything, I have written it all down here. Please, just don't open it until after you've reached Dantary.”

  Jacob paused, then stuffed the letter into his pocket. “I'll wait.”

  They kept to the road north until reaching a fork. Here, they veered to the right, heading northeast. By mid-af
ternoon they neared the spot where they planned to split up. Up ahead, Lee spotted a figure standing in the road. He scanned the area for signs of an ambush, but could sense no one else nearby. When they were less than one hundred yards away, Millet sat up straight in his saddle.

  “That's Yanti.”

  Lee nodded. “I'll deal with him.”

  Yanti was dressed in a black shirt and trousers; even his leather boots were black. His hair was tied back in a tight ponytail, and a long sword hung loosely at his side.

  Lee halted his horse and slid from the saddle. “Yanti, I presume.” His tone was dark and vicious. “Unless you are here to tell me that you're on your way to retrieve my wife, you've signed your own death warrant.”

  Yanti smiled, unconcerned. “Lord Starfinder. At last we meet. I've looked forward to this for quite some time.” He tapped the hilt of his sword with his index finger. “I am saddened that you have chosen to refuse my offer. Unwise.”

  Lee slowly drew his weapon.

  Yanti cocked his head. “I see you are in no mood for idle talk. Still, I would be remiss if I didn't give you one more chance to abandon this course of action.”

  Lee turned to the others. “Should this go badly, ride hard. Follow Millet. He knows where to go.”

  “What say you, Jacob,” called Yanti. “Will you follow Millet?”

  “Leave my son alone,” Lee roared. “You...”

  He stopped short as Jacob walked past, holding out the letter he had given to him.

  “He gave me this,” his son said, handing Yanti the letter. “Probably no more than sentimental drivel, but there might be something useful in it.”

  “What is this?” Lee demanded.

  “I'm sorry,” said Yanti. “Jacob and I are old friends. He's been quite helpful to our cause. Without him, Hazrah would have been much more difficult to subdue.”

  “Jacob! You can't do this?” Lee appealed. “Your mother...”

  “Is weak,” said Jacob cutting him off. “If she had her way, Hazrah would still be under the yoke of the temples.” Hatred poured from his eyes. “You know, she never stopped believing that you would return one day. She probably still thinks you're going to save her. But she is as big a fool as you are.”