The Godling Chronicles (Shadow of the Gods, Book #3) (7 page)

“
I see you let the fat one live,” said
Barty.

Millet looked down at Devon. “Load his
friend's body in the wagon.” He reach in his pocket, and handed
Barty a small bag of gold. “Take this, and Lord Devon, away from
Sharpstone. Make certain he has a shovel to dig a grave, and give
him the gold when he's done. It should be enough to take him
wherever he wants to go.”

“
And where is that?” asked
Barty.

Millet leaned down and cut Devon's bonds.
“That's up to him. But I daresay, he should reconsider a return to
Baltria.” A sinister grin crept on his face. “Though his father may
welcome him, I doubt the rest of the faithful will be
as...understanding of his failure.” He shrugged. “The choice is
his. I care not.”

Barty and Randson lifted the body and carried
it away. Devon followed close behind. When they had gone, Millet
sat in a chair near the fireplace and bowed his head in
thought.

Dina sat across from him and leaned forward.
“Are you all right?” she asked.

Millet looked up and smiled weakly. “I will
be.” He looked over at where Sherone's blood still stained the
floor. “During my travels with Lee, I've been forced to kill. But
never like this. I've never murdered a helpless man.”

Dina reached out and placed her hand on
Millet's knee. “You did what had to be done.”

Millet nodded. “I know. But I didn't want
this.” He looked around the room; the walls were decorated with a
lifetime of adventures. “Any of it. I was never meant to be a
lord.”

“
I don't know,” said Dina. “It seems to
me that you are a very good lord. To do things against your own
character in order to protect those you love is a very noble thing.
It's what a lord should be.”

Millet rose to his feet and looked at Dina.
His face was filled with contempt. Not for her, but for himself.
“And I may never forgive myself for it.” Then he whispered, “Or
Lee, either.” He took out the blade that had ended the life of
Sherone and stared at it. “Once I poisoned a man who was conspiring
to kill a sword-master Lee was studying under in Dantory. I watched
him writhe and twist on the floor, until the life left his body.
This was a thousand times worse.”

“
Do you regret your actions?” asked
Dina.

“
My heart does. But my mind tells me
that it was foolish to even let Devon live.” He put the knife away.
“I'm an old man, Dina. I've traveled far, and seen many things. But
until now, I've always had the luxury of viewing from the outside.”
He knelt in front of the blood stain on the floor. “Now, I'm in the
midst of it. Now, it is me who needs to hear the voice of reason. I
was that voice for Lee Starfinder. Who will be that voice for
me?”

Dina stood beside him. “Let me be that
voice.” She gently lifted him to his feet. “Though I doubt I am as
wise as you.”

“
Before I was made Lord of the
Nal'Thain family, that was possibly true.” He turned to her and
shook his head. “Now I am as Lee once was. The responsibility rests
with me, and that responsibility can drive away the person you are,
in favor of the person you need to be.” He took a long, deep
breath. “And I know this is only the beginning. More blood is to
come.”

“
True,” said Dina. “But for now we need
to wash this blood away.” She headed toward the kitchen. “Get some
rest,” she called back. “I will attend to this and leave for
Helenia in the morning.”

Millet didn't protest. He went to his
chambers and dressed for bed. As he lay in the dark, he could still
see the knife sliding across Sherone's throat. He could see his
victim's eyes open in terror, then close forever. The vision filled
him with anger and sorrow. Millet Gristall was no more. That man
died the moment Sherone gasped his final breath. Lord Millet
Nal'Thain had been left in his stead. And that man was at war. And
with a troubled mind, he drifted off to sleep.

The next morning there was a loud banging at
the manor’s front door. Millet donned a robe and went to answer it,
but could hear that Dina had gotten there first. Angry voices
echoed through the house from outside. When he finally arrived at
the door, Dina was in the center of the doorway, her hands firmly
planted on her hips.

“
Who is it?” asked Millet.

“
Mayor Freidly,” came a voice from just
outside. “I'm here with members of the faithful. We need to speak
with you.”

“
Show them in, Dina,” said Millet. “I
need to dress, then I will join you.” He turned and headed back to
the bedroom. His heart pounded in his chest. He wondered if Barty
and Randson had returned. He dressed in a casual pair of white
cotton trousers and shirt and slipped on a fine pair of soft
leather shoes. He knew he didn't exactly look like the richest man
in Sharpstone, but it would have to do.

When he arrived in the main hall, Mayor
Freidly was standing at the far end of the room. His bald head,
short, round features and wide-set blue eyes, were just as Millet
remembered. However, he was wearing a red silk waistcoat, and fine
linen pants and shirt, which was unusual for the mayor, being a man
of modest means. Three black-cloaked men stood beside him. Their
hoods were pushed back, revealing their dark hair, pale skin, and
angry expressions. Millet thought they had the look of Baltrian
nobles.

“
Mayor Freidly,” said Millet, bowing
his head ever so slightly. “It's good to see you again. To what do
I owe the pleasure of your visit?”

The mayor looked flushed and nervous. “It's
good to see you too, Millet. Though I wish it was under better
circumstances.”

“
I don't understand,” said Millet,
feigning ignorance. “What is the trouble?”

“
You know what the trouble is!” roared
the faithful farthest from the mayor.

The mayor held up his hand. “Please, Master
Troungo. Let me handle this.” He turned back to Millet. “These men
claim that two of their brethren disappeared last night.”

“
I'm sorry to hear it,” said Millet.
“Still, I fail to see why you have come to me. I only just arrived
back in Sharpstone, and have had little time to get to know the
newcomers.” He looked at each of the faithful in turn. “Though, I
must admit, their reputation has preceded them. Why would you think
to find them here?”

“
They claim that two of their order
came here last night to welcome you home, and never
returned.”

“
I'm afraid I can't help you,” said
Millet. “I swear by the Gods, no one other than myself, Dina and
those that live here passed through the door last
night.”

“
Enough of this,” said the faithful
nearest the mayor. “You know they came here. And you know where
they are.”

Millet smiled. “And to whom do I have the
pleasure of speaking?”

The man glared daggers, but didn't
answer.

The mayor cleared his throat. “This is
Toliver Hall, and the men with him are Henris Longshadow, and Alex
Troungo.”

“
Baltrian nobles, from the sound of
them,” remarked Millet. “You are very far from home, and
dressed...oddly...for a noble.”

“
We are the faithful of the Reborn
King,” said Toliver. “And I'll ask you again. Where are our
people?”

“
Yes, I know all about the faithful,”
said Millet. His tone hardened. “And I already know what you've
been up to here in Sharpstone. And as I said, no one called on me
last night.” He shrugged. “Perhaps they longed for home, and
returned to Baltria rather than come here. It would seem a sensible
course. I hear that there are plenty of the faithful in Baltria. At
least for now.”

Toliver's hand began to slip beneath his
robe.

“
Gentlemen,” said the mayor, stepping
in front of Toliver. “Clearly, your companions are not here. We
should leave.”

The front door opened. Barty and Randson
entered. The moment they saw the three faithful, they moved to
Millet's side.

“
Mayor Freidly, I'm sure you know Barty
and his son Randson,” said Millet. “They were here last night, and
can certainly attest to the fact that no one came to welcome me
home.”

“
Nope,” said Barty. His eyes drilling
holes through the black-cloaked men. “We saw no one.”

Millet grinned at Barty. “Is all in
order?”

“
Indeed it is,” Barty
replied.

“
Then if there is nothing further,”
said Millet, stepping aside to let the men pass. “I have much to
attend to.”

The mayor herded the faithful to the door,
bowing as he passed.

“
This isn't over,” said Toliver. He
then turned on his heels and stormed out.

The door slammed shut.

“
No, it isn't,” muttered
Millet.

Chapter 6

About half an hour before Gewey, Kaylia, and
Linis had reached the Chamber of the Maker, the sun broke through
the clouds and brilliant rays of light pierced the pine needles and
danced on the forest floor. The sweet song of birds hidden in the
high treetops echoed and the earthy scent of pine and moss carried
on a gentle breeze. Kaylia insisted they slow their pace to a
leisurely stroll. Holding Gewey's hand, she merrily hummed a tune
that Linis recognized and soon joined in, harmonizing in a deep
baritone.

“
Why the sudden cheer?” asked Gewey. He
was loath to interrupt, but could no longer contain his
curiosity.

Kaylia gave his hand a squeeze. “We may be at
war, and darkness may swallow the world, but never forget to look
around and enjoy the wonder of it.” She breathed in deeply. “And I
suspect that once we reach the Chamber, these things will go
unnoticed for quite some time.”

Gewey saw a squirrel darting in and out of
view of a nearby pine. It made him think of Sharpstone, and the
woods near his farm. As a young child just before the Long Freeze,
he had built a tree house. He would spend the afternoon reading in
it until the sun went down. A family of squirrels had built a nest
in a nearby tree. He’d watched as the nest filled with babies and
laugh when the mother would bristle every time he climbed up. Come
autumn, the babies had grown enough to leave the nest. He
remembered feeling sorry for the mother squirrel. Gewey smiled and
shook his head at the silly things children do.

“
That was a lovely vision,” said
Kaylia.

Kaylia's words brought him back to the here
and now. It still amazed him how much she could see through their
bond. For Gewey it was different. He felt emotions and impressions,
but never visions. He wondered if that would change when their bond
was completed.

“
I was a boy,” said Gewey. “After the
Long Freeze I went back. The tree house was crumbled and rotten,
and the nest was empty.”

“
All things change, my friend,” said
Linis. “And sometimes, not for the better.”

Soon the trail widened and met with the main
road leading to their Chamber. At the crossroads, they saw three
elves barring their way. Two were elf men and wore shimmering red
tunics and breeches, long black coats that reached their thighs,
and soft, black leather boots. On their sides hung thin long
swords, the jewels on each hilt sparkling brightly in the sun.
Their silver hair fell loosely over their shoulders and down their
backs, and even from a distance Gewey could see their bright green
elf eyes staring keenly at him.

The third was an elf woman. Half a head
taller than the men, she was adorned in a blood red gown that fit
nicely to her curves. A white sash was tied about her waist, and
along with a thin silver belt, a small dagger hung on each hip.
Unlike the others, her hair was jet black, decorated with wisps of
silver which peeked out just enough to catch the sun and give her
the illusion of an aura.

“
Do you know them?” asked Kaylia. Her
hand released Gewey's and slid to her knife.

“
No,” Linis replied. “But stay your
hand. We would not want to make friends into foes from our own
fears.”

Kaylia tightened her jaw and moved her hand
to her side.

“
Greetings,” called Linis, holding his
hand high. The elves didn't move. “Who are you, and what is your
business?”

The elf woman whispered into the ear of the
elf on her left. He nodded slowly. She took a step forward and held
up a delicate hand. “Greetings,” she said. Her voice was gentle and
calm, and though still several yards away she sounded as if she
were just in front of them. “Come and walk with us. It would seem
fortune has made our paths as one.”

Gewey, Kaylia, and Linis paused for a second,
then approached.

Linis bowed. “I am Linis. This is Kaylia and
Gewey. Your speech and dress are unfamiliar. From where do you
hail?”

The elf woman smiled brightly, and though she
bowed in turn to the group, her eyes never left Gewey. “I am
Aaliyah,” she said. “My companions are Mohanisi and Nehrutu.” The
elf men bowed in turn. Both elves were similar in appearance, apart
from Mohanisi being a bit slighter in build, and an inch taller.
“As for our home...that is a question best answered later.”

Kaylia stepped forward. That Aaliyah’s eyes
still rested on Gewey, had not escaped her notice. “I think it is a
question to be answered now.”

“
Fierce,” said Mohanisi. “Much as we
expected.”

“
Decorum my friend,” scolded Aaliyah,
though not too harshly. “They know us not, and have been through
much hardship and pain.”

“
And what do you know of it?” asked
Kaylia.