Gods Of Blood And Fire (Book 1) (19 page)

He knew that Dragita was one of the most powerful nations in the world. He had heard their armies were vast and their leaders cunning. Rufio claimed to have once been a cavalry officer for them. The Dragitan had short dark curly hair and was built like a block of stone. He didn’t talk a lot and Cromwell liked that about him.

Vandarus, the Bandaran, seemed a fine warrior. He was as tall as K’xarr and strong. Cromwell didn’t like the fact he came from a country that worshiped the One God, but aside from that he found no fault with the young warrior.

He knew K’xarr was angry with him and Kian. The Camiran didn’t like anything interfering with his plans. If Kian hadn’t decided to take on the mercenaries single-handedly they would still be with the band and K’xarr would be happy. The truth was neither he nor K’xarr would have troubled themselves to help the villagers. They both saw it as how the world worked: the victorious survive and the defeated die.

It was Kian’s courage that had made him step forward and the fact that the Half Elf had saved him from a spear in the back. Cromwell knew he was no thinker. The whole incident confused him, he had never thought about helping anyone weaker than he was. It was not the Toran way. In Tora the weak and helpless were left to die. It made the clan stronger.

The wounded Half Elf was prepared to die for villagers who wouldn’t trouble themselves to spit him. Kian’s act of valor had shamed the barbarian.

It was like one of the stories the old ones told of the
Arradar
. K’xarr would not understand, he was not Toran and had not lived with the Toran laws of honor.

He knew K’xarr would think Kian a fool or mad, but Cromwell knew better. He saw what was in the little swordsman’s eyes, he was willing to die for what he thought was the honorable thing.

Cromwell talked of honor all the time, it’s what the people of Tora lived for, yet he had seen little true honor among the clans. Kian had the kind of courage the old Toran stories talked of. The world was very strange sometimes. He needed to stop thinking on it, his sword was sharp and he travelled with brave men. Things were good.

“What are you thinking about? I hope it’s about how you and Kian cost us all a lot of coin.” Cromwell looked over, he hadn’t even seen K’xarr ride up beside him.

“I think we did the right thing,” Cromwell said holding his head high. K’xarr mouth opened to speak then he closed it. He shook his head and rode up to the front of the wagon.

Cromwell started to follow K’xarr to make him understand what he meant, then thought better of it. It would be smarter to let him cool off first.

Vandarus rode over to where Cromwell trailed behind the wagon. He was grinning again. Cromwell could not think of a time in the last few weeks when the Bandaran wasn’t talking, and he almost always had that aggravating smile on his face.

“I think you pissed him off, big man.”

“Aye, it’s not a hard thing to do,” the Toran said.

“Tell me something, Cromwell, do Torans ever laugh?”

“Rarely, tell me something Vandarus, do Bandarans ever shut up?”

“Point taken, my friend, I just wanted to say Rufio and I agreed with you and the Half Elf about the villagers.”

“It was Kian’s idea, not mine. I would have watched them burn just like you would have.”

Vandarus gave the Toran a confounded look. “True enough, my friend, I feel bad about it too. I couldn’t believe the half-breed had the guts.”

Cromwell gritted his teeth and stopped his horse. “Watch your mouth, Bandaran, there are no half-breeds here.”

“Sorry, I meant nothing by it. It’s just he is a Half Elf and you know ... I’ll be off now.” Cromwell lowered his brows and did not reply.

Vandarus turned his horse and rode up to where the healer sat driving the wagon. “Siro, can I ask you a question? Since you’re a healer and a man of knowledge, you may have an answer to something that has been plaguing me.”

Siro nodded. “Ask I will answer if I can.”

“How the hell did you get that ugly?” Siro frowned and spat on the ground, slapping the reins and driving the wagon faster.

Vandarus laughed so hard he almost fell off his horse.

Cromwell sighed and rode up ahead to join K’xarr. “Where are we heading?”

“Southeast, we will skirt the mountains and ride into Warmark, see what trouble you and Kian can get us into there.”

“Damn you, K’xarr, you were there, you saw him limp into that circle of cutthroats, take the captain’s head, and then defied the rest of those bastards to doing anything about it. That is something most only hear about, let alone see, and I was not going to be out done.”

K’xarr shifted in his saddle, “Not let him out do you, in what, stupidity? Cromwell, we were just lucky to get away with our lives and we lost all our pay, for what? A bunch of worthless peasants. I don’t like rape or slavery, but you didn’t see me trying to pick a fight with the whole company over it. We have to be smarter than that.”

“You aided us, why if it was so foolish?”

“You’re my friend, Cromwell, and I suppose that unconscious half-breed back there is too. Listen to me now, we can’t let Kian play hero anymore, we’re mercenaries, we fight for pay. The villagers were not paying, so we should not have been fighting for them.”

Cromwell banged his fist on his chest. “I know what we are, Kian only stood by his principles and I stood by him.”

K’xarr stretched back in his saddle, they had been riding a long time already. “Don’t be so naïve and stop getting all worked up. We aren’t knights or heroes from a story, we’re sell-swords and poor ones at that. It’s hard enough to keep a job very long with this accursed blood of ours. Just keep him and his principles in line. Okay?”

“I will do my best but he is an
Arradar
, K’xarr, it will be hard.”

“I don’t even know what the hell that is, Cromwell.”

“It is a Toran word for someone who will die for a cause, a protector of the weak. In the traders’ tongue it means defender.”

K’xarr looked up at the sky, “That’s just what I need.”

Chapter 9

I
bet you’re glad to be out of that wagon,” Vandarus said.

“It was a long ten days. I know the wagon was slowing us down. Now that I can sit a horse we can move along,” Kian said.

“I don’t know how much speed we picked up without the wagon, Siro and that damn mule aren’t much faster,” Vandarus said, pointing behind them with his thumb to where the healer rode.

Kian chuckled, he liked Vandarus. He seemed like a good man. The Bandaran always seemed to be in a good mood unlike his other grim companions.

K’xarr had brought a horse along for Kian when they left the Birds of Prey, but when they had abandoned the wagon in Warmark the little healer was stuck riding the small mule that had been pulling it.

“Hey, Siro, see if you and your gallant steed can move a little quicker,” Vandarus called out.

“I really hate you, Vandarus, more every day.” Kian laughed. Vandarus had made sport of the healer since they met. The two had entertained their companions through the long days of riding. Sometimes even Siro had been amused by the Bandaran’s jokes. Kian had been worried about it at first; he thought the men really hated each other. He soon realized that the two men were just jesting with each other. The Half Elf still had a hard time understanding why people thought ridiculing someone was funny. So he just laughed along with them when they insulted each other.

The ride through Warmark had been uneventful and slow. The bleak land and its people were both unfriendly. The farther south they rode, the more futile the land became. They crossed the Tyborg River into the rich pasture lands of the Kingdom of Alarusia. Kian thought the countryside was beautiful. Small farms dotted the landscape, and they had even passed a couple of small towns. They had not stopped at any of them, K’xarr thought it better not to visit anywhere with too many people. He told them it was too easy to get into trouble in a town. K’xarr had looked right at him when he made the statement. The Camiran said that he want to keep traveling east and get on the Gold Road. His plan was to follow it south.

Kian couldn’t wait to get his first look at the famous road even though he was a little nervous. The Gold Road was heavily traveled, he would have to be careful and to try and hide his race as best he could. Most humans were at best indifferent or just rude to his kind, but there were those whose hatred for half-breeds would cause them to do violence over their prejudices and misconceptions. Sometimes he wished he was human and didn’t have to face the world’s scorn. It would make things much easier for him and his new companions.

They made camp not long after crossing the great Tyborg River. They ate a sparse meal of dried beef and wild onions. The small company all sat around a crackling fire as the sun sank below the horizon. “K’xarr told us you’re a trained swordsman, Kian, is that true?” Rufio asked from where he sat, leaning back on his arms.

Kian nodded. “Yes, that is true.”

“Don’t take this as an insult but how did you find a master to train you, being a Half Elf and all?”

Kian gave the Rufio a sad grin. “It is a long story.”

The stocky Dragitan moved around until he seemed comfortable. “I have nothing to do at the moment but listen to a long story.” The others all gathered around waiting to hear what Kian had to say.

He had not thought of Elu in a long time. “My first master was Elven, his name was Elu Elensar. He was a frequent visitor of my mother’s.

He was a very old, even by Elven standards. I took a liking to him right off, sometimes when he was waiting for my mother to take him up to her room, he would tell me stories about knights and dragons and Elven heroes from long ago.”

Rufio sat up. “Your mother was a courtesan?”

Kian hung his head. “She was.”

“No shame in that, Kian, I have known many fine whores,” Cromwell said. “There was one that lived in the villages of the Claw Clan that had the biggest…”

“Cromwell,” K’xarr interrupted.

“What?”

“Shut up, Kian, go on with your tale.”

Cromwell gave K’xarr a dirty look. “My apologies, Kian, go on.”

Kian took a breath and continued. “I grew very fond of the old man ,he was kind to me. Few of my mother’s visitors were. Elu was smitten with my mother, Kia. He came to see her at least twice a week. The old man had asked her to marry him many times, I could tell she was fond of him but her answer was always no. Once I had asked her why she always turned down Elu’s proposals.