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

by Brian D. Anderson

  “A shame, it is,” rang the voice of Felsafell. “To see blood of the young wasted. But blood there will be and nothing more.”

  “I have heard you were here,” said Eftichis. “What wisdom do you bring us? Do you think to stop me?”

  “No, oh no,” Felsafell replied. “I am no mover of elves or molder of fate.”

  “Then why are you here?” called a voice from the crowd.

  Felsafell surveyed the gallery, then his eyes fell on Gewey. “I am here to live in the world one last time. Oh, yes, once more before the end. To see a child of heaven walk the earth. To hear the wails of the elves and cries of men. To free my brothers from winter’s cold grasp.” He reached out and took Gewey and Kaylia by the hand. “Come with me. The dawn comes early, and there is much to say.”

  The three made their way back out of the Chamber, followed closely by Theopolou and Linis. Once they had reached Theopolou's tent, Felsafell released them and took a seat at the table. Gewey, Kaylia, and Linis did likewise, while Theopolou gave orders to his escort. This done, he joined the rest of the group.

  “Did you know this would happen?” Gewey asked Felsafell.

  “A fortune teller I am not,” he replied. “Things I know, I do indeed. But the future. A mystery difficult to grasp.”

  “I suspected someone may try to stop you,” said Theopolou. “But I never thought Eftichis would lie openly on the Chamber floor.”

  “He was lying.” Gewey turned to Kaylia. “Wasn't he?”

  Kaylia stared down at the table. “Perhaps. His father was close to mine. They fought together during the Great War. If he promised me to another, I was never told. But I suppose it is possible. Eftichis would have been a good match for me had my life taken another path.”

  A pang of jealousy shot through Gewey, but Kaylia smiled and placed her hand on his.

  “You will have to kill him,” said Linis. “There is no way to avoid it.”

  “Perhaps,” said Felsafell. “Always choices. Always new roads to travel. Listen to me, child of heaven.” His eyes fixed on Gewey. “My time in this place is at an end. A new road I must travel. But this you must know. The cold of the north comes swifter than you can imagine. Not ready to face it are you, but you must. Hard choices you will make, and many deaths will you see. Your true mother will soon be revealed, and with this knowledge will come madness. Your bonded mate will save you if you allow it. But the cost may be more than you can bear.”

  He rose to his feet. “One last thing. Do not falter. Do not retreat, and all will be overcome.” With that, he walked toward the back of the tent. “Until the morning I remain, I will. Then off to free my kin.” He pushed back the flap and disappeared down the hall.

  “I really don't understand him,” said Gewey.

  “You're telling me that he walked all this way, just to tell you that?” said Linis. “Now he's leaving?”

  “Felsafell has his own reasons,” said Theopolou. “He comes and goes as he pleases and speaks in his own time. Besides, I think you have more urgent matters to attend to.”

  Gewey nodded. “Is there anything I should know about Eftichis?”

  “He's strong,” said Kaylia. “Had his father not been the leader of his people, he would have likely been a seeker. It is known that he has great skill with a weapon. You should be cautious.”

  “Indeed,” said Theopolou. “Do not underestimate him, as he will underestimate you. Though your display in the Chamber will have given him pause, not to mention the others watching. The best thing you can do is get some rest and gather your strength. In the morning you will face him, and we shall see.”

  “I wish there was another way,” Gewey grumbled. “Why must everything be life or death? I really don't want to kill him.”

  “But kill him you must,” said Theopolou. “Otherwise Kaylia will be taken from you, and there will be nothing I can do to stop it.”

  Gewey’s fist clenched until his knuckles turned white. “Then death it is.”

  Kaylia put her arm gently around Gewey's shoulders. “This will only be the first of many, I fear. But I'll be with you until the end.”

  “I'm afraid you are not allowed to attend the pudnaris,” said Theopolou. “You must remain here until it is over.”

  Kaylia turned to Theopolou, her eyes burning with fury. “I will not wait here while Gewey faces death.”

  “Yes, you will,” said Theopolou. “You have no choice.”

  “Don't worry,” said Linis. “I'll be with him. I know he will prevail.”

  Kaylia scowled. “The moment it is over, I expect you to send word.” She turned to Gewey. “And you - show no mercy. I will not have you killed. Forget everything else. Just win.”

  Gewey smiled and said, “I will, I swear.” He kissed her lightly on the forehead. “I haven't come this far to die now.”

  “Then you should rest while you can,” said Theopolou. He rose to his feet. “As should I.”

  “How are you feeling now? Are you still being…drained?” asked Gewey.

  “No. It ended once we neared the Chamber. Whatever the cause, it has no effect in this place. Do not be concerned. We have more pressing matters at hand.”

  “Agreed,” said Linis. He looked at Gewey. “Come. I know it will be difficult, but you need to at least try to rest.”

  Gewey gave a deep sigh and nodded. “I'll try.”

  Linis led Gewey to his room, Kaylia immediately behind them.

  “Don't worry,” Gewey said to her just before he entered. “I'll be fine.”

  Kaylia smiled sweetly and put her hand on his cheek. “I know.”

  Through their bond, she allowed him to share her emotions. Gewey's heart pounded as he felt the love come pouring through. He watched as Kaylia walked away, then went inside.

  Linis smiled broadly.

  “What?” said Gewey, suddenly embarrassed.

  “Nothing,” Linis replied, still smiling. “You have come a long way since I first met you in that tavern. Even then I knew there was strength in you. But I think Kaylia has made you invincible. I pity Eftichis.”

  “I'm trying not to think about it,” said Gewey. “I know what I have to do. But I still wish there was another way. I've killed before, but this time it's different.”

  “Why?” asked Linis. “Because it's an elf?”

  He shook his head. “Listen to me, Gewey. This will not be the last time you will face one of my kind. There is a split among my people. The idea of a second split once weighed heavily enough on our hearts to prevent it. But now it is inevitable. The world is changing, and the new ways are struggling with the old. I regret to say that means more blood will be spilled. We have already been attacked once by our own kin.”

  Gewey remembered the assassin, and the hatred in his eyes.

  “War is upon us,” Linis continued. “And this time the victor will shape the future for both races. Even the most reluctant elf knows this. When you face Eftichis in the morning, you are fighting for much more than just you and Kaylia. Your victory will see that your voice is heard by all elves. Many think humans weak and without honor. Tomorrow you will show them differently.”

  “But I'm not human,” argued Gewey. “Not really.”

  “That may be,” Linis countered. “But you were raised as one. You have their values, and you are what is best in men. The strength I speak of has nothing to do with a sword, though admittedly it helps. That you have the courage to face the elders and speak your mind shows the rest of my people true power. That you fight for the bond between you and Kaylia shows that you will not be deterred, and should be treated with respect.”

  He placed his hand on Gewey's shoulder. “Tomorrow is about more than the pudnaris. By striking down those who would challenge your rights, you send a message that will echo throughout all the elf nations.”

  Gewey's face twisted into a sour frown. “Thanks. Nothing like a bit of pressure just before a life and death struggle.”

  Linis chuckled. “I think y
ou can handle it. But sleep now. I will keep watch.”

  “For what?” Gewey began to remove his clothes.

  “Who knows?” Linis replied and dimmed the light.

  Gewey lay down on his bed and closed his eyes. At first he tried to calm his mind and sleep, but soon realized that this was not going to happen. He decided to reach out to Kaylia, hoping that Theopolou wasn't able to block him, though he couldn't imagine any reason why he would. To his relief, he found her. As their spirits became one, his body relaxed and he became lost in the sheer emotion.

  Is this what it will be like after we're completely joined? he asked.

  It will be better, replied Kaylia. Much better.

  Chapter 28

  Yanti lounged inside his cabin aboard the Moon Shadow. It was sturdy, as river vessels go, though not as lavish as he would have liked. But the wine was good and the food passable. It had taken them quite some time to navigate the delta and enter the Goodbranch River; pushing against the wind and current with oars made for slow progress.

  Fortunately, he was in no hurry. Plans were already in motion, and his direct intervention was no longer necessary, at least for now. There was a soft rap at the door. He took a sip of brandy and got to his feet.

  “Enter.”

  The door opened and Braydon, the first mate, stepped timidly inside. “Beg your pardon, My Lord.”

  “What is it?” Yanti asked irritably. He did not care much for midday interruptions.

  “A small craft has pulled alongside.” A bead of perspiration appeared on Braydon’s brow. “Says he has a message for you.”

  Yanti furled his brow. “Did he give his name?”

  “No, my lord,” Braydon replied. “But I don't like the looks of 'im - all covered in black, and all. He smells foul too. Like death. And his voice. He hisses more than speaks, he does.”

  “Let him on board and bring him to me. And be quick.”

  Braydon bowed awkwardly and hurried off.

  A few minutes later the door swung open and there stood the figure of a man covered in a long black cloak. His face was hidden, but Yanti could hear a slow growl coming from beneath the hood. Braydon stood just behind, his face pale and fearful.

  “You may go,” said Yanti to the first mate, who eagerly did as instructed. The door slammed shut and Yanti took a seat, crossing his legs in his usual aristocratic fashion. “To what do I owe the pleasure of a visit from the Vrykol? I assume our Lord knows you are here.”

  “He knows,” the Vrykol hissed. “He knows much. He knows of your plans and is unhappy. They will not succeed.”

  Yanti cracked a smile. “Unhappy you say - I see. Well, my pungent friend, we shall see how unhappy he is when I deliver the godling to him, as well as his elf mate.” He picked up his brandy and held it under his nose for a moment. “All is in order, I assure you. Oh, and he can look forward to having Lee Starfinder among the converted as well.”

  “The Great Lord is not so optimistic,” said the Vrykol. “He foresees problems.”

  “What kind of problems?” Yanti tried to conceal his concerns.

  The Vrykol reached inside his robes and withdrew a sealed letter. Yanti took it, doing his best not to touch the Vrykol.

  “By the by,” Yanti remarked. “A bit bold of you to be out in the open, don't you think?”

  The Vrykol gurgled with grotesque laughter. “The Master has perfected us. Only a few mindless beasts still roam. Humans fear us and choose what they see or don't see.”

  “Then I can look forward to more visits, I take it,” said Yanti.

  “No,” replied the Vrykol. “I will stay with you - until the end.”

  Yanti scowled. “Then I hope your kind can bathe.” He opened the letter, reading it carefully. “Wait here,” he said, getting to his feet.

  Stuffing the letter inside his jacket, Yanti threw open the door and made his way on deck where he found the captain busy navigating the river. The sun was high in the sky and there was a winter chill in the air, despite the fact that they were still far south. His Master’s doing.

  “Pull along the bank and retrieve my horse from the hold,” Yanti ordered as he strode up. “I'll be getting off here.”

  Captain Tarn, a stout, broad-shouldered man, did not shift his eyes away from the river. Unlike the first mate, he was clearly not intimidated by Yanti. “Not here,” he said gruffly. “Too dangerous.”

  “Here,” Yanti demanded. “Now.” Tarn ignored him.

  Yanti turned and sought out the first mate. He found him in the galley eating a bowl of fish stew.

  “Can you pilot this vessel?” asked Yanti.

  “Aye,” Braydon replied. “As well as the skipper, I'd say.”

  “Good,” said Yanti. “Come with me.”

  Confused, the first mate pushed his bowl aside and chased after Yanti, who was already making his way back on deck. The moment the captain came into view, Yanti drew a small dagger. Before Braydon could utter any kind of protest, Yanti hurled the weapon. The captain's eye shot wide as the blade buried itself deep into his throat. He grabbed at the knife, falling to his knees and letting out a gurgling groan. Blood poured from his throat and mouth. Yanti walked slowly over and with one strong kick, sent the man crashing through the railing and into the river. Three sailors stepped forward, but backed away when Yanti drew his sword.

  “You are promoted.” Yanti smiled as if nothing had happened. “Now land on the bank and retrieve my horse from the hold.”

  Braydon gaped in stunned silence. Yanti snapped his fingers, bringing the first mate out of his stupor.

  “Get to it,” Yanti ordered.

  Braydon grabbed the wheel and carefully guided the boat to the western bank while one of the deck hands retrieved Yanti's horse from below.

  Yanti returned to his cabin and gathered his belongings. The Vrykol stood patiently in the corner.

  “I hope you don't mind walking,” Yanti said, feigning concern. “We have far to go.”

  The Vrykol made no response and followed Yanti topside. The gangplank had been lowered, though it did not quite reach the shore.

  “This is as close as we could get without running aground, My Lord,” Braydon explained, his voice filled with trepidation.

  Yanti looked at the first mate for a long moment, then turned to stow his belongings onto his saddle. At the same time, the Vrykol leaped to the shore with unworldly strength, drawing gasps and murmurs of amazement from the crew.

  “If I were you, I would forget you ever saw me - or my companion.” Yanti mounted his horse. He reached into the pouch on his belt and held up a silver coin. “Do we understand each other?”

  “I...I understand,” replied Braydon, trembling.

  Yanti tossed the first mate the coin and urged his horse down the gangplank. He cursed as water drenched his boots. For a moment he considered returning to kill the first mate, but dismissed the idea. Braydon had already ordered his men to pull up the plank and shove off.

  “I know your kind are fast,” Yanti said to the waiting Vrykol. “You will need to be.” He spurred his horse west into a dead run, not bothering to see if the Vrykol was following. He knew the creature was not far behind.

  He reached into his jacket and touched the letter. He would not allow his plans to fail - even if it meant that the godling had to die.

  Chapter 29

  “It is time,” said Linis.

  Gewey opened his eyes slowly, allowing the connection with Kaylia to slip away. He felt rested and strong. The echo of Kaylia’s final thought rang through his mind. I'm with you always. He sat up, swung his legs over the side of the bed, and stretched.

  “I've laid out your clothes.” Linis told him, nodding to the corner. “I've chosen soft leather for you. It will allow you to move freely, while giving you some protection.”

  Gewey smiled. “Thank you.” He rose to his feet and dressed. As he attached his sword to his belt, Theopolou entered. Akakios followed just behind.

  “I will
be awaiting you in the Chamber,” said Theopolou. His eyes were somber, and for the first time Gewey noticed age on his face creeping in. “You should wait here for only a few minutes after I leave. I am told Eftichis is already there.”

  Gewey's lips tightened. His connection with Kaylia had released the stress of the coming fight, but the mention of his opponent’s name brought it flooding back. “I'll be there. Is Felsafell with you?”

  “No,” Theopolou replied. “He was already gone when I went to his room.” Before Gewey could reply, Theopolou and Akakios bowed and left.

  Gewey took a deep breath and squared his shoulders.

  “Remember why you fight,” said Linis. “And remember what you are. To face you is to face death.”

  This stabbed at Gewey. He knew it was true. Since leaving his small village, death had become a part of his existence. He had killed many times. Now he was to once more be the bringer of death. He steeled his wits. So be it.

  Linis studied Gewey for a moment. “Good. You have the same look in your eyes that Lee had, just before he fought Berathis.”

  Gewey checked his sword and moved to the room’s exit. “I know what I must do.” With that, he pushed back the flap and made his way into the main hall.

  Following Theopolou’s instructions, he waited there for only a few minutes before leaving. Once outside of the tent, the chill of the morning air washed over him. He filled his lungs and surveyed his surroundings. The camp was quiet. Only a few scattered elves roamed about. Gewey guessed that most were already waiting in the Chamber of the Maker to witness the pudnaris. The stillness made him shiver.

  As he made his way to the Chamber, the few elves he encountered stared at him, not with hatred as he would have thought, but in wonder.

  “Why are they looking at me like that?” Gewey asked.

  “They marvel at your courage,” Linis replied. “I imagine most thought you would flee.”

  “Perhaps I should,” Gewey joked. “Maybe I should just grab Kaylia and head east.”

  “I wish that were possible, my friend. If it were, I might even come with you.”