The Grey God (War of Gods 4)

The Grey God

Book IV, War of Gods

By Lizzy Ford

http://www.GuerrillaWordfare.com/

Edited by Christine LePorte

http://www.ChristineLePorte.com/

Cover art and design by Dafeenah

http://www.indiedesignz.com/

Kettlecorn Press/Guerrilla Wordfare

ISBN: 978-1-62378-029-6

 Amazon Edition

The Grey God
copyright 2012 by Lizzy Ford

 Cover art and design copyright 2012 by Dafeenah

Excerpt from
Anna
copyright 2012 by Julia Crane

All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

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“Katie’s Hellion” (Book I, Rhyn Trilogy)

“The Grey God” (Book IV, War of Gods)

Prologue: The Schism

Day of the Schism

Immortal World

White God’s Hall

The White God, Darian, strode through his marble halls, the soft footfalls of his leather boots the only sound in the imperial corridor. He trotted down the stairs from his palace to the apple orchard that stretched from his home to the imperial city beyond. The sun peered over the ocean to the north while blooming apple trees sprinkled their flowers into piles in a cool sea breeze. His closest friend and advisor, the Original Immortal Jule, waited for him atop a horse.

“Late,” Jule said, a smile on his dark features. The colorful tattoos on his body told stories of great battles in artful, geometric writing.

“A god is never late,” Darian replied. He pulled himself up onto the horse beside his friend’s. His personal Guardians trailed at a respectful distance, out of earshot but close enough if something happened. “One day, you’ll understand.”

“The lure of a woman?”

“The lure of the perfect woman. Sensual, sweet, beautiful.”

“A king needs a warrior, not a doll,” Jule teased.

“Not this king. And she can fight, the perfect minx.”

“If you say so. I’ve yet to meet one who could have me mewling at her feet the way you mewl at Claire’s.”

Darian smiled. The entire imperial city knew how taken he was with his mate. The eldest of any of the White Gods to mate, he’d been lauded with celebrations for days upon the announcement that he’d chosen a bride. He was glad he’d waited for the right partner rather than ceding to his advisors’ desire for him to mate just to produce an heir.

“Her father, though, I wouldn’t trust as far as the beach is from here,” Jule added. “Still shady.”

“I keep him occupied with assignments I tell him are important,” Darian said with a snort.

They reached the beach, and Darian saw his young brother wielding a sword in complex weapons forms.

“He wants to be like his older brother,” Jule said, amused. “How old is he now? Sixteen?”

“Seventeen.”

“And you haven’t mated him off to some powerful House?”

“He hasn’t the temper for a woman yet. He’ll be a warrior, methinks,” Darian said. “Probably a solitary warrior.”

Jule chuckled, as aware of the youth’s temper as Darian was.

“Looks good, little brother,” Darian called as they approached.

The tall, stringy youth with white-blond hair turned to face them. His face split into a large smile, and he waved the sword in the air.

“You’re out early,” Darian said. “Another duel?”

“Indeed. I have matters to settle with a certain merchant’s son,” his brother said.

“How would you like to join my Guardians?” Darian asked.

“I’m not some lower born peasant.”

“You’re not. But you need something to keep you from challenging every merchant’s son who insults your boots.”

“He insulted my cloak!” the youth shot back. “You would put me in the Guardians, your own flesh and blood?”

“If it kept your hands off the women in court and the merchants’ sons out of the Healer’s ward, yes,” Darian replied.

His young brother’s face fell. “Father would not have done such a thing.”

“Wrong,
ikir.
Your father would’ve put you in the Guardians long ago,” Jule corrected him.

“You’d get to see the mortal world at last,” Darian baited. “You’ve wanted to go since you were as tall as your sword.”

“I guess. What would I do, Darian? I have the power that runs in our blood, but I don’t have any of the natural skills the peasants have. Would they even want me among them?”

“Claire was one of them,” Darian reminded him. “She speaks highly of the Guardians and just as highly of you. You would fit in very well.”

“You’re a great warrior, Damian,” Jule added.

“According to the servants, Claire likes warriors,” Damian said.

“Hold it, boy,” Darian warned. “You know the rules. The most sacred vow a White God takes is to his family.”

“I know. She’s my family now, too,” Damian said and rolled his eyes. “I liked it better when it was just us, Darian. Yesterday was the first day we’ve spent together since you mated with her months ago.”