Page 13 of Rise of the Gods: Vardor’s Destiny (Time for Monsters)

S o far, I had simply operated on instinct, but that needed to stop. Getting Vaelora somewhere warm and safe was my first priority. I wasn't a fool. The woman whose body she used as a vessel would fight me tooth and nail, and so would any outsider. I saw how people dressed here, and I knew I stood out like a sore thumb. That needed to change as well. For that, I would need gold. Nothing had changed in that regard. Gold and gems still ruled the world like they had for millennia. I had the means to secure it, too, but for that, I would need to leave Vaelora here, by herself.

I hated the idea. Not only because she would use any opportunity to escape, but because the city's scum dwelled in these corners of the land. The thought of the six men and what they would have done to Vaelora still churned my gut. I would have gladly killed them again, and I knew there would be more. Scum like them always multiplied by the dozens and sought to take what they had no rights to.

I knew these things because I had grown up beside them. Just another mouth to feed. As soon as I was old enough to comprehend what my mother was doing to keep my sisters, grandma, and me fed, I looked for ways to bring home food. I was seven when I killed for the first time. He was drunk and had sought to do unspeakable things to my body. I killed him and took the few gold pieces he had on him to feed my family. I never killed for gold, but I stole. I lied and I cheated. And I swore that one day I would have the means to support my family. That one day, every man in that land would know my name and fear it.

Today, I had more than I had when I was that boy. I just needed a plan, which didn't take long to form. Yes, that would work. I only needed to wait a few more hours, until the city fell asleep. Then, under the mantle of darkness, it would be easy to usher Vaelora through the streets back to the storage chamber where I had hidden my gold and gems. We might even find clothing for both of us there. If not, I would purchase some as soon as the sun came up. After that, we could find a tavern where I could work on her memory.

I nodded to myself. That was a good plan.

Gently, I stroked her face with the knuckles of my hand, "Try to get some sleep, we will leave in a few hours."

She looked up, and fear shone in her eyes. "Where will we go?"

"I have a place. A safe place." I assured her. In the meantime, I would try to figure out how to keep her quiet. I might have to subdue her with threats. I didn't like the idea, but I couldn't have her squirming and screaming. That would endanger us both.

Her pupils were large, like discs, and reflections of the flames from the fire danced inside them. It had been a long time since I had experienced fear. But I recognized it in others.

"You should fear me," I said, my gut clenching. I hated doing this to her, but it was the only way I could think of to keep her quiet.

She recoiled, drew the blanket closer around her, and curled up on the rough stones. I will make it up to you , I swore, hardening my heart. I had to keep reminding myself that this was not Vaelora. Vaelora was trapped inside her somewhere, and she needed me to get her out. To awaken her. This woman at my feet was only a vessel. A vessel and nothing more. Still, she moved me. Moved my long-forgotten heart, moved a human part inside me that had been dormant for longer even than I had been asleep.

Gods didn't need sleep, so I held watch while she finally fell into an exhausted slumber. Now and then little noises, sighs and low moans, escaped her lips. Her sleep was restless, haunted by her ordeal. Me. That thought didn't sit well with me. I didn't enjoy frightening women. Least of all her.

I studied her features. She looked exactly like my Vaelora, and yet, there were parts of her that didn't. I didn't remember ever seeing Vaelora look this innocent and fragile. It took me a moment, but then I realized that this woman— Roweena?—was missing the aura of haughtiness that had always surrounded Vaelora. Her heart wasn't fortified by an icy wall. Her emotions, her fear, were plain on her face, even now as she slept. Comparing the two was a dangerous path. One I shouldn't be traveling , I admonished myself. Instead, I directed my mind to travel back to when I finally found her. Her scent had led me to the large temple filled with hundreds of people. But I only had eyes for her. She looked beautiful as ever in her ridiculous dress. Her sight drew me forward like a moth to the flame. I realized I was interrupting some kind of bonding ceremony and breathed a breath of relief for having come just in time, before she could fully pledge herself to that joke of a man. Not that I would have minded slaying her groom , but it would have complicated things more if she had any feelings for him.

Did she?

That thought unnerved me. Was she even now thinking of him? Dreaming of him? I recalled the little peacock's image. He didn't look like he even deserved the title man . He had been all prettied up in fancy clothing like a woman. Had smelled like one too. What happened to this world that had emasculated males? Were there no wars to fight anymore?

I thought back on the six men I killed earlier. They hadn't been exactly burly, but they most definitely were more muscular than the silken fob Vaelora had sought to bind herself to. What had she been thinking?

That's when I reminded myself again that Vaelora wasn't in charge of her fate right now. She had given herself up to this human vessel. So this must have been Roweena's doing then, I mused. This might turn out to be more complicated than I had anticipated.

After a few hours, I roused Roweena—I decided to call her that for now to remind myself that she wasn't my Vaelora. Not yet. Luck was on my side. The woman was too drowsy to pose much of a challenge. I dragged her half-asleep through the empty streets with their flickering, eerie lights. Finding my way back wasn't hard despite the unfamiliar territory. My instincts homed in on myself, and it didn't take long before I caught my own scent, leading me back to where I came from hours ago.

The building was large and dark. Everything was quiet.

"Where are we?" Roweena asked, her lids still mostly closed.

"Almost there," I assured her.

Suddenly she jerked in my arms. Her eyes widened in alarm as she must have recognized this place. Her lips parted to let out a blood-curdling scream, but I stopped her. I placed my hand over her mouth and shook my head. Her eyes pleaded with me, little sounds came from her, and her hands wrapped around my arms. I dragged her closer to the building. There. A short, steep set of stairs led to a door underneath the building. Roweena fought me with everything her little body had to offer, but I dragged her effortlessly down the stairs. I had to let go of her with one hand, and she doubled her efforts. Kicking at me and trying to bite my hand.

"Wildcat," I chuckled. She had more spirit in her little finger than her gold-gilded coward of a groom had in his entire body.

I turned the knob, but the door was locked. Stepping back, the wiggling Roweena still in my arm, I gave it a hard kick. It flew open. Roweena's muffled cries became more desperate and her dull nails scratched over my arm, amusing and impressing me with her resilience.

Just as I had expected, the door led straight into the familiar storage chamber. I placed Roweena down on one of the chairs. "Stay!" I ordered before going in search of my hidden gems. I kept my ears open for any kind of movement from her, but she sat still.

When I returned, she was curiously looking around, but still seated.

"Let's see if we can find some clothes for us," I suggested, already having an idea where to look since I’d spent six months down here. Just as I pried one of the wooden crates open, I heard her move. I turned and watched her walk to my sarcophagus.

I joined her side as her fingers reverently brushed over the inscriptions. "Do you know what they mean?"

"Nobody knows," she said with a slightly sad tone in her voice.

"Here lies Vardor, mightiest of warriors, whose strength knew no equal in this age or the next. The chosen blade of the gods, the bringer of conquest, the hand of war itself. Yet, he defied the will of the divine, and in her boundless power, the goddess Vaelora cast him into a sleep without end. Let none disturb his rest, lest they invoke her wrath, swifter than the desert wind, deadlier than the serpent's bite. May the one who dares unseal this sacred tomb suffer the fate of the forsaken."

"You are delusional. Nobody can read these ancient hieroglyphics," she scorned.

I raised an eyebrow at her; she had courage. The courage of a lion, but the stature of a rabbit. She had no power to back her words up. None. And she had to know this, which made me admire her even more.

"Since it was me inside the coffin, I do know what these hieroglyphs mean," I explained.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, then she looked at me like one would a petulant child. "You did not awaken in this coffin."

I pulled a cream handkerchief out of my pocket. The blood on it had long since dried. RW was embroidered in a corner. "This is yours, I believe."

A tremor moved through her as she looked at it. "That doesn't prove anything."

"This ring," I grabbed her hand and held it up, forcing her to look at the black pearl, "you took it from this sarcophagus."

She paled. Her head moved from side to side as she tried to deny my claim. With a short cry, she snatched her hand from mine. "That doesn't prove anything," she repeated.

"You took it back, but before, you put it inside, just before you had me sealed up for thousands of years," I said patiently.

She stared at me, but her head was still moving. She grabbed her hand wearing the ring with the other as if worried I might take it from her.

"You—"

The door above creaked open.

Roweena's lips parted, ready to let out a scream, but I was on her. Putting my palm over her lips, I pulled her back behind the crates where I usually hid when workers came with a delivery or to take something away.

Roweena kicked and squirmed like a cat caught in a sack. Her eyes saw it the moment I did, an old oil lamp stood on one of the crates. I had used it on several occasions when I went to explore parts of the storage chamber the light above didn't quite reach. Her legs moved up; she was ready to kick it to the ground. Thankfully her long skirt stopped her, but her feet reached the crate, and she kicked it hard enough to send the lamp teetering. A curse escaped me underneath my breath. My hand pulled out one of the knives I had taken from the low men at our hiding spot and charged forward. I didn't care if she screamed now. I couldn't stop the lamp from falling, just like I couldn't stop the workers from hearing it. I pushed forward just as the lamp shattered on the ground.

"What—"

That was as far as he got before I banged his head against that of his companion, knocking them both out. I fell to my knees to slit the first one's throat, when Roweena cried out, "No... please... don't!"

I looked at her in astonishment. Vaelora had never given a second thought to the death of a mortal. She would have never interfered or stopped me.

"Please," Roweena pleaded. "They don't know anything, let's just... go, please."

I hesitated. I wouldn't have thought twice about killing these men, but Roweena had just unwittingly given me the weapon I needed to keep her quiet. In order for it to work, I needed to keep these men alive.

"You will walk out of here with me willingly?"

Tears shimmered in her eyes, nearly killing me. Vaelora had never cried. To see my beloved's face, her eyes filled with compassion, did something to me, turned my gut and heart in a way... I hadn't felt since before I became a god.

She nodded, wringing her hands. "I will. I swear. Just don't kill them, please."

I sheathed the knife and stood. "Alright. But one word from you, and the first person we meet will have to pay for it, understand?"

She kept nodding. "Yes."

"Alright. They'll be out for a while anyway, so find some clothes for yourself in that crate." I pointed at the one I had opened before the men had interrupted me.

She pulled a dress out and then another, giving me a funny look. "What?" I demanded.

"I can't wear these," she refused.

"Why not, what's wrong with them?"

A deep conflict rushed over her expression. She was visibly torn between explaining it to me and weighing her chances of what would happen if she didn't.

"I don't care who or how many mortals I have to kill, Roweena," I warned.

She closed her eyes and sighed, "These clothes are from the thirteenth century. Everybody will stare if I wear them. They will get suspicious."

She truly seemed to care about other humans. Or was it just a trick? I had to consider that she was trying to lull me in with her faked compliance just to try and outsmart me later. Vaelora was a very intelligent person; there were many similarities between her and Roweena besides looks. The way she walked and talked—despite the different language—told me she was in there somewhere. Vaelora would use any trick to break free, and so, it seemed, would Roweena. Well, time would tell, and I was prepared.

"Let's go find a place with a bed and food." I pulled out two black capes from the trunk and wrapped one around her, pulling up the hood to hide her face, "Will these be acceptable?"

"Yes," her voice was barely audible.

I pulled the other cape around me to hide myself. I still didn't have shoes, and that might be a problem.

"Stay," I instructed her and moved to the unconscious workers.

"You promised," she cried.

"And I will keep it," I hissed, insulted that she suggested I wouldn't. I pulled off the first man's shoes—too small. The second's weren't much better, but they would do. At least for now.

"Let's go," I put my hand on the small of her back and led her back to the door we had entered through. The satchel of jewels was heavy in my pocket, its weight reassuring that I could procure whatever we needed.

Outside, the first rays of the sun were trying to break through the rooftops. The houses were built so close together that their roofs nearly met, keeping a twilight glow upon the streets even in the early morning hours.

We didn't have to walk long before I noticed a sign proclaiming Swan's Inn . From one of the books, I had learned that an Inn was a place where one could find a bed and food. I stirred Roweena toward it and opened the door like I had observed other men do, marveling that they would send their females in first, not knowing what dangers might lurk inside. The world had changed indeed, if they didn't have to fear for safety like this.

"Good morning, sir, what can I offer you today?"

"Food and a room," I demanded.

"Of course, sir. Right away, sir," the old man nodded, pointing at a table by a large fireplace.

A couple sat at another, fussing over a baby.

"We will eat in the room," I decided when I saw two men in uniform sitting at another table. I didn't mind a fight, but Roweena needed a hot bath, food, and warm clothes.

"Of course, sir," the man agreed happily.

"And have a bath brought up," I added, something else I had learned through the books. These people didn't have baths in their houses. Most didn't even bathe for weeks at a time. No wonder they all looked so sickly.

"A bath?" The proprietor's gray eyebrows rose up all the way to his hairline.

I pulled out one of the lesser gems, "I trust this will suffice."

The man's eyes grew large, and I worried I was overpaying him. "How long will you be staying, good sir?"

"A few days," I informed him, already on my way to the stairs, pulling Roweena behind me. She dutifully kept her head down, but her futile glances to the Watch Men didn't escape me. "Your choice," I whispered into her ear.

She turned her head away and hurried up the stairs.

"Last door straight ahead of you," the man called after us.