The Godling Chronicles 02 - Of Gods And Elves (37 page)

Gewey remembered the assassin and the hatred in his
eyes.

“
War is upon us,” Linis continued. “And
this time the victor will shape the future for both races. Even the
most reluctant elf knows this. When you face Eftichis in the morning,
you are fighting for more than just you and Kaylia. Your victory will
see that your voice is heard by all elves. Many think humans weak and
without honor. Tomorrow you will show them differently.”

“
But I'm not human,” argued Gewey. “Not
really.”

“
That may be,” Linis countered. “But
you were raised as one. You have their values, and you are what is
best in men. The strength I speak of has nothing to do with a sword,
though admittedly it helps. That you have the courage to face the
elders of my people and speak your mind, shows the rest true power.
That you fight for the bond between you and Kaylia shows that you
will not be deterred, and should be treated with respect.” He
placed his hand on Gewey's shoulder. “Tomorrow is about more
than the
pudnaris
. By
striking down those who would challenge your rights, you send a
message that will echo throughout all the elf nations.”

Gewey's face twisted into a sour frown. “Thanks.
Nothing like a bit of pressure just before a life and death
struggle.”

Linis chuckled. “I think you can handle it. But
sleep now. I will keep watch.”

“
For what?” Gewey began to remove his
clothes.

“
Who knows?” Linis replied and dimmed the
light.

Gewey lay down on his bed and closed his eyes. At first
he tried to calm his mind and sleep but soon realized that would not
happen. He decided to reach out to Kaylia, hoping that Theopolou
wasn't able to block him, though he couldn't imagine why he would. To
his relief he found her. As their spirits became one, his body
relaxed and he became lost in the sheer emotion.

Is this what it will be like after we're completely
joined
? he asked.

It will be better
, replied
Kaylia.
Much better
.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Yanti lounged in his cabin aboard the Moon Shadow. It
was sturdy, as river vessels go, though not as lavish as he would
have liked, but the wine was good and the food passable. It had taken
them quite some time to navigate the delta and enter the Goodbranch
River. Pushing against the wind and current with oars made for slow
progress.

Fortunately, he was in no hurry. Plans were already in
motion, and his direct intervention was no longer necessary... as
least for now. There was a soft rap at the door. He took a sip of
brandy and got to his feet.

“
Enter.”

The door opened and Braydon, the first mate, timidly
stepped inside. “Beg your pardon, my lord.”

“
What is it?” Yanti asked, irritably. He did
not care much for midday interruptions.

“
A small craft has pulled alongside.” A bead
of perspiration appeared on Braydon’s brow. “Says he has
a message for you.”

Yanti furled his brow. “Did he give his name?”

“
No, my lord,” Braydon replied. “But I
don't like the looks of 'im....all covered in black, and all. He
smells foul too. Like death. And his voice, he hisses more than
speaks, he does.”

“
Let him board and bring him to me. And be quick.”

Braydon bowed awkwardly and hurried off.

A few minutes later, the door swung open and there stood
the figure of a man, covered in a long black cloak. His face was
hidden and Yanti could hear a slow growl coming from beneath the
hood. Braydon stood just behind, his face pale and fearful.

“
You may go,” said Yanti to the first mate,
who eagerly obliged. The door slammed shut and Yanti took a seat,
crossing his legs in his usual aristocratic fashion. “To what
do I owe the pleasure of a visit from the Vrykol? I assume our Lord
knows you are here.”

“
He knows,” the Vrykol hissed. “He
knows much. He knows of your plans and is unhappy. They will not
succeed.”

Yanti cracked a smile. “Unhappy you say... I see.
Well, my pungent friend, we shall see how unhappy he is when I
deliver the
godling
to
him, as well as his elf mate.” He picked up his brandy and held
it under his nose for a moment. “All is in order, I assure you.
Oh, and he can look to have Lee Starfinder among the converted, as
well.”

“
The Great Lord is not so optimistic,” said
the Vrykol. “He foresees... problems.”

“
What kind of problems?” Yanti tried to
conceal his concerns.

The Vrykol reached inside his robes and withdrew a
sealed letter. Yanti took it, doing his best not to touch the Vrykol.

“
By the by,” Yanti remarked. “A bit
bold of you to be out in the open, don't you think?”

The Vrykol gurgled with grotesque laughter. “The
Master has perfected us. Only a few mindless beasts still roam.
Humans fear us and choose what they see or don't see.”

“
Then I can look forward to more visits, I take
it,” said Yanti.

“
No,” replied the Vrykol. “I will stay
with you... until the end.”

Yanti scowled. “Then I hope your kind can bathe.”
He opened the letter, reading it carefully. “Wait here.”
He stuffed the letter inside his jacket and threw open the door.
Yanti made his way on deck and found the captain busy navigating the
river. The sun was high in the sky and there was a winter chill in
the air, despite the fact that they were still far south. His
master’s doing.

“
Pull along the bank and retrieve my horse from
the hold,” Yanti ordered as he strode up. “I'll be
getting off here.”

Captain Tarn, a stout, broad-shouldered man, didn't take
his eyes off the river. Unlike the first mate, he was clearly not
intimidated by Yanti. “Not here,” he said gruffly. Too
dangerous.”

“
Here,” Yanti demanded. “Now.”
Tarn ignored him.

Yanti turned and sought out the first mate. He found him
in the galley, eating a bowl of fish stew.

“
Can you pilot this vessel?” asked Yanti.

“
Aye,” Braydon replied. “As well as
the skipper, I'd say.”

“
Good,” said Yanti. “Come with me.”

Confused, the first mate pushed his bowl away and chased
after Yanti, who was already on his way back on deck. The moment the
captain came into view, Yanti drew a small dagger. Before Braydon
could utter a protest, Yanti hurled the blade. The captain's eye shot
wide as the knife stuck in his throat. He grabbed at the knife,
falling to his knees. He let out a gurgling groan as blood poured
from his throat and mouth. Yanti slowly walked over and with one
strong kick, sent the man crashing through the railing and into the
river. Three sailors stepped forward, but backed away when Yanti drew
his sword.

“
You are promoted.” Yanti smiled as if
nothing had happened. “Now land on the bank and retrieve my
horse from the hold.”

Braydon gaped in stunned silence. Yanti snapped his
fingers, bringing the first mate out of his stupor.

“
Get to it,” Yanti ordered.

Braydon grabbed the wheel and carefully guided the boat
to the western bank, while one of the deck hands retrieved Yanti's
horse from below.

Yanti returned to his cabin and gathered his belongings.
The Vrykol stood patiently in the corner.

“
I hope you don't mind walking,” said Yanti,
feigning concern. “We have far to go.”

The Vrykol made no response and followed Yanti topside.
The gangplank had been lowered though it did not quite reach the
shore.

“
This is as close as we could get without running
aground, my lord,” Braydon explained, his voice filled with
trepidation.

Yanti looked at the first mate for a long moment. Then
turned and stowed his belongings on his saddle. The Vrykol leaped to
the shore with unworldly strength, bringing gasps and murmurs from
the crew.

“
If I were you, I would forget you ever saw me...
or my companion.” Yanti mounted his horse. He reached in the
pouch on his belt and held up a silver coin. “Do we understand
each other?”

“
I... I understand,” replied Braydon,
trembling.

Yanti tossed the first mate the coin and urged his horse
down the gangplank. He cursed as water drenched his boots. He
considered killing the first mate for a moment, but dismissed the
idea. Braydon had already ordered his men to pull up the plank and
shove off.

“
I know your kind are fast,” Yanti said to
the waiting Vrykol. “You will need to be.” He spurred his
horse west into a dead run, not bothering to see if the Vrykol was
following. He knew the creature was not far behind.

He reached into his jacket and touched the letter. He
would not allow his plans to fail... even if it meant that the
godling
had to die.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

“
It is time,” said Linis.

Gewey opened his eyes slowly, allowing the connection
with Kaylia to slip away. He felt rested and strong. The echo of
Kaylia’s final thought rang through his mind.
I'm
with you... always
. He sat up, swung his legs
over the side of the bed, and stretched.

“
I've laid out your clothes.” Linis nodded
to the corner. “I've chosen soft leather for you. It will allow
you to move freely, while giving you some protection.”

Gewey smiled. “Thank you.” He rose to his
feet and dressed. As he attached his sword to his belt, Theopolou
entered. Akakios followed just behind.

“
I will be awaiting you in the Chamber,”
said Theopolou. His eyes were somber, and for the first time Gewey
noticed age on his face creeping in. “You should wait here for
only a few minutes after I leave. I am told Eftichis is already
there.”

Gewey's lips tightened. His connection with Kaylia had
released the stress of the coming fight, but the mention of his
opponents name brought it flooding back. “I'll be there. Is
Felsafell with you? ”

“
No,” Theopolou replied. “He was
already gone when I went to his room.” Before Gewey could
reply, Theopolou and Akakios bowed and left.

Gewey took a deep breath and squared his shoulders.

“
Remember why you fight,” said Linis. “And
remember what you are. To face you is to face death.”

This stabbed at Gewey. He knew it was true. Since
leaving his small village, death had become a part of his existence.
He had killed... many times. Now he was to kill again. Once more he
would be the bringer of death. He steeled his wits.
So
be it
.

Linis looked Gewey over for a moment. “Good. You
have the same look in your eyes as Lee did, just before he fought
Berathis.”

Gewey checked his sword and made his way to the door. “I
know what I must do.” With that, he pushed back the flap and
made his way to the main hall.

After only a few minutes Gewey decided he had waited
long enough and left the tent. The chill of the morning air washed
over him. He filled his lungs and surveyed his surroundings. The camp
was quiet. Only a few scattered elves roamed about. Gewey guessed
that most were waiting in the Chamber of the Maker to witness the
pudnaris
. The
stillness made him shiver.

As he made his way to the Chamber, the few elves he
encountered stared at him, not with hatred as he would have thought,
but in wonder.

“
Why are they looking at me like that?”
Gewey asked.

“
They marvel at your courage,” Linis
replied. “I imagine most thought you would flee.”

“
Perhaps I should,” Gewey joked. “Maybe
I should just grab Kaylia and head east.”

“
I wish that were possible, my friend. If it were,
I might even come with you.”

“
I doubt that very much,” said Gewey, with a
laugh.

The Chamber of the Maker was no less impressive by day.
In fact the light of the morning sun caused it to glow even brighter.
As they approached, the rumble of the crowd grew more intense. Gewey
dreaded the silence his arrival would cause. His heart pounded in
anticipation. Just as he reached the entrance, he spotted Felsafell,
leaning lazily against the statue base. He was dressed in his
customary skins and carried his gnarled walking stick.

“
I see you come,” said Felsafell. “I
see you go.”

“
Aren't you coming inside?” asked Gewey.

“
I care not for fighting,” he replied. “No,
indeed. When the young fights the younger... sadness only... sadness
and pain. I wish not to see such things, oh, no.”

“
Then you are leaving?” asked Linis.

“
For now,” answered Felsafell. He took a few
steps forward. “We'll meet soon enough. Again and again, I
think.”

“
You know more than you're saying,” said
Gewey.