Age of the Gods: The Complete, twelve novel, fantasy series (The Blood and Brotherhood Saga) (7 page)

The drunk, apparently named John looked the barkeep in the face, and then glanced down at the crossbow. Hesitating momentarily, he lowered his stool then let it drop to the stone floor with a clatter. He looked at the man at his feet, turned and walked unsteadily to the door, muttering something about not gonna fight for Valdadore anymore, and how someone was gonna answer for his ruined night. Then he strode, somewhat unevenly, out the door, slamming it behind him.

Everyone in the room watched him go, apart from Ashton. The gangly blonde bounced out of his chair and weaved himself between the stunned patrons towards the injured man. Coming to his side, Ashton dropped to his knees and closed his eyes, his face turned skywards. His childish features relaxed and he spoke soft words then in prayer to his goddess, and opening his eyes he looked down to the man who lay before him. Lightly grabbing the man’s protective hands, he peeled them back to assess the damage. Several people who had gathered around him, including the twins, gasped at the sight. The man's jaw was broken and ripped wide open, spurting blood, and his nose was almost completely detached from his face. Ashton composed his expression to one of un-terrified concern. He lowered his own hands above the man's face, leaving a hair’s breadth between them and the man's mangled features. Chanting something nearly inaudible, Ashton’s features seemed strained with some unseen exertion. Yellow and white light began to glow at his fingertips slowly, steadily encompassing his entire hands. With each repetition of his chant the light increased in intensity. Sweat beaded on Ashton’s forehead, and his body began to tremble slightly. He chanted louder and louder though his words were incoherent, something foreign. The light from his hands now encompassed the face of the injured man and Ashton’s body shook more violently. Almost as if a cold wind blew down the young healer’s spine, his body shuddered as the magic took him over, racing through his blood. His whole body was consumed in light for a moment as he regained control over the power that coursed through him. As if struck with an arrow he suddenly stopped chanting, his eyes popping wide open, he grinned in the direction of the twins and then went limp, falling to the floor. Ashton lay, eyes wide, breathing shallow, still grinning at the amazing sensation coursing through his blood.

Ashton

The injured man lay next to Ashton in a pool of his own blood. He looked up at the faces around him, mouths wide open in wonder or horror, he couldn’t be sure which. All he knew was that most of the pain in his face had abated and the ringing in his ears had vanished completely. Not knowing how to react, he put his hands back up to shield his face, to try to stop the blood. But there was no blood, not now. Reaching up to touch his face, he found with his bloodstained fingers that it had been completely and utterly restored.

Garret

The guests all stared at the man on the floor and the boy beside him, speechless. Only Garret and Seth reacted. They raced to their fallen friend and reaching down, each grabbed Ashton under an arm and dragged his limp form through the crowd before resting him in a chair.

“Water!” Garret shouted, and a moment later the barmaid came hustling to their side with a large mug of clean water.

Long moments passed as Garret tried unsuccessfully to make Ashton drink. The boy just sat there propped up in the chair, a crooked grin on his face, eyes wide open but oblivious to the world outside his own mind. The injured man had since regained his feet and was towering in front of Ashton with a look of unsurpassed gratitude lighting his features. The barmaid too was standing nearby in case the boys required anything further. The barkeep had come around the bar at some point and was standing behind the small crowd, easily looking over their heads at the comatose boy. Ashton blinked. The crowd froze. His lips settled into a straight line. The crowd still refused to move. Most of them stared at him with anxious faces, their eyes wide and Garret realized his own mouth was still agape. Ashton took a deep breath and shook his head as if to clear it of some invisible fog. The crowd roared a cheer as if the boy had just slain a dragon.

The rest of the boys’ evening was filled with people approaching to congratulate Ashton. It was obvious that this made him more than a little uncomfortable, and often he replied that it was his goddess who had performed the healing, using him as her vessel. After the common room had cleared out a bit, with locals returning to their homes and travelers retiring to their rooms, the twins finally had time to ask Ashton the questions they had been dying to ask for the last few hours. Garret started with questions about his limitations.

“What if an arm is chopped off or a leg?” Garret asked. “Can you heal that?”

“Not yet,” Ashton admitted with a weak grin. “Perhaps when I have more practice and training I could do it, but thus far his face was the hardest thing I’ve done. I nearly pushed myself too hard. Untrained healers are known to die for pushing their limitations. Wielding the power of a god is taxing, but it can be rewarding too.”

While Ashton explained all this to Garret, Seth sat silently, absorbing the information. When he was finished, Garret listened as Seth asked just one question of their friend.

“What does it feel like? I mean, what is it like when your goddess feeds her power through you? It almost seemed that you were enjoying yourself while performing, and then when you finished healing the man, it was like you were drunk or something?”

Together Garret and Seth watched as Ashton thought for a moment, pondering the best way to explain it. It showed plainly on his face that an explanation was not easy, but even so, Ashton tried the best he could.

“Well, I guess you could say that it feels wonderful to channel her power. It is kind of like a drug I guess, you feel it throughout your entire body like it is surging through your blood. It’s the best feeling you could ever imagine! For me it is like I can actually feel Lorentia’s love like a physical thing pumping through me. It’s hard to explain really.”

Seth nodded in response, taking the answer as it was.

“I’m curious if it is the same for all magic users?” Seth asked. “Perhaps I might get the chance someday to ask other magic users if they feel it the same way.”

“Maybe,” Ashton agreed.

“Let’s get to our room and rest up,” Garret added after a moment lost in his own musings.

Thus decided they left the common room, deciding unanimously to get an early start in the morning. They found their room quickly and unlocked the door. Clamoring inside, they took turns removing their packs before piling them in a corner. It was a small, simple room constructed from the same stone as the exterior of the building, with a desk and two beds. Since it was an interior room there was no window, only a small lamp that hung off a peg in the wall. Seth was quick to give up his place in a bed for the night as it was obvious that Ashton was worse for wear, looking well beyond drained. Ashton argued that he should sleep on the floor being as the twins had been the ones to pay, but both of the twins squashed his argument and so it was decided. Garret and Ashton undressed and climbed into their beds. Seth pulled his blanket from his pack and curled up on the floor, his back against the door. The trio was quick to find sleep this night. None tossed or turned, all exhausted from their long day. When morning came, none would remember having any dreams. It would be a peaceful night.

Seth

Seth awoke suddenly, springing to his feet from the floor.  Aroused by a clamor, his head darted this way and that as his eyes located a moving form in the darkness. Ashton had been the first to wake, but while getting himself dressed, accidentally knocked Garret’s sword over. Smiling into the darkness as Ashton shrugged an apology, Seth turned as Garret too climbed to his feet from the bed opposite Ashton. Still Ashton stood frozen, a sheepish grin on his face.

“Sorry ‘bout that guys!” he said to them sincerely.

“No problem,” Garret replied, still groggy. “We needed to get up early anyhow.”

Before long all three of them were dressed. Grabbing up his equipment, Seth waited for his companions to do the same before turning to open the door. They headed down the empty hall to the common room, from where they could hear voices echoing. They made their way back to the familiar room to be greeted by several faces they had seen the night before. Looking around Seth caught the eye of the barkeep and the large man smiled and waved them over. Nudging his brother and Ashton, Seth relayed the unspoken invitation. The three of them made their way to the bar and seated themselves where, the night before, Ashton had performed a miracle of his chosen deity.

The barkeep approached them from across the stone bar, a smile still on his face, and greeted them with his loud booming voice. He thanked them, his eyes on Ashton, for their help the previous night and graciously offered them breakfast ‘on the house’. The boys happily accepted, and the barkeep turned and disappeared through a large door behind the bar.

All three of them sat quietly for a while, taking in the room now lit with the morning sun, and realized it was quite a cheery place. Seth couldn’t help but to compare this inn to the one they had been raised in. All in all, the inns had little in common, besides the fact they both had a bar in the center of the common room and a kitchen past that. Beside that singular similarity, the two were hardly comparable. Seth, still looking around, noticed that many of the inn’s patrons were looking at them, speaking in whispers and muffled tones. Some of them pointed towards the bar when they spoke, others simply jerked their heads in the boys’ direction. Thinking that Ashton’s acts last night must have spread through the town and these were people come to see the healer, Seth glanced at Ashton to see if he had noticed as well.

It was immediately apparent that Ashton had. His head was hanging low to hide his face, and his cheeks burned crimson with embarrassment. Garret too was looking at Ashton with pity on his face. Meeting eyes with his twin, Garret gave Seth a questioning glance. Both brothers knew their friend was uncomfortable, but neither of them had any idea what they could do about it.

The door to the kitchen burst open then, and all three of the boys looked up in anticipation. Through the door came the Barkeep, head held high scanning the room, his gaze lost among his patrons before landing on the Boys at his bar. In each arm he carried a tray. Upon one tray rested three plates, the other bore three mugs. He gingerly sat the plates in front of the boys, scanning their faces to see their responses. The boys eyed the food hungrily. Upon each plate was what appeared to be a small pie, as well as a large pastry. The mugs, the innkeeper told them as he passed them out, were filled with warm, spiced cider. The trio each in turn thanked the innkeeper for his hospitality and graciousness. He nodded in response to them happily, and scanned the crowd again with his eyes, all the while telling the boys if they wanted a room again this night they could have it at half price. They thanked him again but declined his offer.

“You boys seem to have made this a popular place this morning,” the barkeep stated. “If you would like, why don’t you go have your food on the front porch? People are less likely to stop in the middle of the street to stare at you there.” He spoke the last sentence much louder than he needed to, as if to convey the message to the whole room.

Ashton, all too happy to take the man’s advice, stood up immediately thus making the twins’ decision for them. They all three slung their packs on their shoulders and snatched up their plates and mugs. The barkeep watched them knowingly, and told them that they could just leave the plates and cups on the porch when they were finished as he would collect them later. They all nodded to him in thanks, then turned and headed for the door.

The boys sat upon the top step of the porch facing the street as they ate. A couple of people passed them by, hardly giving them a second glance as they went about their business. The small pies, as it turned out, were just that. However, unlike any of the pies Seth had ever had before, these were filled with eggs, meat and cheese. They were delicious and filling, but nothing compared to the warm pastries. Obviously freshly baked, these were coated in a delicious syrup-like frosting and filled with a cut medley of sweet fruits.

The three friends sat back on their elbows, enjoying their full stomachs and the sun’s warmth. The street was fairly quiet, except for a few voices from the small shops and stalls nearby. Occasionally someone would come down the road and disappear into the brothel across the street. Seth couldn’t help but notice that Garret still watched it longingly, just as he had the night before, observing the building silently. Turning his gaze from his brother, Seth too began admiring the red curtains that hung in each and every window, playing with ideas as to what might be happening behind them at this very moment. It was an enticing daydream he was having when it was suddenly interrupted by the muffled scream of a woman. The scream was then followed by the deeper, hate-filled yells of a man. Though none of the boys could make out he words, each of them now followed the sounds with their eyes. The screams and yells seemed to go back and forth between the woman and man, and seemed to be making their way across the building. The boys continued to trace the sounds, as much with their eyes as their ears as each of them sat upon the step of the inn, looking at the door opposite them. The yells had stopped moving at this point, going back and forth from man to woman just behind the door.

The man roared something, which was replied to by a scream from the woman and followed shortly by a loud thud against the inside of the brothel door. At this sound the boys all stood, making their way to the bottom of the steps, still staring at the door across from them, their heads all tilted in an effort to hear better. Something, they knew, had just gone horribly wrong inside the building. The cries stopped altogether. Seth was walking slowly across the street to listen better when the brothel door swung slowly open. From it a figure appeared. It was the woman. She was small, almost fragile looking, and young as well. She stumbled out of the door, leaving it open. Her long black hair trailing behind her, her hands rose to wipe the tears and blood from her face. Seth continued to cross the street unsure of what, if anything, he could do to help her. She seemed not to notice his approach, instead she looked back defiantly towards the open door she had emerged from.

The man’s yell came again from inside.

“You get back here girl!” the voice yelled in rage. “I own you.”

The small woman’s face crumpled, no longer holding a look of defiance. Her features twisted, the confidence that was evident before now replaced with defeat. She stumbled again as if dizzy, and took another step, only this time it was in the direction of the brothel, as if she would indeed return. She stopped then, dead in her tracks, as the man who had been yelling came to stand in the doorway.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he mocked her. “You get back in here and clean up this mess you left on the back of my door.” He pointed to where her blood smeared wetly down the wooden surface.

It was then that Seth recognized the man. They had seen him the night before and watched him leave the inn, drunk, after bludgeoning another man nearly to death with a bar stool. It was John.

The large man stepped out into the street, his eyes on the girl, a short steel rod in his hand.

“You get your ass back in here,” John snarled at the girl, “or I’ll drag your lifeless body back in!” He continued hurling threats at her as he slowly staggered out of the door into the street.

Without thinking, Seth raced the short distance between him and the girl, coming to a stop beside her. He glanced at her pain-stricken face, and took the last few steps to place himself between her and the man that had attacked her. Looking John in the face, eye to eye, Seth reached down and pulled his sword halfway from its sheath, revealing to the man its deadly blade. John appraised Seth, and seeming to decide he wasn’t a big enough threat, continued towards him, raising the steel rod in his hand. The distance closed between them. Seth was certain he would have to fight. He pulled the wicked blade from its scabbard, testing its weight, and lifted it to defend himself.

It was then John stopped in his tracks, looking at Seth, then past him, then back to Seth. Absently, Seth noted Garret approaching to stand beside him, his giant broadsword in his hands. He stopped at his twin’s side and let his sword rest point down on the stone paved road, daring John to come closer, a smile on his face. John eyed them nervously now, uncertain if he could take the two of them at once. Unwilling to admit defeat, John once again turned his gaze on the girl.

“Fine then!” he yelled at her over the twins’ shoulders. “Go to Valdadore, without clothes, without food, without a single copper coin to your name. Maybe you can find a special way to repay your new friends here for their kindness. Mark my words, girl, you are nothing more than a whore, just like your pathetic mother! You'll be back begging when these boys are no longer amused by you!” With that last statement John spat on the ground and then turned and stalked unevenly back into the brothel, slamming the door behind him.

The slam of the door was all the girl could take apparently. Her knees gave out and she crumpled to the stone road, sobbing heavily. Blood tinted tears ran through her fingers as she cried, covering her face, ashamed of her weakness. The twins sheathed their swords and came to stand beside her. Ashton joined them, nodding his approval to the twins. They each looked to one another unsure of what to do.

It was Seth, like before, who acted first. He knelt down beside the girl, and wrapped his arms around her, hugging her tightly. At first she struggled as if to break free, then raising her eyes to look at him and noticing something in his face, she stopped struggling and dropped her head against his chest, still sobbing.

“Everything is going to be OK,” Seth whispered into her hair, over and over again.

Slowly, either from exhaustion or something else, her sobs eased and her breathing no longer came in gasps. She still trembled slightly in Seth’s arms, but slowly she regained her composure and stopped crying.

Seth relaxed his grip on her, afraid he might be making her uncomfortable, and as he relaxed, her body shook as if with chill. It was then he noticed her clothes. She wore a threadbare, tight fitting shirt, accompanied by a short pleated skirt. Hardly the clothes someone should be wearing with winter approaching. Even with the sun shining as it was, the air was still cool. Her body no longer shook in his arms and he looked down to see if she had perhaps cried herself to sleep. Instead he found her looking up at his face again and it appeared at least that her bleeding had already stopped. She had noticed him eying her clothes, and a look of fear was on her face as she spoke.

“John was right, you know.” Her voice, almost angelic, came as whispers to Seth’s ears.

Seth gave her a puzzled look, not knowing at all what she meant. Fortunately, she took his look for what it was and explained herself.

“I don’t own anything. I have no money, I
can’t
leave.” Her shoulders slumped and again her eyes brimmed with moisture as if to start crying all over again. Through her pain she continued talking, barely whispering, refusing to let the tears escape again. “I won’t make it far on nothing. Maybe if I apologize to him he will let me stay. I can work off my mother’s debt and then save to go my own way.” She spoke now more to herself then to Seth, but he caught the meaning of her words.

She would be willing to make a slave of herself to the abusive, violent drunk, probably selling her body, to repay a debt she did not owe. Just the thought of her small body being ravaged by old, drunken men put knots in Seth’s stomach. She was so small, so helpless; he
had
to do something. He looked to his brother and Ashton, who had both noticed that the girl had spoken but had not heard her words. Seth spoke to them, at the same time as speaking to the girl.

“We can take you with us if you want,” he offered to the girl in his arms, while giving the other boys a pleading look. “We are headed to The Choosing at Valdadore castle. We don’t have a lot of money, but I think we should still have enough if you join us. Don’t worry about anything, we will help you.” Seth said all this to the girl, but his eyes remained on his brother and Ashton.

Garret nodded once and shrugged his shoulders, telling Seth that he would agree if Seth thought it best. Ashton simply bobbed his head up and down several times happily. The girl once again looked up from Seth’s chest, tilting her head back at an odd angle to look in his eyes. He saw then a glint in her eyes that he had not seen before. Seth knew at once it was hope, the hope for a new beginning that shone in her eyes. As soon as the look arose, however, it was gone, replaced by a look of self-pity. She made a move as if to get up and Seth willingly let her go. She spun as she stood to face the three of them, and took a deep breath to steady herself.