The Clovel Destroyer (8 page)

The giant felt someone watching
him,
and he looked over to see Arvim staring at him from
the bridge. Urith went back to where the skald stood, saying
nothing as he passed the man in the back robe. He went to his dead
ossane,
pulling his bags and blanket along
with his saddle. He carried the equipment to the bandit’s mount,
packing the animal for the rest of his trip. As he worked, the rest
of the skalds rounded up the remaining prisoners and Narslac led
them across the bridge.

“
It will take some
time
to gather our ossanes. Fortunately, only one of our
men was killed. We will carry his body back to Gramcan. I believe
some of the men wish to take these prisoners back to Gramcan for
judgment,” Narslac told him.

“
That is up to you,” replied
Urith, not stopping as he packed. “I would just cut their throats
and leave them to the scavengers.”

“
I’ve seen you in
battle,
and I don’t believe you really mean that.” The
skald leader observed. Urith did not
respond,
so the man continued. “I did not speak of it last night, but I met
the farmer you saved from bandits like these. He told about the
death of your wife. You have much on your shoulders. But I ask that
you listen to one who has seen much in my life.” Narslac placed his
hand on Urith’s shoulder. “Bitterness and revenge are not honorable
traits for a follower of Heptarc. Please believe me when I say that
the emptiness of one’s heart cannot be filled
with
the blood of enemies.”

Urith momentarily stopped, thinking about the man’s
words. “Words don’t fill it either.” It was a simple statement
without sarcasm. The giant warrior climbed on the ossane. He held
out his arm to Narslac. “You have honored my father who looks down
from Haligulf with pride at your songs. I thank you for this.”

Narslac grabbed his new friend’s forearm. “I will
make an
offering
to
him
and your wife when we reach a temple. Please, stay and wash. We
would be honored if you joined with us for a while.”

Urith shook his head. “My path leads to other lands.
It appears I need to follow where the Fates take me and learn from
life. I hope we meet again.
Farewell
.” The
giant warrior dug his heels into the ossane, turning the
long-necked beast toward the north and his tribal home. Narslac
watched him ride away before returning to the other skalds. He did
not see Arvim walking along the road behind the disappearing Urith.
Entering an area of brush and out of sight from the
group of bards
, the figure of the young man changed.
Soon, a tall woman with a black shawl over her shoulders
was staring
in the direction of the Esterblud
warrior.

“
What
a
remarkable
human,” Mivraa
murmured
to
herself. “It appears the Oracle of the Gods got his fortune
correct,” the woman pulled back her black shawl
over
her head revealing her auburn hair. Her hazel eyes
shimmered like her golden breastplate gleaming in the sun. Half
human, the goddess found the young human warrior to be more
complicated
than she
initially
thought. He would be one to keep an eye on she
decided as she seated herself, leaning back against a tree, as she
waited
for the group of skalds
to
leave.

It was just before sunset when the demigoddess of
Haligulf was satisfied that none but the dead remained. The woman
walked to where the stripped bodies lay, knowing nothing of value
would stay
. Even the bodies would soon feed
the animals and nourish the soil. But her duties lay with the
spirits which wandered about the area. She was one of the few who
could see the spirits in the world of the living. Normally,
cutthroats like these would not be worthy of her attention. They
would be left for one of the
Vanths
of the
underworld to send to eternal torment. However, on this
evening,
the demigoddess felt some sympathy to a few of
those thugs who fought
valiantly
. She told the
shades they would have a chance to follow her when she took the
skald to the sky realm. Despite their foul deeds, a hero had just
given them a chance at Haligulf with the approval of her father,
Duwdamon.

As the spirits gathered around the woman, she heard
the low familiar whistle.
Tuulcha
stepped from
the shadows looking at the spirits. She was not pleased, although
only another god could tell this. As one of the demigods of the
underworld, the
Vanth
was a horrible creature
with a rat face, beady eyes and a mouth that was like the beak of a
hawk. On her head snakes writhed giving a revolting image of living
hair that helped the underworld god control the spirits as she
led
them to the underworld.
Tuulcha
cocked her head to one side, staring at
Mivraa.

“
These mine
,”
the ugly creature said. “Underworld gets unworthy.”

Mivraa shook her head as she told the Vanth it is
too late. A hero’s battle created more spirits for her. “You’ll
have to guide the cowards who ran from the field. Besides, you were
out to
build
fires to trap the humans. Go
there.”

Tuulcha refused to leave. “No,
these
mine
.” The
demigod
held
its
weapon at the ready. “Fires not bring much.
The hero
in my way.”

The demigoddess of Haligulf placed her hand under
her shawl, retrieving a crystal spear that reflected like silver.
“Do you wish to fight me?” Her grim smile showed she liked the
idea. “I would love to show off your head mounted on a pike in the
sky realm.”

The foul underworld creature stared at her long and
hard
but decided against a fight. She placed
her weapon on her shoulder and watched as Mivraa began walking her
spirits toward the twisted lellowtere tree near the bridge. Tuulcha
waited until they left before returning to the shadows where she
retrieved the single soul of a blonde woman. Forcing the weeping
spirit along the same path to the twisted tree, the Vanth decided
it would be happy when its master, Caruun, decided to remove the
sky realm as he always promised.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Gordon Brewer is the
pseudonym for a professional geek, history buff, and
full-time
dad
who took up a challenge from his son to finish his first novel and
enter the world of writing. Raised on a farm in Kansas, the author
spent nearly 5 years in the US Navy traveling to 12 different
countries during this time. After his discharge, he received his BS
degree with double majors in History and Political
Science.

Over the next 20 years,
Gordon focused on the business and IT world. His experiences left
him with a need to explore
wide-ranging
interests in multiple
genres, each with historical consideration given to the characters
and settings.

He often uses his son and wife as
unfortunate guinea pigs where they are forced to listen to his
tales, no matter how poorly conceived they may be.

You can find more information about his new
novels and stories at www.gordonbrewer.com.