Duty Calls: The Reluctant War God Book 1 (2 page)

“Oh, aren’t you the precious little pansy? You call us blood thirsty, what about you? I’d say we couldn’t catch up with your death count if we slaughtered from now till doomsday.”

I smiled. “You’re probably right. I won’t argue the point. The thing is I don’t do that anymore. Humanity doesn’t need a war god to spur them on to destruction. They do well enough on their own. They don’t need us for anything.”

Yond spat on the floor. Disgusting pig that he was. “What would they be without the gods?”

“I dunno, maybe happier and less psychotic?”

“They’d be gone. Creation dies with the death of the creator. It would all fade away. We’d be back to nothingness, all of creation destroyed in a wave of chaos.”

“Again, yeah, that’s the line dad told us. I’m not sure what we’d be back to. I’m not sure he had anything to do with the creation of man. To hear him talk about the old days, it was a nightmare. Forming himself out of pure potential, carving hunks out of his own flesh to create mom so he wouldn’t have to jerk off anymore—although that’s how the Milky Way came to be. But dad has always been one of those ‘barefoot in the snow—uphill both ways to school’ types. I imagine the truth was somewhat less severe.”

Yond sat back in his chair and shook his head. “Listen to yourself. You don’t make a decent man, much less a god. You sit and philosophize to your cups when you have the power to lead empires. Our family is at risk and here you sit. Do you have no honor?”

I shook my head. “Clumsy, brother, was that supposed to infuriate me? Why should I care if you think I’m dishonorable? I have no respect for you whatsoever. Your opinion of me is meaningless.”

He laughed. “You’re a coward. I never realized it until today. But you are actually afraid to fight.”

“Right you are. I sit alone in the dark on long nights quivering with fear I might end my thousands of years of meaningless idle existence.”

“If you don’t care about your family, or your honor, perhaps you will care about your precious mortals.”

“Are you threatening to slaughter entire races? It’s been done. I’ve done it. It’s exactly the sort of thing that ensures I’ll never help the gods again.”

“Oh no, not me. There is a being with true power at the heart of this new religion. It calls itself Jegu. He’s the real thing. Father truly fears this new religion. If it continues to grow, it will consume us all—humans and gods alike.”

“Sounds serious.”

“Humph, well how about you take a look and see what it’s doing? Then we will see how cocky you are.”

My brother opened his vision to me. I moved my mind forward into his and I saw a battlefield. Warriors marched forward cutting down their opponents like wheat. They bore the standard of a red “X”. In the wake of the advance, priests dressed in virginal white robes walked forward, slinging the dead and dying with holy water, praying with their hands outstretched to their god.

“Look deeper, brother. Look behind the veil into the core of reality.”

As my brother spoke, I peered more deeply, beyond the illusionary visual reality of the physical into the realm of energy and space-time where my kind roamed at will. There, the priests advanced, their bodies revealed as mere vessels for an energy that drank the very souls of the dying. Souls harvested and thwarted from continuing their journey to the next plane.

A horde of death angels at the edge of the battlefield fought against some barrier of will which prevented from collecting the souls and leading them onward to their mysterious destinations. The angels moaned in frustration as they fought to reach the dead.

Ghostly wisps of energy leaked from the fresh corpses, pulled back by the line of priests and directed toward a litter carried by six blinded slaves. Upon the litter rested their holy of holies, a reliquary of some sort, what it contained, I had no idea, but I sensed a living presence there. Whatever resided in the reliquary feasted. The dark god was consuming each soul. It was a creature so powerful it made my mind ache to perceive it.

As each soul was consumed, the appointed death angel faded, screaming in their failure to complete their destiny.

I recoiled from the image, screaming. When I opened my eyes, the Inn was silent. All those around us had stopped their reveling and were staring at our table.

“What in hell was that?”

Yond smiled smugly. “That, my brother, is Jegu. It will eventually rule every realm of the universe if we don’t do something to stop it.”

I was shaken. The gods had killed, true. They had set peoples against each other and wagered on their lives as if it were some cosmic game. Death was one thing, but this was worse. Never had the gods taken from men that one thing belonging to all creatures of free will—their souls. Wise as the gods appeared to man, even the gods didn’t know the destiny of a human soul. The land of the dead was a mystery. But no matter the secret of eternity, to destroy a soul was an abomination.

Yond waved his hands. “Now, you have seen the enemy and you can either sit here and play your precious lyre and collect coppers for your beer or you can take up your godhood and build armies to fight back…”

Evil as it seemed. I have been fooled too many times into righteous anger only to regret it later. I shook my head.

“Never again. I’ll not take up the Bright Sword.”

“Listen,” Yond said. “I didn’t make the rules, but without you wielding your sword the gods are weaker. What good are our powers without blade to focus them? Will the Goddess of Love give the enemy crotch rot? How many bolts of lighting can I throw without burning out? We can’t possibly defeat this thing unless we have the God of War with us. You are the vessel for destruction, it’s how things are and have always been. It would be suicide for us to try without you.”

“Mortals have done the same for us. Perhaps it’s your turn,” I said.

“What happened to you? What have you become? This pitiful existence you’ve exiled yourself to makes no sense.”

I sighed. “I’m sure it doesn’t make any sense to you. I’ve become more by giving up my godhood than you could ever imagine. The longer I am away from it, the greater my empathy, the greater my shame at my hubris, the more I finally understand the truth. All it would take is for me to reach out with my right hand and touch the hilt of that damned sword and I would forget all I’ve learned. All I’d care about would be destruction. I’d become a mindless conduit of power and a tool for vengeance.”

Yond rolled his eyes. “You could go back to the way you were after the crisis passes. You can come back to this shit-hole and rot for all I care. This would just be for this one battle. We can’t stand up to Jegu alone, we’d be no match. But through you our power would multiply. Nothing can stand against us.”

“I don’t know if that’s true or not. It might make no difference whatsoever.” I shuddered, remembering the scene I’d witnessed through Yond’s eyes. Jegu possessed raw power of a sort I’d only sensed at the faint edges of creation. What were the limits of such power? How did it come about.

I shared my thoughts. “The question I have is where did Jegu come from?”

“Who knows?” Yond answered, throwing his hands up. “There are things out there none of us understand. Dad says he doesn’t know. None of us know anything about it.”

I studied him carefully. He was a shifty one, my brother, but I could always read him better than he liked. He wasn’t telling me something. I could sense it. “Tell me the rest.”

“What do you mean?” he asked, but he didn’t meet my eye.

“You have never been a good liar, Yond. Intrigue doesn’t suit you. You’re leaving out how this creature came to be. There is some deception here. I can sense it. You know something even if father and the rest don’t.”

“What does it matter? You saw the truth of the danger. Is your cowardice still ruling your actions?”

I looked him in the eye and I gave him a piece of my stare. From the way he flinched, I knew I still had the mojo. “It matters to me because I don’t trust you. You’ve never done a decent thing in your thousands of years of life. Where did this cursed thing come from?”

Yond swore and pounded the table. Lightning struck the roof and shattered a portion of it. People screamed and ran for cover. A rush of wind blew through the inn and extinguished the lanterns.

In a moment it was over. The inn was empty except for the two of us. My brother and I sat directly under where the bolt had struck. Rain now fell upon us through the rafters. He rose tall and revealed his divinity to all looked upon him. The only light in the room now came from Yond’s fiery halo and his glowing eyes as he loomed over me.

“Why should it matter to you? Don’t you want to protect the mortals? You forsook your godhead for them. You couldn’t even do your duty as a war god because you didn’t like seeing them kill each other. The world is out of control and you can’t be bothered to do anything about it!” His voice echoed as if a mountain were speaking.

Humpf. Wasn’t impressed. However, I was getting wet from the new hole in the roof and cold from the draft, and more than that, I think someone stepped on my lyre.

“The only thing out of control right now, is you. I will do what I can, short of brandishing the weapons of my office, but not because you threatened, insulted or inspired me. I will do it to save the souls of the mortals. But first, let me tell you a few simple facts that may be helpful to you in the future.” I stood up and faced him nose to nose.

To those in the room, I suppose it looked comical. A scruffy bard standing up to a being of obviously divine power. It got funnier when I wasn’t the one who blinked.

“One,” I said, counting off on my fingers. “I don’t like you. I’ve never liked you and I will never like you. You’ve never made any secret of your disdain for me as well, and your envy of my power as war god. You’re a dangerous, spoiled child who likes to play with fire.

“Two—I am
not
one of you. I was once a part of your vicious breed, but I opted out a long time ago. I made my choice and I’m sticking to it. The best thing that could ever happen to this universe is if you all just go away.

“And three—Don’t ever threaten me. Never forget I can kick your ass any day of the week. Your little joy buzzer tricks don’t impress me. The difference between us is I choose not to abuse my power by using it to dominate others.”

He stood there on the verge of saying something, but the look in my eye made the words balk at being spoken and he had to swallow them like bitter medicine—nasty, but healthier than the alternative.

“Now get out of here before I decide to demonstrate my last point.”

Yond, shaking with anger, stood and backed away from the table. His eyes were arcing with blue fire. “You’ll regret this.”

“Hit the road, punk.”

A massive lightning bolt struck where Yond was standing and he disappeared in the flash of light.

I sighed. Took a sip of rain-diluted ale and looked around the empty inn. So much for this gig. I was sure word of tonight’s events would spread as quickly as a whore’s legs on payday.

I bent to pick up the remnants of my lyre. Using a bit of the immortal flame burning within me, I wove the threads of power around the instrument and bound the shattered pieces together again, making it whole. I plucked the strings experimentally. It sounded different. It had lost a bit of the mellowness I’d loved about it.

Things were always like that. Never quite the same once shattered.

CHAPTER TWO

INTERLUDE:

IN THE HALL OF PANDRON

Citadel, the palace of Pandron, King of the Gods, existed in the Golden Realm, a place far away from the multiple realities of mortal man. In the center of Citadel was the great round hall where Pandron held audiences with his court of deities. He rested on his golden throne wearing white robes. A glowing crown of living fire floated over his head.

Yond stood before his father’s throne, his hair still wet from the rainstorm at the Inn. His blazing eyes were lowered and he was still shaking with rage.

Pandron spoke. “I take it the visit didn’t go well.”

“ A waste of time. He’s a fool,” said Yond.

Pandron nodded. “Perhaps. Did he allow you to show him the vision of Jegu?”

“Yes, but if anything it must have frightened him. He refused to involve himself in our fight. He told me to tell you to keep him out of our
family drama
.”

Pandron laughed. “Indeed?”

“Father? You consider it funny? It is disrespectful and he demeans us all by his attitude.”

“Your ego is too easily bruised, Yond, you can’t see past your outrage to perceive the truth. I know Kaltron better than he knows himself. The seed has been planted. This is his fight too, whether he wants it to be or not. His devotion to the mortals will ensure that. Eventually, he’ll come around.”

“I’m glad you’re so confident in our cowardly warlord. I’m not convinced.”

“He just needs a mild push in the right direction,”Pandron said. “I‘ll send someone else to speak with him—someone he won’t lock horns with. Perhaps persuasion from a former lover would be best.”

Pandron gestured toward the giant domed ceiling decorated with a representation of A star-strewn night sky. A small, winged creature left its perch in an alcove high up along the circumference. It had the outward appearance of a raven, but the intellect that shown in its eyes left no doubt this was a magical beast. It swooped down to land on Pandron’s outstretched arm.