Sword and Sorcery Sampler

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THE DRAGON BROOD WAR (episode 1):

It Walks Among Men

Gerhardt is hired to kill a priest, but his instincts tell him there is more to the job than he’s being told. He questions the man who hired him and discovers that the priest he’s sent to kill isn’t human at all—but a demon.

Undeterred, Gerhardt accepts the job. When he arrives at the cathedral, he realizes he knows the target. Somehow, Gerhardt’s past and future are connected to this mysterious priest, one in which his bloodline plays an important role in the war between gods, dragons, and men.

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CHAPTER 1

To Kill A Man

A NEW MOON RULED over the naked night and the stars hid from the world behind ghostly grey clouds. Shadow stood upon shadow and deepened in dark recesses where a torch’s light could not penetrate, like some ancient evil come to roost.

A warm wind blew from the south with just a hint of coming spring—pine and rotting leaves over the crisp cool scent of snow. Then just as quick it changed direction and came from the northwest, down from the glaciers biting cold and deep. It nipped at the flesh of man and beast alike, then sent those with a choice back inside to light their own fires to keep the chill at bay.

The city’s watchmen had no such luck. They huddled miserably together in thick woolen cloaks and kept out of the dark places where shadows roamed. Others, however, had no fear of shadows, nor of cold, and went where they willed, using indolence as cover far superior to shade.

A mile outside of Katz-Stiefel, Gerhardt stood in what could best be called a graveyard for the old gods. A temple stood dark and lifeless atop a small hill. It looked and felt like a tomb. A layer of undisturbed snow covered everything in a veil of white. The wind whistled through the temple’s broken walls sending wisps of snow through the air.

Through the years the forest had crept back on the deserted lands and reclaimed them for itself. Oaks spread their heavy branches wide, casting deep, dark shadows over all beneath them. Tall, spindly evergreens swayed in the wind. Their leaves rustled as the trees rocked back and forth. Dead vines wrapped around columns, scrabbled up the pillars like parasitic worms, and spiraled down from the roof in choking yellow-brown strands. Amid the vines, winter flowers had grown. They bloomed white with flecks of grey streaking along the insides of the petals making it look like someone had mourned the death of these ancient gods.

Gerhardt climbed the steps that led up to the portico. A god-statue whose name was long forgotten, stood guard at the entrance. He sat in a high-backed chair, a hooked spear spread across his lap, gazing out at the shadows that threatened to one day completely overrun this tiny temple. The god looked on, helpless to stop the coming doom. Snow crunched beneath Gerhardt’s feet as he made his way up the temple steps, past the statue, and into the temple.

The condition inside was no better than the outer yard. A reflection pool overflowed with rain water. Thick, green algae turned the pool to a pit of stinking decay. Around the pool, more god-statues once stood. Only four remained upright and untouched. The other eight had been pushed over and shattered on the floor. Thieves had made off with one god’s head, another’s arms, and the torso of a third. Jewels had been picked clean from the walls, the statues, and everywhere else they had decorated the temple. Broken clay pots littered the floor, their contents long gone.

Gerhardt climbed up another flight of steps and strode deeper into the ruins. He entered a small, square room that still had all of its walls intact. A man holding a torch stood with his back to him. The man studied the western wall where archaic words had been engraved into the stone, words Gerhardt doubted anyone living could still read. Light from the torch flickered as the man moved, sending the shadows he cast dancing like ghost upon the floor.

You’re late, the man said, not bothering to turn around.

I wanted to make sure I wasn’t followed.

The man turned. Torchlight fell across his face. He was old and thin, balding with grey hair lightly covering the top and sides of his head. He wore a thick fur coat which made him appear larger than he really was. He hobbled forward.

Do you know what it is I require of you?

What any other man who wants to hire me requires. You want someone murdered.

The man grunted, then turned back to the wall. In ancient times, men worshiped different gods. They built temples like this. Each man had his favorite whom he would pray to. He would come to a room such as this. The man reached out and touched the wall. He ran his fingers over the letters and symbols. And he would ask his god for rain, good crops, a pure wife, or healthy children. For centuries this lasted. Man asking. The gods sometimes giving.

What does this have to do with you hiring me?

The man removed his hand from the wall. Because the gods are only as strong as the people who follow them. I do not want you to kill someone. I want you to save a god. He lifted his torch and held it aloft. These gods no longer exist. No one worships them anymore. I do not wish to see that happen to my god. I do not wish his cathedrals to become a place of shadows and dust.

What would you have me do? I have no need of gods. If they exist or not is beyond my concern.

The man frowned. His wrinkles pulled downward, pinched around his mouth. His eyes flashed with anger. Do not mock me. It is not some common fool whom you deal with now, boy.

The man reached inside his coat and tossed a small coin bag in Gerhardt’s direction. It landed at Gerhardt’s feet and Gerhardt scooped it up. He counted each coin and dropped them in his coin pouch. Ten thousand hakkeris. Two thousand more than he charged. No one ever paid more than what was asked. He rubbed the last coin between thumb and forefinger. It was perfectly round and reflected the torch light in fiery gold. On one side was the face of the kaiser, on the other an image of Stolzenberg Castle.

Who do you want killed? Gerhardt asked.

The man clicked his tongue and turned away.

Gerhardt waited for a reply, but studied the man as he did so, searching for some hint of what he was missing. Could it be a relative that made him hesitate so? Someone who had offended this god of his?

Many types of people had hired him in the past. Fathers, sons, mothers, daughters. For wealth, for love, for revenge. He had seen them all, knew all of their reasons and the lies they told to justify their deeds. He knew why they didn’t do it themselves whenever he looked into their eyes. Cowardice. Fear. Incompetence. Laziness. Even kings spoke with nervousness at the treachery they plotted. Except for this man. This man had none of that. Whatever it was, this man did not have the mannerisms Gerhardt had come to expect. He was eager, yet he hesitated at the moment of decision. He was hiding something. Everyone usually was. Gerhardt’s instincts itched at the possibility that whatever he was not being told was important. This was not the case of someone who planned to assassinate a family member. He needed to find out more, he needed to know what was being held back.

Who? Gerhardt prodded.

The man’s face twitched in irritation. Gerhardt was about to throw the coins back, when the man finally spoke.

Father Neumann, the man said. Head priest of the god Hlothran. I wish it were not so, but it is he that you must deal with.

The four rules of the assassin had served Gerhardt well. However, he had come to trust his instincts even more than the rules. There was something else beneath the surface waiting to be discovered. It would not be the first time that someone who hired Gerhardt also wanted to see him dead—either to keep their secret from coming to light or to regain the coin they had paid. This man was far too weak to try and perform such a deed in an honest manner. Poison perhaps? Maybe a dagger in the back? Both were chances he would never get.

I’m curious, Gerhardt said, gripping his short sword beneath his cloak. Why do you want this man killed? Why hire me?

A broken rule in search of a better goal, a more wise plan.

The man stared back, eyes burning with hatred, the corners of his mouth twisted in disgust. Light from his torch wavered on his narrow face setting half of it in light, the other in darkness.

It is what he wants, the man said.

Who? Gerhardt asked.

Hlothran! The true Father. He has shown me a vision of the evil consuming this city. A demon grows inside Father Neumann. It will consume this land lest not it be stopped by the grace of the one true god.

The man’s eyes had a wild and glassy look to them, perhaps the result of his religious fervor. At last Gerhardt recognized what he saw in the man’s eyes. Insanity. Zealous stoicism. Gerhardt removed his hand from his sword. He scratched his beard and then patted the coins in his pouch. You gave me these coins—not this true god of yours. Why doesn’t your god kill this man if it serves his interest so well?

He has tried, the man said. Some force protects Father Neumann. You and I are but the instruments to Hlothran’s will. He knows the best course by which all things should be handled. A monster to rid me of a demon. The man nodded. Yes. I know what you are. If both of you perish this night, all the better, the world will be purer for it.

He knows nothing about what I am. I will have to charge you more if your god expects me to die.

The man glowered at him. He pulled a book with yellowed pages from the folds of his coat and waved it about. The god has spoken to me. I am his righteous servant. You will do this deed for the coin I have paid and rid this city of the evil that infects it. If you are lucky, Hlothran will have mercy and end your existence in this life of evil. Too long have I stood by and watched while Father Neumann perpetrates untold sins.

The man spit on the ground between Gerhardt’s feet. No longer, will I wait. Hlothran has shown me his vision. I hire you to return this demon to the hell from which it came. And ask me not for more coin!

The man crept closer. The fire from the torches danced in his eyes. Do you know how to kill a demon, monster?

Gerhardt grunted and shrugged his shoulders. I’ve killed men with the wings of bats and a hunger for virgin blood. I’ve killed men that turn into were-beasts when the moon grows full. And I’ve even sent the shambling dead back to their graves. But I’ve never had the pleasure of killing a demon.

The man shook the book in Gerhardt’s face. Demons are hard, hard creatures to kill. They’re not like sparkly bloodsuckers. They regenerate with each sin man does. They can jump from soul to soul with the slightest touch. No matter what you do, monster. Never! Never! Let the demon touch you. The man leaned forward. His yellow teeth shone in the light like nuggets of old gold. Now, he said, spittle flying from his mouth as he spoke. Can you do what my god has ordered you to do? Can you kill this demon?

Gerhardt shrugged. If a demon can be killed. Then I will kill it.

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CHAPTER 2

Secret Affairs

FATHER NEUMANN STUMBLED FROM BED.