Duty Calls: The Reluctant War God Book 1 (10 page)

She held me tight. “Yes, Carl. I think I would. I don’t know why, and maybe I shouldn’t say it. But I would like to spend that time with you.”

It was enough for me. I didn’t ask her to speak of love. Love was as fickle as my sister. For her it might be a lifetime, for me it was a span of years I would gladly spend with this fair woman. It sounds stupid. But I truly found in her a kindred spirit. I had been around and knew the difference between bodily lust and true companionship. I was true to my word. If we survived the Jegu, and she still wanted me, I would stay with her.

“Angelina, if we survive the Jegu. I will stay with you for the rest of your life.”

The time for words was over.

I took her cheeks in my palms and drew her lips to mine, then kissed my way along her slim cheek line and down to her graceful neck. Her warm, salty skin made my body hunger.

She eased back from me and pulled the simple nightdress over her head and threw it to the floor. I devoured her body with my eyes as the warm candlelight flickered across it.

She reached out to me and pulled me back onto her. We held each other and made love, sweating and writhing and thrusting like it was the end of the world. I didn’t get a moments sleep that night, and was glad I didn’t.

After we rested in the glow of our spent bodies for a while, I rose and began to leave. I had to be back at the camp before sunrise.

“Carl,” she said softly in the darkness.

“Yes?”

“I won’t hold you to anything. But, it was nice you asked, and I’m glad I told you how I felt.”

I brushed the hair from her face. “I won’t hold you to it either, but I won’t forget my promise. I meant every word, Angelina. I
will
take you away.”

And I did mean it. I just didn’t know how to make it happen. Somehow, I had to get her away from Guldon. I would wait until the siege began to get ugly, but before people started to starve or die of disease. Then in the confusion, I would get Angelina and ride across the veils with her to someplace safe and far away. Then I would leave her there and return to do whatever I could to help. But from what I had seen of Jegu, I wasn’t sure I could do anything to stem the tide.

If Jegu was true to form, this kingdom would fall, then another, and another. I didn’t know any kingdom that could stand against the type of power I felt demonstrated that night. But it would still take time. I could take Angelina and keep her safe. Hopefully she could live out her span.

Except I wasn’t sure Jegu would be satisfied with only one world. I knew he must have come from another veil of reality, so he had the traveler’s blood. There was nothing to stop him from taking world after world. Until one day, Jegu would find Angelina no matter where I took her. If I couldn’t find the strength to defeat him then, I suppose, I would finally die, too.

Maybe that’s the way it was supposed to be. You live for a while, and then when it is your time, you die. That’s how it was for everything except the gods. I was tired of outliving my lovers anyway. Maybe Angelina was going to be my last. I could live with that. I was getting tired of forever.

Maybe it was because I had been too long away from the Bright Sword, but I felt very mortal that night. I wish I could tell you it was a good feeling and that I was satisfied and all right with the fear and weakness, but I’d be lying through my teeth.

The whole point of being human is dealing with reality of your fear and mortality, but living your life as if you weren’t afraid and as if you would live forever.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

The next day was a complete pain in the ass. It was time for the grand inspection of the troops by his Most High Royalness King Whatshisname. Actually, his name was King Cornelius the Third. I remember because it was stupid sounding. He was a typical inbred elitist snob who felt that he needed to inspire his troops to victory with some grand words. The problem is that there was work to do. Real work. Fortifying defenses, sharpening blades, repairing equipment. But all we had time for that morning was polishing, cleaning and organizing camp for the dog and pony show.

I did my part. I didn’t kill anyone who screamed at me because my boots were muddy. I feel that I exceeded all expectations for humility in a god. I just hoped no one would push it because the day was not over.

We were lined up in the hot sun for over an hour before the jerk decided to come outside on his pretty pony. I’m sure he did it because he wanted to raise the level of expectation to a fever pitch. All I thought he was accomplishing was seeing how many troopers were stupid enough to lock their knees and pass out.

I was in the back, way in the back with the stinkier peasants. Did I mention it was hot? I think we could have taken out a few companies of Jegu with our smell by the time the king started talking.

I could see him, but I couldn’t hear a word he was saying. He and his entourage were seated on white horses with colorful barding. He had his high priest with him, along with a mess of nobles and courtiers, and on either side of him—his generals. The king wore a crown and lovely white enamel armor highlighted with golden gilt work. There were arabesques and curlicues and little naked fat babies all over it. I couldn’t imagine a better breastplate to catch a blade. The problem is you want armor to guide blades away from you. But it was pretty and shiny, so everyone could see the king was with us. Whoopee.

He was reading something from a scroll held by a hose-wearing, sissy-boy courtier. He hadn’t bothered to memorize the speech. I should give the guy a break. It’s not like it was an important speech or anything. I mean, your kingdom is collapsing around you and it all comes down to the morale of your fighting force against a powerful opponent. No reason to put yourself out.

The generals who flanked on either side wore sumptuous cloaks. One wore red and the other blue. I have no idea what their names were and I didn’t care. At least their armor was more practical, but it was telling that this was the first time I had seen either of them and I had been in the camp for over a week. These were not “hands on” leadership types.

The High Priest was dressed in the typical white robes trimmed with gold thread. I ‘d seen him before and knew a bit about him. It was a matter of professional curiosity. He was of a sect which worshiped the royal family as a whole, from the king down to the idiot cousins as if they were direct descendants of the gods. As a result, he had an entire pantheon of idiots to satisfy his hunger for contradiction and stupid blind faith.

In fact, he demonstrated several contradictions himself. Vow of poverty and yet he was festooned with gold. Vow of sobriety and I’d personally seen him drunker than Cooter Brown last Saturday night. Vow of celibacy and yet he was surrounded by the most girlish and shell-shocked choirboys I’d ever seen.

But for all my cynicism, I looked around and I could see the men in my company were swelling with pride. They were in awe of their ruler. Olo was standing next to me and he actually had tears in his eyes.

“Look,” Olo whispered. “The king can read.”

Ah yes, I forgot for a moment. It’s all about perspective. If your expectations are low enough, you’ll always be happy.

Suddenly, a horn sounded from far off, interrupting the king. All eyes turned toward the North where a lone rider approached. He put away the bugle he had blown and lifted a white pennant. He was dressed as a herald and wore livery with a red “X”—an emissary from the Jegu. Of course, no one had raised the alarm. The soldiers were all sick with sunstroke and staring at a fat king giving a speech at the time.

As he approached, all could see that he was a tall, handsome young man. He was clear-eyed and rode tall and proud in the saddle. He wore no armor. He carried no sword.

He rode up to within twenty feet of Cornelius the Inaudible and there he was stopped by the king’s men.

He held up an open hand and spoke. “I am Thomas Laflin. I used to be one of your subjects, but now, I am the avatar of Jegu.” His voice was loud and strong, unlike our glorious leader’s.

“You’re a traitor,” one of the generals shouted. He obviously knew enough to let the men hear his defiant tone.

“I’ve come here to offer you the peace of Jegu. If you surrender yourselves, there will be no battle. There will be no death, no destruction, no pillage of your fine capital. Your farmers can return to their fields, and you, King Cornelius, will even be allowed to rule as always. All shall be as it was. If only you accept Jegu as god.”

“Your words sound fine, but we all know what you really mean. You mean for us to become Jegu’s slaves. Mindless followers of Jegu, bent on conquering all the world.”

The herald laughed. “Do I seem out of my mind? Am I not in control of my own will? I tell you Jegu is the one true god. You are correct in saying we want the entire world to accept Jegu, and the entire world shall accept Jegu because Jegu has willed it to be so. The old gods are lies. They have no true power.”

Guldon’s high priest stepped forward. “The gods are in our hearts. They protect us as they have protected our forefathers.”

“Where are they then? I know where Jegu is. I’ve seen Jegu. How many have seen these gods you speak of? Why are they not here to defend you now?”

The priest pointed a golden staff at the herald. “You blaspheme. The gods do as they will and it is not for us to question.”

“But I do question. I have a right to question as do all of you. Jegu tells me so. Your gods promise you an afterlife. This is a lie. They have no paradise waiting for your doers of good and no hell waiting for those who are evil. Your gods lie to you.”

“No. You’re the liar. You are sent here by the Evil One to test us. Jegu is the beast. Jegu is the deceiver!” The priest was working himself into frenzy. I doubt he’d ever heard anyone dare to speak the truth before. The herald was telling it straight, at least as far as my family went. I was ready to yell out an “Amen” and testify.

The herald laughed. “Please, please. I came not to argue philosophy, but to offer peace. What is your answer?”

The king stood taller in his saddle and this time his voice carried. “No! We shall not yield this kingdom to your demon god.”

Not too shabby, maybe the old guy had a pair after all.

“Very well,” the Herald said and nodded slowly. “I shall return to my camp and we shall meet here to do battle on the morn.” He turned and looked around to all the assembled army. “I do, however, extend my invitation to any and all of your warriors who wish not to die tomorrow. Follow me back to Jegu and you shall be saved.”

He stuck the pole for his white pennant into a holder on his saddle and reached into a pouch on his belt and drew out a small penny whistle. He turned his horse around and began to leave the way he came, playing the penny whistle as he withdrew slowly.

The sound of the melody struck me as odd. Then I noticed the effect the haunting tune was having on those around me. They were frozen in place, their eyes wide. Even the king was suddenly slack jawed and transfixed. I felt an oppressive power surround me. I watched with my inner sight as lines of magical force began to weave in the air.

Slowly, fighting men began to step forward, following the herald. I realized the power of Jegu was converting the entire army to his cause. Not surprisingly, I was not affected.

Olo started walking toward the herald. I grabbed him by the shoulders. “Olo!” I shouted. But he showed no sign of having heard me. His eyes were glazed and unseeing.

I broke ranks and ran forward, leaving Olo and the others. I caught up to the herald’s slow moving horse, then ran ahead to stand before the herald, blocking his way. The man looked at me curiously and played a bit more loudly on the penny whistle.

I shook my head. “I don’t much care for the tune.”

The Herald looked confused, but he continued to play. Obviously, he was committed now as his spell had entranced his followers, but would not continue to do so if he did not keep up the magical tune.

“I’m a musician myself, and this is my gig. Sorry, but you understand. This is a union shop and all, and you don’t have a guild card.”

I took a dagger from my waistband and hurled it toward the man. I caught him square in the throat. He dropped the whistle and with both hands grasped his windpipe trying to stop the fountain of blood. He fell from the saddle and lay twitching in the dirt as death closed in.

I walked back to my place in the troop. The effects of the spell wore off in a few moments. No one remembered who’d thrown the dagger. No one admitted they’d been going to join the Jegu. It was not spoken of. We all started to disperse.

But the corpse of the herald was not done tormenting us. A voice issued from his dead lips powered by a cold wind. “You will all die tomorrow, and I will have your souls.”

Even though the voice was only a whisper. Every man heard it clearly, as if it were meant only for him. I heard it too. I didn’t know whether to be scared or confused.

I wasn’t sure if I had a soul.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

That night I had to sneak away because even
I
couldn’t get a pass. None were allowed to enter the city. The powers that be felt there was too great a chance men might try to hide within the safety of the city walls, or leave the camp for the hills to avoid the battle rather than just go into town for some ale.