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Authors: Armand Viljoen

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BOOK: Birth of a Mortal God
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Elizabeth wished she could trade places with one of those critics; then they’d have their proof. But what burned like fire in her mind was a simple annotation she had read at the bottom of one of the book’s pages, “Should you ever encounter an infant or female by chance, distance yourself from it immediately. The males enter a savage frenzy when outsiders come near their females or young.”

Her heart drummed in her ears as an infant female moved from behind her mother’s leg and started towards her. She heard the beastmen speaking amongst themselves when the infant started prodding her leg. Despite her efforts, her knees began to quake when a large male, draped in a black bear pelt, started towards her. She closed her eyes and again begged Xenusê to intervene.

“What are you doing?”

She opened her eyes and saw Asteroth had returned with the unusual-looking beastman by his side. “I—”

The infant ran over to the enormous crimson being, and he picked her up, placing her on his left shoulder. She whispered into his ear and he laughed. “She says you look funny with your pig skin, sunshine hair, and sky clothes.”

Elizabeth smiled at the strangely childlike remark. “What’s her name?”

“I’ani.”

She searched her pockets and produced a piece of candy. “May I give her this?”

He regarded it with suspicion. “Although we do eat some plants, we prefer meat. What you humans may consider a delicacy, could be poisonous to us.”

Elizabeth returned the candy to her pocket before producing a small brown bundle. “What about this?”

“And that is?”

She unfolded the cloth. “It’s called latar. The Harasa desert men make it. It is essentially dried meat with spices. It stays edible for months, thus making it ideal for travelling.”

Asteroth took the almost black piece of meat. “Interesting. I’ve never heard of the Harasa desert men.”

“Not surprising; they’re from far east of here. I doubt any of them has ever travelled this far west.”

When he was about to take a bite, the one draped in a black bear pelt said something that gave him pause, and a general conversation erupted among the surrounding beastmen.

“Is something wrong?” she asked, startled by their strange behaviour.

“It seems my tribe doesn’t want me to eat it for fear of it being poisoned.”

For a moment, she forgot her situation, snatching the latar from his hand and taking an angry bite from it. “I’m a healer. I don’t go around poisoning people!”

The unusual beastman said something in their strange guttural language, and the crowd burst into laughter.

“What’s so funny?”

“It is just that you act like one of our women when your food is insulted,” said Asteroth as he took a bite of the latar.

She felt her mood lighten. “Aren’t you going to give some to Ani?”

“I’ani, and I first have to ask her father’s permission,” he said before speaking with the large beastman wearing the black bear pelt. The answer seemed favourable as he handed the piece of latar to the girl, who greedily wolfed it down.

“It seems you might just fit in here, Elizabeth vi Descrinal.”

“I hope so.”

He whispered something to I’ani before putting her down. “She’ll take you to where you will be sleeping for the time being.”

“I hope you know what you are doing, brother,” said G’nar as he watched the little girl drag the human woman off to one of the few remaining tents.

Asteroth smiled at his brother. “She might just prove invaluable. Send a group to collect the humans I slew. The horses ran off with the wagon, but I’m sure they couldn’t have made it too far. Also, the men in armour are not to be stripped and processed like the rest. They are all to be given a warrior’s funeral; they fought bravely and died with honour.”

“Kar’ta,” said G’nar before he saw to it that his chieftain’s will be done.

The guards escorted
the man down the hall. They all knew who he was; he had practically become a legend in a fortnight. They always knew it was just a matter of time before the King would summon him. It had been surprisingly hard to deliver the royal summons, since everyone knew of him, but no one knew him. If not for a dutiful city watchman trying to drive off what seemed to him to be a loitering beggar, they would still be looking for him.

They entered the audience hall, and the guards halted the man a safe distance from where the royal family sat.

“You are the one? The one who’s been spreading a wet-nurse tale as fact?” asked the King dubiously as he examined the filthy man before him.

“He is not something a wet-nurse dreamt up. Asteroth is real,” responded the bearded man indignantly.

“You insolent swine!” said one of the King’s guards before striking the man. “You are speaking to the King! You will address him as Your Grace.”

The King smiled with satisfaction. “Asteroth is a myth, a fable. Will you also claim you rode into battle on the back of a unicorn?”

“My comrades, my closest friends, they were all butchered by that fable,
Your Grace
,” answered the man coldly.

“I knew many of the Black Griffins. They were hard men, and Ravid Reave had a shrewd military mind. That you alone survived, James, seems . . . improbable,” said the man to the King’s right.

Although he had never met the man, James knew who he was: the King’s younger brother. Sebastian ri Nok was everything his brother wasn’t: a man of sturdy build, a gifted swordsman, and a brilliant strategist. If not for him, the King would have lost his kingdom thrice over.

“I did not survive, My Prince. I died with my comrades, what you see before you is a shade of omen.”

The Prince nodded sympathetically, but the King bellowed, “Are you bereft of your senses? You are obviously a man of flesh and bone!”

“He means he was let go. Probably to serve as a warning,” Sebastian whispered to his brother.

The King blushed slightly. “Well . . . um . . .”

“James, tell us what happened; spare no detail and embellish nothing.”

“Yes, My Prince,” said James with a quick bow before recounting the event that haunted his dreams.

Chapter Four

Unlikely Pair

J
essica pulled her
cloak closer as an icy wind bit at exposed flesh. Despite having travelled with him for several weeks across wild terrain, she still knew very little about Killmar. What she did learn was that he detested being asked about his past, almost as much as he hated being disobeyed. As if it was utter arrogance on her part to presume to question him.

However, she persisted, always attempting to find the most opportune moment to pose a question. Sometimes, her efforts yielded results; more than often not, she was ignored. As a result, she had developed a keen sense of knowing what would agitate him and what wouldn’t.

She was beginning to suspect he was a wanted man, given his fondness for secrecy and habit of avoiding commonly travelled roads. But even if he was, she didn’t care. He was the one who freed her, an unlawful act in its own.

He saw her reaction to the wind and removed his robe, exposing a fine, tailored black tunic tucked into tight-fitting black trousers. “It seems the cloak isn’t sufficient protection against the cold.”

She took the offered garment. She had learned that he would never do something that would inconvenience him; thus, trying to be modest when offered something served no purpose and usually only ended up annoying him.

He stopped and watched as she slipped on his black robe. “Are you tired?”

She smiled as she recalled their first day travelling together. He had set an impossible pace and never took any breaks. At the time, she was still terrified he would leave her behind, so she had kept quiet. When she finally awoke after having collapsed from exhaustion, he explained that she should tell him when she needed rest, since he was in no hurry to reach his destination. “I can still go on for an hour or two.”

He glanced at the sun’s position. “It is getting dark. Wait here, I’ll find a location suitable to make camp.”

She watched as he disappeared into the nearby vegetation. “Be careful.”

He returned later with a smile on his face. “There is a hot spring nearby. You will have the perfect opportunity to flaunt that beautiful figure of yours.”

She could never help but blush when he teased her. It was all due to his eyes. She felt incredibly exposed under their scrutiny, as if they pierced through to her very soul. She followed him to the spring and found that he had already made camp.

Several trees had been uprooted and were stacked together to serve as a makeshift hut near the hot spring. The ground around it was pounded into a solid floor, and all the familiar camp equipment had once again appeared out of nowhere. She could no longer contain her curiosity and decided to pose one of her theories. “Killmar, are you a magician?”

He grinned as he started to strip off his clothes. “The only magic I possess is my ability to have a beautiful girl follow me around for no apparent reason.”

She pouted as she turned from his half-naked body, partly out of modesty, and partly in an attempt to hide her flushed cheeks. “I wish you would stop your constant teasing.”

“That would make things a great deal less amusing. You should join me; the water is quite soothing.”

She started to undress when she noticed that he was paying a little too close attention. “This won’t do. I am going somewhere more private. When I get back, I want you to close your eyes until I am in the water.”

Killmar did his best imitation of pouting as she moved into the nearby vegetation. “Don’t wander off too far.”

“Is he entirely indifferent to embarrassment?” she said to herself as she started to unbutton her tunic.

Her last piece of clothing was on the bundle with the rest, when a roar erupted behind her. She instinctively clutched the bundle to her chest as she spun around. An enraged black bear greeted her on its hind legs, a massive right paw already baring down to maim her.

She closed her eyes and said one last prayer to Henensu, begging the god of death to have his servant Inkanak judge her with mercy. But instead of pain, she heard a dull thump followed by a gurgle. Slowly she opened her eyes before gasping at what she saw.

Killmar’s soaked form stood between her and the bear. His left hand clutching its right foreleg, while his right hand dug into its throat. The muscles in his right arm bulged, and the bear died instantly. He threw it aside as if the whole affair had been nothing but a nuisance, before turning to her. “You should have just disrobed in front of me. That way, you wouldn’t be shocked, I would have been happy, and the bear would still be alive.”

Jessica pointed to the bear. “You . . . you . . . just—”

He picked her up. “Yes, I just killed a bear with my bare hands. Fascinating, aren’t I? Now let’s get back to the spring. It is a bit chilly to be strutting around unclothed.”

She looked up at him in disbelief. “What are you?”

He threw aside the bundle of clothing she was still clutching to her chest as they moved into the steaming water. “I am whatever you want me to be.”

She smiled at his predictable answer, finding his presence soothing. “You can let go of me now.”

He seemed reluctant as he examined her body. Most of her bruises were almost healed, which caused her to gain in beauty each day. “I wonder . . .”

She looked into his eyes, which seemed a bright golden in the moonlight. “What?”

His light blue hair gained a slight glow as he glided his right hand over her body while he kept her afloat with his left.

She closed her eyes as a sense of pleasure began coursing through her. It continued building, and she bit her lip to keep from moaning, but it soon overwhelmed her. She opened her eyes and saw him looming over her with a smile. His hair and eyes were alight with a luminescent glow, and the water reflected it, causing the entire spring to shine a light blue. Then suddenly her mind grew foggy.

“It’s so beautiful,” was all she managed to press out before the fog swallowed her consciousness.

Killmar brushed back
a lock of hair from her face. He had dried and placed her under the furs soon after she fainted. He had to admit though, that although successful, his experiment had a lot of unexpected consequences.

She sleepily opened her eyes, finding herself curled up against his naked body. “What—”

He smirked. “Good morning, beautiful.”

She quickly propped herself upright. “What is going on here?”

He did his best to look as innocent as possible. “Whatever do you mean?”

Blood rushed to her cheeks as she recalled what had happened the previous night. A girlish reaction she had thought taken from her by coarse hands. “Did we . . . ?”

“Did we what?”

“You know.”

He fought down a smile. “No, I don’t. What?”

She felt strangely embarrassed by the whole affair and could not even look him in the eye. “Did we spend the night together?”

“Of course, we always spend nights together.”

“Seven hells, man, did we fuck or not?” she said strangely irritated, although she was not sure if his or her own behaviour was the cause.

His smile broadened at her outburst. “Aren’t you a naughty little minx for jumping to that conclusion? Why do you believe that we spent this night differently than any other?”

She slid back under the furs. “Well, I was . . . and you were . . . oh never mind.”

“Well, now that you are awake, I suppose we can move along,” he said as he stood and started getting dressed.

She blew a lock of hair from her face in a very unladylike fashion. “What was that last night?”

“I’m not sure; you just suddenly fainted. Perhaps we should slow our pace some more?” he answered as he pulled on a boot.

She lay under the furs a while longer, waiting for him to turn his back before she followed suit. Then she noticed it. Her bruises, their ache, were all gone.

He glanced at her restored body and thought,
Truly breathtaking.

As she pulled on her black tunic and trousers, she said, “You healed me.”

“What? I don’t know what you are talking about. The water from the hot spring must have some healing properties.”

BOOK: Birth of a Mortal God
2.1Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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