One (The Godslayer Cycle Book 1) (44 page)

Alsen, on the other hand, was far less at ease, especially with the presence of the two newcomers.  The dwarf had been more or less  expected; the larger man had not.  Lady Brea had gone up the trail specifically to convince the dwarf to come out of hiding, but both he and Derik had been assured that it had only been the dwarf up there.  That there was another man altogether, one that none of them had been aware of, was somewhat unsettling.  Brea had clearly lied to them – that or her Goddess had lied to her – about the man's presence.  Neither possibility settled well with the young mercenary.

Worse still, none of them seemed overly concerned by Derik's state.  By the time Brea had returned leading the two strangers, Derik had soiled himself and reeked of the excrement filling his trousers.  And though Alsen held great brotherly affection for his elder brother, cleaning the grown man as though he were a babe was not something he relished doing.  Consequently, he had simply sent the man to bed – like the babe he clearly now was. 

And so Alsen stood across the campsite, at the edge of the light.  Though he made as though he were on watch, he clearly was not doing an apt job of it since his back was not turned toward the fire.  He intended to keep an eye upon these three, and the distance's only purpose was to give them no fast advantage should they decide to turn upon him.

The dwarf, Bracken by name apparently, did not appear any more at ease than Alsen, though.  The dwarf, though he stood close to the other two by the campfire, had yet to sit, or lay his axe to rest.  Alsen did not have any personal experience with dwarves, but it seemed to him that the dwarf was both angry and unsettled.  And from the stories he had heard, this was not a good combination in a dwarf.  Dwarves were well known for their volatility, and this one most certainly appeared volatile.

The man, Nathaniel, seemed calmer, though his face reflected more stoicism than calm.  He seemed to be wrestling with his own inner demons, and had the look of one who had not yet made up his mind about whether the demons required an outward display of anger.  He certainly did not carry himself like a warrior, and in fact did not even have the simplest of armor on him, yet he carried two swords, one sheathed across his back and the other he carried by the sheath as he entered camp.  True, he had set this second one down, but he had not moved far from it so it remained within easy reach.  This alone suggested that the weapon was one he would not hesitate to use if he needed to.

And then of course there was Brea.  The Lady Brea.  The traitorous.  The one who had cursed his brother for speaking his mind.  Perhaps his brother could be temperamental and, truth be told, a little arrogant and rude at times, but nothing that had deserved the level of penance she had cast down upon him.  Inwardly, Alsen raged, yet he dared not show his fury to the priestess for fear that she would do worse to him.  Despite his mistrust of the strangers, his distrust of his female companion was great enough that he felt some degree of loyalty that he should be warning the two strangers against her.  But fear was an effective muzzle, and he remained as civil as he could manage towards the three that now shared his camp.

For some time, the three had walked around, preparing to set up camp, doing all the menial chores one needed to do in order to settle into a place for the night.  Barely a word was exchanged between them as they did so, but it was clear that some great unspoken matter hung in the air between them.  Even now, though they had been settled around the fire for some time, still none yet had broken the silence of whatever the matter was that lay between them.

There had been a battle of some sort, that much could be gleaned easily enough.  Even had the sounds of battle and screaming not drifted down the way, the ragged condition of at least two of them made it clear to Alsen's battle-hardened senses.  The two men were covered in blood, some splattered, some copious in amount, most notable upon the back calf of the dwarf.  Had Alsen been one to guess purely upon the angle of blood and amounts, he would have assumed that the dwarf had had the tendons, or perhaps the back calf muscle, on his right leg severed.  There was certainly enough blood for it.  And yet the dwarf walked with nary a hesitation that suggested a wound.  Of course, Brea was a priestess and such were well known for their healing magics, but still it was an amazing thing to see such crippling damage healed within such a short span of time.

Brea took a deep breath and let it out in a sigh, breaking the heavy silence.  Alsen perked his ears up to hear what would be said, balancing it in his mind over what he should do should he need to take measures to protect himself.

“It is clear that we need answers,” Brea began.

Bracken guffawed in response, but said nothing else.

Brea knitted her brow in consternation, but continued as though she had not been interrupted.  “I believe there is something far greater going on than any of us knows.  I think we are all acting and reacting, but I don't believe any of us know what we are acting or reacting to.”

“
I think the Old Gods have been pretty clear in their directions,” inserted Nathaniel.  “Go here, do this.  And they
seem
to be willing to answer any question put to them when I ask...”

“
That, of course, implies that you are asking the right questions,” Brea interjected.

Nathaniel thought on this a moment, and nodded.  “They are Gods, I suppose,” he said.

Brea nodded in return.  “And clearly they are playing a game that to them is greatly important, but places us as little more than pawns upon a board.  I think it is time for us to see if we can improve our power on that board before we find ourselves removed from it altogether.”

Nathaniel cocked his head, raising an eyebrow.  “What would you suggest?”

“First, we need to tell each other everything so we know where we each stand.  If we have secrets, we cannot be expected to act together against any of the Gods, old or new.”

Nathaniel stiffened.  “Forgive me, Lady, but I think that would be foolish.  You are still in communion with your Goddess, and if I disclose anything to you, your Goddess will know instantly.  Regardless of the motives or reasons behind this 'game', as you call it, I do hold in the belief that what I am about, what I have been tasked to do, is hidden from the New Order, and it seems more to my advantage to keep it that way.”

Brea scowled.  “It does not work that way, Nathan,” she said with forced patience.  “My Goddess does not get to read my mind whenever she wants to.  It would violate the free will doctrine...”

“
The what?”

Brea smiled.  “Theology.  Sorry.  The free will doctrine is part of the pact between Gods and mortals.  It says that mortals have the freedom of will to choose to which God, or to no God if that is their will, to serve.  If a God could simply enter a mortal's mind, he or she could govern that mortal's choices.  It is strictly forbidden...”

“Is it not forbidden for the Goddess of Truth to deceive?”  Nathaniel interupted.

Brea paused, considering.  “We have no specific proof she has lied, only –
possibly
– misdirected us.  Truthfully, she did not tell me that she was going to have your wife attacked, nor told me that she was sending me to Scollhaven for any other reason than to seek out information on the false-God, Avery.  That much has proven true – there was someone in these parts calling himself Avery, the God of Vengeance, after all.  He left his hand behind for you as a reminder, as I recall.”

Bracken guffawed again.  “Peas fer pods, lady,” he grumped.  “Don' matter none if she tol' ya the truth straight or sent ya off so's ya woul' na ask.  Means she's playin' ya, and us to boot, eit'er way.  An' from where I stan', I see's tha' as somethin' o' a lie, e'en one o' silence.”

Nathaniel nodded.  “A lie of misdirection is still a lie.  If Imery sent you here and did not tell you the real reason she sent you away when she did, regardless of whether what she did tell you was true, it is still a deception.  And to me, that is a lie.  From a Goddess of Truth, that seems to me something of a taboo...”

Brea sighed again.  “As I said, it is a matter of somatics – the question is not what she did, but how it is justified within the fine points of her office.”  In response to the stern looks she got from both men, she threw up her hands to stay their arguments.  “I know, I know.  Perspective and theology.  There are reasons there are men who sequester themselves away their entire lives to study subjects such as these.

“Irregardless, it does seem that Imery has been manipulating me.  And this does not sit well with me, either as one of her faithful or as her priestess.  However,” and at this Brea looked boldly into Nathaniel's eyes in challenge, “I am at a loss as to how you would suggest we handle this.  It is not as simple as scolding a child.  This is a
God
we are talking about – you cannot simply punish a Goddess by putting her over your knee and spanking her.  How would you suggest either convincing a God, first, that she was wrong, and second, how to see her censured for her misconduct?”

Nathaniel barely paused before sitting up straight to face the challenge.  “I believe I have the means to make certain she would never do this to anyone again,” he said boldly.  Looking down, he reached for his newly acquired sword.  Avery had called the sword by name – he had called it
One
.  Avery had also seemed to know his own sword, if he had interpreted the madman's words properly – the would-be-God had called Nathaniel's sword
First
.

As he picked up Avery's sword, he could feel the emanations from within the sword, almost a pulse that he could barely sense as it entered his palm.  And in that resonance, the names somehow seemed right and proper.  The swords did have names, and they did, it seemed, have presences.  He could feel the difference between his own sword and Avery's, as though some inexplicable sense he could not define could see a difference, as his eyes might have distinguished between two peoples' faces.  However, he could now also feel anger pulsing from within Avery's blade.  Emotion he had never sensed at all from within his own, and that Avery's not only felt it but radiated it more than disturbed him a little.

“Avery's sword seemed to have gifted him with his faux-God abilities,” Nathaniel premised.  “If his invisibility was from the sword...”  At this, Nathaniel drew
One
from its sheath and immediately disappeared himself.  Brea and Bracken were on their feet at once, looking about for their vanished friend. 

“
It's alright,” came Nathan's disembodied voice.  “I'm here.”  At this, Nathaniel reappeared in the same position he had been in when he had vanished, brandishing the sword in front of him as he looked closely at the intricate runes engraved into the blade.  “It seems it's simply a matter of wanting it,” he remarked calmly.

“
Ya migh' warn a soul 'for ya decide ta up an' vanish on 'em,” Bracken burst out.

Nathaniel looked up from his observations.  “Yeah, sorry about that,” he said sheepishly.  Recovering, Nathaniel turned to Brea.  “You say Imery comes to you.  Can you summon her?”

Brea was taken aback.  “You want me to summon my Goddess?  Are you mad?  Assuming she would even come if I prayed for her to, what do you intend to do?  She is a God!”

Nathaniel's eyes hardened.  “Imery is the one who ordered my wife slain and my son abducted.  She is the one who sent you off as a distraction to lead us away from wherever they have taken Geoffrey.  She also knew about Avery, something I have been led to believe even the Old Gods did not know about.  Now, I am not saying that Imery set Avery up as a distraction, but she seems possessed of knowledge that she should not have.  It seems to me that if any have the answers we seek, it would be with her.”

Brea paused, considering her words carefully.  “This is a God, Nathan.  This is not her servant, or a man pretending to be a God.  This is a
God
.  You cannot simply command her to...”

Nathaniel lost his patience.  “Just summon her.  Let me consider the rest!”

Brea stared hard back at the tall man, but in the end, it was clear Nathaniel could not be talked out of this.  With a resigned sigh, she nodded.  “As you will,” she said simply.  With those words, Brea moved to sit by the fire, staring into the flames that had so recently been the gateway by which her Goddess had appeared to her.

As Brea sought to meditate upon summoning her Goddess, Nathaniel turned to Bracken.  “I know this is dangerous.  I am not a fool.  But we need answers...”

Bracken only reached up, took Nathaniel's arm in his hand, and nodded gravely.  There was no need for further words.

Nathaniel nodded in return and, with a glance over his shoulder at the other mercenary keeping watch at the perimeter of the camp, he vanished.

Brea meanwhile struggled to find the medium through which she could reach out to her Goddess.  Normally, meditation was simple for her.  Yet between the inner doubts and struggles of her faith which she had recently been wrestling with, and the knowledge that she was trying to summon her Goddess to answer for crimes she was not convinced any of them had the right or power to hold her accountable for, her peaceful center was simply out of reach.

It therefore came as a great surprise to Brea when only a matter of minutes into her meditation that  Imery's face did appear in the fire, after all.