Champion of the Gods
Copyright© 2025 by QM
Chapter 29
“Unacceptable!” Roesaf snapped. “You will use your powers to aid him!”
“And you think I’d trust one of your people?” Erren asked, before turning to Trassaf. “This foolishness gets us nowhere. Postpone this idiocy until you reach Tremiln.”
“He will fight then?” Trassaf asked.
“You have my word.”
“Agreed,” Trassaf nodded. “Roesaf, you will hold off your challenge until we reach our new sanctuary, there you will face him, and nowhere else.”
“He is a coward,” Roesaf sniffed. “Death is all he deserves.”
“Obey me!” Trassaf stated, eyes glowing with anger.
“I ... I will obey,” an intimidated Roesaf stammered out.
“It is settled, until then, this Human is under my protection, and it will not go well for any who harm him.”
Meals having been cooked and fires extinguished, the Fiends set off again, Darras leading them to a large wood where they could set up for the night, the scouts having found game there and a stream. Darras swiftly set up a lean-to and used a thin leather blanket to both waterproof and windproof it. He was then guided by Erren and hunted down a couple of rabbits, swiftly preparing them along with boiled vegetables and herbs into a satisfactory meal. He did notice he was being observed by a couple of Fiends, both young and looking a bit gaunt.
“Want some?” Darras asked, pointing at the prepared meat. “Help yourself, there’s plenty.”
Both scrambled forward and grabbed a haunch, yelping slightly at the heat, but still trying to stuff as much into their mouths as they could, just in case their good fortune vanished.
‘Orphans, ’ Erren confirmed. ‘Living off scraps as they have no status or training.’
“Guess it’s something to do for the next month,” Darras chuckled.
‘You’re a good man, just be careful.’
As soon as they were done, the two moved away, clearly not trusting Darras ... or anyone else in the camp. Darras understood that his presence was pretty much the same as theirs, tolerated but not deemed useful. Still, he could help them survive, assuming they’d let him.
The following morning was overcast, and Erren informed Darras that it would rain later that day. Darras informed Trassaf of this before directing the scouts and hunters on how to move, before the main body set off. Soon, the rain began, though weatherwise, the Fiends paid it no heed. Darras soon spotted the younglings as they stayed closer to him than the rest of the Fiends, possibly hoping for food. Around noon, the march had reached the coast between villages again, and Sorella provided the same bounty of fish, only this time Darras grabbed two large fish and swifly beheaded and filleted them before dropping them to fry in a flat pan, greased from the rabbit fat he’d saved from the previous night. Darras also added wild vegetables he’d picked on the march, and the smell wafting from his meal soon attracted attention from other Fiends, though none approached except the younglings.
“Help yourselves,” Darras said, scooping two large portions onto wooden plates for them. “There’s no need for you to go hungry with me around.”
“Why help us, Human?” one of them asked, letting Darras know she was female.
“You are travelling to a new land,” Darras replied. “It’s Erren’s wish that your tribe gets there.”
“Yet it is not our way.”
“Your way, no. My way, yes,” Darras chuckled. “I can teach you what’s good to eat and how to set snares for food.”
“You will?” the other asked, proving him to be male.
“I will, though we have a short time to do it in, so try hard.”
The Fiends were like Orcs; they did not use bows and arrows but used slings. Neither of the younglings had any skill with them, nor had they the materials to make one. This Darras was able to do for them as they made camp for the night, fashioning two from leather strips and cord cut from his blanket. He then told them to practice as he went hunting, guided by Erren to a group of plump pheasants that he swiftly despatched and drained of blood. Returning to the camp, Darras found the two bruised and injured, their new slings having been taken from them.
“Where?” Darras asked Erren.
‘That gang, watching from scrub, ’ Erren replied.
The gang had been watching whilst Darras had fed the younglings, and their envy had turned to jealousy when Darras had handed over the slings. Thinking that Darras would do nothing, they had asserted their dominance to beat and take the slings for themselves. They did not, however, expect what happened next when Darras came back, observed the scene and then seemed to blur to appear in front of them suddenly and brutally cuffed them to the ground, taking the slings they held back.
“Do that again and I’ll kill you,” Darras said in chilling tones.
An adult who had been watching approached as if to intervene, though pulled up short when Darras turned to face them and slowly backed away. Darras then returned to the younglings and handed the slings back.
“Help me cook,” Darras requested, and the two scrambled to set up the pots Darras used. Darras then showed the male how to skewer the pheasants and turn them to cook properly, and the female how to prepare the herbs and wild vegetables she’d helped gather. Trassaf approached at this point, followed by several in the tribe who looked angry.
“You attacked the children of the tribe,” Trassaf said.
“I dealt with thieves who stole from those I have chosen to protect,” Darras shrugged. “They should have taught their brats better if they think stealing is acceptable.”
Trassaf looked at the two cowering younglings, then frowned. “Kolnos and Veer, I knew their sire, a good hunter, until he ran across a Wendigo. They are under your protection?”
“For the length of the journey,” Darras nodded.
Trassaf turned to the group following. “Teach your children better, we do not steal from our own!”
And that was it, Trassaf had spoken, and the matter was settled. Not that Darras had any illusions about being accepted, still, it was enough to know that Kolnos and Veer were safe from bullying and pettiness, though Darras had no clue which one was which, to Erren’s amusement.
Cooking resumed, and a good meal was prepared. Again, the surrounding Fiends watched cautiously as the scent from it was enticing and smelled far better than their own efforts, thanks to the herbs they had gathered. Darras then showed the pair various herbs and named them.
“If you see these on the journey, gather them, they help with cooking,” Darras requested. “Also, practice with the slings as and when you can.”
“Yes, our thanks,” the female replied. “I am Veer, my brother Kolnos.”
“I am Darras, agent of the goddess Erren,” Darras replied.
“We are taught that she is the adversary,” Veer said hesitantly.
“She isn’t,” Darras chuckled. “She’s a nice lady who would see you and your people grow strong away from Ventris.”
“What will happen to us when you go?” Kolnos asked.
“Hopefully, you’ll learn enough to survive and thrive,” Darras replied. “I can teach you to hunt and cook, set up a lean-to and learn basic medicine.”
And so it went on, because the Fiends were getting food from the sea, they never strayed near the villages and farms. Darras taught Veer and Kolnos as much as he could, and their basic skills improved to the extent that Kolnos became accurate enough with a sling to bring down enough food to feed the pair. This, with the food Darras brought in and Veer gathered, enabled Darras to barter for better clothing for the pair. Darras realised he was being cheated by way of the barter, but as he could always find more food, he did not object, and the younglings were now dressed comfortably and had winter blankets attached to the packs they now had.
Erren only stepped in once, and that was to teach Veer how to produce fire by magic, getting Darras’s finger to draw the mental shape needed to fix the act in Veer’s mind and give her the ability to light a fire under any conditions. The day came, though, when the Fiends reached the river bordering Gomesh, and there waiting was a force of Dwarves as well as Benevin holding a spare horse. Darras took the lead and approached them, accompanied by Trassaf and Roesaf, who kept their distance as Darras walked up to the Dwarven leader.
“Greetings,” Darras began. “I am Darras, agent of Gilmea.”
“So we were told,” the Dwarf said brusquely. “The High King has sent me to ensure your ... migration stays to the coast and does not enter the heartland.”
“You have my and Gilmea’s word that they won’t”
“Good, now introduce the Fiends with you as I would like to know who could control such an exodus,” the Dwarf replied.
Darras beckoned Trassaf and Roesaf over and introduced them.
“My name is Tark, Paladin of Gomesh,” the Dwarf replied, Darras interpreting. “Stick to the coast, do not stray, and you’ll have no trouble from us.”
“We shall,” Trassaf promised. “What do you know of Perenoth?”
“The High King forbade news of your passage after his priest had a vision,” Tark replied. “Few know you are here, so your secret is safe for now, though they’ll likely spot you if you are not careful.”
“Good, my thanks.”
“Be on your way, we will be watching.”
“It does appear the gods favour us,” Trassaf said to Darras and Benevin as they returned to where the Fiends were assembling to cross the bridge.
“They saw your potential, you abided by their terms, so they arranged your migration with their followers,” Darras replied.
“And what of Tremiln, should we reach it?” Trassaf asked.
“It will become yours. Perenoth does not have the numbers to take it from you,” Darras replied. “Simply do not interfere with the trade routes.”
“So we are to ignore strangers passing through our lands?” Roesaf asked.
“If you are wise, yes,” Darras replied. “Perenoth alone does not have the forces to deal with you, but Gomesh and Perdolis do.”
“That is wise, we need to grow, not lose our people to foolish skirmishes,” Trassaf replied, cutting off Roesaf’s reply.
“You’ll also have the protection of the forest folk for a while, as you’ll be living in their woods,” Darras added.
“For a while?”
“A generation or two and you won’t need it,” Darras replied.
“Ah, and then perhaps we can deal with the traders,” Trassaf nodded. “They should at least pay to cross our lands.”
“Just don’t be unreasonable,” Darras smiled. “Also, find out what you can trade with them.”
“Pah, we need nothing from them!” Roesaf sneered.
Darras took out his blade and handed it to Trassaf. “Forge metal, can you?” he asked.
“No, we cannot,” Trassaf admitted, Roesaf looking at the blade in shock.
“Then find something to trade for it, as trying to steal it will lose you the protection of the gods.”
“I’m sure this new land is abundant in pelts,” Trassaf nodded. “It will be as you say.”
“It is,” Darras confirmed. “Now I must go for a while, but I will meet you with the agent of Doriel at the Perenoth border.”
“And the younglings?” Trassaf asked.
“They know I’ll be gone, but will return,” Darras replied. “I’ll also deal with any of yours who abuse them when I do.”
“I’ll make that known,” Trassaf nodded. “Though their hunting skills are such that I think they’ll be left alone as they barter for the meat they catch.”
“You should not corrupt our people,” Roesaf snapped.
“Teaching younglings to survive if they are orphaned or abandoned is the duty of a tribe,” Darras replied in steely tones. “You might take note of that.”
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