Duty Calls: The Reluctant War God Book 1 (11 page)

I promised Olo I’d check on his woman and also I selfishly wanted to see Angelina, so I ignored orders and did what I wanted to do anyway. In spite of it all, I was still a god and I liked having my own way.

A full curfew was in effect. I walked shielded in the veil of the aether to avoid the city guard who had been ordered to stop anyone moving about.

The moon had risen red and large on the horizon and it spilled soft orange shadows across the cobblestone streets. It was all very quiet and peaceful, but with a foreboding silence of anticipation. Everyone had heard the cryptic voice of the dead herald, and they feared what would happen come morning. There could be no lying to themselves. The rumors were true. The foe they faced wielded dark powers and none knew how to fight back against such a force.

I eventually found the small brick house of the tailor in the trade district. It was as Olo had described it. A sign bearing a pair of scissors hung over the door with the name Smyth painted below. The tailor plied his trade in the downstairs shop during the day and at night retired to the living quarters above.

I stepped out of the aether upon the tailor’s doorstep. I rapped loudly, and finally I heard a faint “who is it?” from within.

“Open up. I have a message.”

I saw feeble candlelight spill from underneath the stout wooden door. Then I heard the sound of the bar being removed. The door opened a crack and I saw the eye and nose of a thin older man wearing a dirty nightshirt. “What do you want?”

“I must speak to Molly,” I said.

The man rolled his eyes. “Go away,” he said and slammed the door shut.

I don’t take kindly to having doors slammed in my face. I pushed the door forward before the man could set the bar back in place.

“Stop! You can’t come in here. I’ll call for the guards.”

“I don’t want to hurt you. I’ve been sent here by Olo. I just need to make sure Molly is all right, he’s worried about her.”

“I don’t give a damn who sent you. That thieving bitch Molly is in the back where she will stay and you are going to get out of here,
now.
” The man reached for an iron poker next to the small hearth.

I strode forward and wrenched it out of his hand. “Wait just a minute. I’m here to see Molly, and that’s what I am going to do… Molly?” I called.

I ignored the man’s protests and walked into the house. I saw nothing but bolts of cloth, a workbench and some articles of half finished clothing in the downstairs front room so I continued into the storage room and then up the stairs into the living quarters.

Going room by room, I finally found a woman who had to be Molly in the kitchen. She was hiding in the shadows with two small children. Olo had said the little girl was named Sally and the boy was called Kip. They’d been sleeping on thin blankets on the floor, and they were keeping warm from the embers of the cooking fire. She was visibly afraid, and I saw her face was bruised.

“What happened to you? More importantly, who did it.”

The sputtering tailor stood behind me. “I’ll tell you what happened. She got what was coming to her. She’s been stealing food from my table and taking it to that worthless husband of hers. I let her and her brats stay here in exchange for her cooking and cleaning, but I’ll be damned if I’ll let her steal from me. We need all we have for the siege.”

I approached the woman. “Are you all right?”

She nodded.

“Olo was worried about you. He loves you very much and he wanted me to check on you.”

“Thank you, sir. But I think you should go. Mr. Smyth has been good enough to let us stay here and I don’t want to cause trouble for him.”

I turned to Smyth, “Did
you
do that to her face?”

“She needed to be taught a lesson. Damned peasant trash. I’m a respectable tradesman and if it wasn’t for the fact this bitch is my wife’s sister, this rabble would be on the streets.”

“I see. Well, I suppose it was simply unforgivable for her to want to take some food to a man that’s defending this town of yours from invasion.”

“Defending the town? He’s toiling in the dirt like the trash he is, digging ditches. He’s no warrior.”

“Ah, well you see I would have to disagree with you on that. He’s one of the king’s men at arms now. And as a representative of the king is entitled to an amount of respect, as am I.”

“You are nothing but a hoodlum. You leave this house at once. And you take that slut and her bastards with you. I want you all out!”

At this point, Smyth’s wife came downstairs. She was a dowdy woman in a nightgown and a sleeping cap. She put her hands to her face in dismay. “No, you can’t. She’s my sister. She’s family. Please James, don’t do this.”

Molly and the children were bawling now, the tailor’s wife was crying too, and the tailor was cursing. It was a lovely moment for all concerned. I was
so
glad I decided to do Olo the favor. I’d done such a fine job of it. I had not only made sure she was all right, I had made things so much better for everyone else.

“Shut up!” I screamed.

They went silent immediately. I scream well.

“Molly, gather your things and the children. You’re coming with me.”

“Yes, slut. Get the hell out of my house.” the tailor said.

“You, I should by all rights… kill.” I said and began to withdraw my sword from its sheath.

The man turned white. “But, but…”

I placed the tip against his throat. “What? You think that’s unfair? Family comes to you for a little help and you turn her into a slave, and then beat her because she wanted to take her husband a bit of food—he being a soldier that’s risking his life to defend your home? Sounds like you need to die to me.”

“No, please,” his wife was begging me and trying to get me to sheath the sword. I really hate that.

“All right.” I slid my blade back into the scabbard. “Tailor, get your things packed, when I find a place for Molly to live, I’m coming back here to get you. I’m going to take you back to camp with me. I think you need to join the army, see the world, be all you can be.”

“What? No, I have to stay here. I’m a tradesman. Valuable to the war effort.”

“
Pft
. Really? Do you think a nice set of trousers are going to send the Jegu packing? Your skills are handy during regular times, but during a time of war I think the best thing we could do with you is put a halberd in your hand and have you face a cavalry charge.”

“No, please. I don’t know how to fight.”

“That’s not stopping Olo. He’s willing to try. He’s man enough to fight and die if needed to save his family.”

“I—don’t want to die.”

I laughed. “Nobody does, partner, but think of the glory. You’ll even get a fine funeral. You’ll have a chest full of metals pinned to you when you are laid out on the slab. There’s not any finer a death. I’ll see you later. Come on Molly, let’s go.”

The woman had only a few belongings, which she had stuffed into a blanket tied at the corners. She slung this over her shoulder and had her little girl by the hand. The little girl Sally had her little brother Kip by the hand. Together we went out into the night like a little caravan.

I quietly covered us in the veil of the aether as we walked. They were so in shock I doubt they even noticed.

“Where will we go?” Molly asked.

“Don’t worry. It will be somewhere where you won’t have to be a scullery maid to a tyrant. Of course, I can’t say what will happen when the siege begins. All bets are off at that point.”

“I didn’t mind. Helping with the work was really was the least I could do.”

“You shouldn’t have taken that beating, woman. It wasn’t right.”

I took her to the Black Rose Inn. I handed the innkeeper a stack of gold coins freshly conjured from a hiding place in reality where I keep such things. With gold all was possible, even in a castle town preparing for siege. I handed Olo’s wife another stack in a small leather bag. When I left them, I got the distinct impression she was wondering if it all wasn’t some odd dream.

I considered going back to kill the tailor for good measure, but reasoned it was something the “old” Kaltron the War God would do, not Carl the Minstrel. Unfortunately. It made me admit that Old Kaltron had his good points too.

No. I’d let things be. But let him sweat thinking I was actually going to come back and ask him to defend his home instead of having other more unfortunate but better men die in his stead.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

I visited Angelina in her room above the tavern. She was alone again. Surely more to do with the fact of slow business rather than any romantic notion of monogamy, but it made me feel good anyway. It wasn’t that I thought that the feelings she had for me were insincere, but she was a tavern girl making a living he best she could and I was a realist.

She beamed a smile at me as soon as I walked in the door and it made me feel warm inside. Big shot god but still a sucker for the smile from a pretty girl. Pathetic. I could almost hear Nanaya’s laughter. She could go to hell. Moments like this were a reason to keep hanging around living for eternity.

We sat on the bed and exchanged a few kisses. Then I began to ask what I needed to know.

“Last night you said you wouldn’t mind going away with me. I know it’s the most cliché thing in the world to want to take you away from all this. But, I need to know that now, after you’ve had some time to think about it, you feel the same.”

Angelina nodded. “I do. And I know it’s not possible. I just like to think about it. You and me in a little house somewhere near a brook in the woods. Childish, really, but it gives me some pleasure to dream.”

I nodded. “If it were possible. Let’s say that sometime during the siege I could find a way to get us out of here, and take you to that little house. Would you want to go?”

“Of course, but how can it be?”

I smiled. “Let me worry about that. Besides, the siege is likely to last for months. Most of the harvest is in so the town is well provisioned. Winter will be coming on and that is on our side. Actually, we are in very good shape.”

She smiled and nodded. I knew she had heard the voice of the herald as well. She wanted to believe me. I wanted to believe me too.

But, I had what I needed to know. She would go with me when I called for her. I would pick a time when I saw that the city was going to fall and no help of mine would make a difference. I would call forth Blackflame and I would sweep Angelina up and away from this place and we would ride long and hard for the farthest place I could imagine. I would use the road of the gods and explain it all later. Then I would return to Tarnon and do what I could until there was nothing left to fight for. Then I would return to Angelina and we would spend our time together until Jegu finally found even us.

But that was the future. Now, since we were alone and since I had already done my good deed for the day, it was time to have a little reward.

I kissed Angelina and moved my hands over her soft skin. I gently pulled off her clothing until her warm, tender, naked body was completely exposed to my gaze and touch.

She started working the ties of my jerkin, then loosened my belt and began to open my pants.

“Carl? What is this?”

“Darling, if you don’t know by now, I doubt—”

“No Carl, I mean these silken undergarments. Is there something you want to tell me?”

“What?” I looked down. I was somehow wearing red panties of silk and lace.

“Carl, I don’t mind. We can play a bit. It certainly keeps things interesting.”

I backpedaled of the bed, grabbing at my pants and pulling them up. “You don’t—this isn’t—
these aren’t my pants!
”

Angelina looked baffled and shook her head. “It’s okay, honey. It’s all good fun. Believe me, I’ve done things far more unusual than this, dearie.”

“
Arghh.
No, Angelina, you don’t understand. This is some sort of trick.”

And then it hit me. I knew exactly who the culprit was.

“I’ll be back,” I said, and after hastily pulling my drawers up I left Angelina’s bedroom.

I took the back stairs and went into the stable, cursing and kicking and spitting all the way.

“Kevin? Where are you? Bastard. Son of a Bitch.”

A voice answered from the shadows. “Since we both have the same mother, that makes the statement a lot funnier than you might mean it to be.”

From the darkness of the stable flew a raven, which in a flutter of feathers transmogrified into a man who stepped into the pool of light afforded by the moon shining through the stable door.

He was known by many names, Ananse, Gwydion, Hermes, Kokopelli, Loki, Bamapana, but he like myself preferred to go by a less ostentatious
nom de plum
e—Kevin the God of Tricksters in his case. He was wearing a dark cloak, which he opened dramatically revealing a colorful red and yellow tunic with black and white checkered pants and bright green boots.

“You look like Bozo the clown,” I said.