Chapter 7 Part 3

Armegon and Ultrecht were received with unusual coolness by Calista. Ruk assured them that she would warm up eventually. "She treated me rather rudely at first," the minotaan had said after her initial cold shoulder display. "But after the first few days, she became confident that you were bringing Sam back to her. I don’t know how long she’ll begrudge this, but a glimmer of hope will better her mood."

Armegon immediately made his way to where the young woman was clearing some space to plant a garden. She and Ruk had passed the last few days cleaning up and restoring order.

"I’m sorry that we didn’t bring Sam back," he told her, "but I can’t bring back what was not there."

"I noticed that Avery isn’t with you," she replied.

Armegon took a breath. "We have reason to believe that they were taken to Aspberg," he told her. “Avery went to lead a false trail away from the Doyr stronghold to protect this camp. We pretty much trashed their place. That’s liable to make some people very angry. And I suspect that after he’s done with that, Avery will probably go south and scout Aspberg out to find out if they’re still there."

"And if they are?"

"Then he’d better give us a call," Armegon replied.

"How will he do that?" Calista asked.

"With magic, of course."

"Can he use magic without giving himself away?"

That stumped Armegon. He had forgotten that Avery's magic was still traceable. They had not had time to work with him on that. Armegon swallowed and faked a smile. "He can handle himself," he said.

"How do you know that they are in Aspberg?"

"We have a prisoner," Armegon said. "She was one of the priestesses. Avery was about to kill her in the fight, but she was pregnant and his sword refused to kill her for the innocent child's sake."

Calista's jaw firmed. "I want to see her."

Armegon led the girl back around to the front of the cabin where Ultrecht was preparing to imprison their guest. The priestess was wearing a deep maroon smock that they had created from her original gown and some berries for color. She was also making it quite plain that she was not happy.

Calista, much to everyone's surprise, walked right up to her and belted her across the jaw. "That," she bellowed in total rage, "is what you get when you kidnap innocent people from their families."

Ruk quickly hauled the young woman in with a gentle sweep of his long black arm. He hugged her closely even though there was a hint of a grin on his face. The priestess held her silence, but glared mercilessly at the young woman.

"Ultrecht," Armegon suggested, "I think we’d better get this gal in jail before Cal starts exercising capital punishment." Ultrecht nodded and continued with his arrangements while Ruk escorted the angry Calista into the cabin.

Ultrecht made the last of his preparations, and then began his magic. It was not elemental magic, Armegon noted. The spell did not require that much power. It was simply a custom spell that Ultrecht had researched and developed some time ago.

As the magic formed, the priestess was enveloped by a shimmer of light. Ultrecht reached out and touched her shoulder, she retreated slightly, but then stopped. Ultrecht then withdrew his hand and peeled the light from his hand as if doffing a glove.

The spell was complete. "She can not move any farther away from the cabin as she is right now. In fact as far as the world is concerned, she does not exist. She cannot interact with anything unless it is wearing this glove. That is how she will have to be fed. Only what is in this glove can enter her world. In fact she can't even see us. All she sees is the Blue falls of Garten and pink clouds."

"How do you know what she sees?" Armegon asked. "Have you been in there?"

"Don't get cheeky," Ultrecht replied. "I outlined the parameters of that prison when I created it. I chose that scenery from back home to keep the prisoner from going insane."

"Okay, so she’s secure. Now what?"

Ultrecht shrugged. "We wait for Avery."

Armegon sighed. "He went to Aspberg didn't he?"

"You know him better than anyone else. What do you think?"

Armegon nodded. "Aspberg. What the devil is he thinking?"

"I hope he doesn't run into trouble," Ultrecht said. "His magic is still traceable."

"I hope that sword of his can do the things it acts like it can do, because I think he may need it this time."

Ultrecht gathered his pack and the magical glove. "Let's go inside and see what is for supper."

Armegon stared off into the trees while Ultrecht returned to the cabin and went inside.

"You foolish half-breed," Armegon cursed softly.

"Perhaps so, but he is also very brave," a voice replied from his right.

Armegon whirled and found himself facing an elderly man with a stout build, and heavy white beard. A patch covered one eye and a raven sat upon his shoulder. "Who are you?" Armegon demanded.

"You must decide what you will call me," the man laughed. "But to answer your question, the people of this world call me Woeden. I am a god."

"Not likely," Armegon retorted with a touch of discord. "There are no gods, only the Creator."

"That is true," Woeden replied. "And yet my kin and I are hardly mortal. As I said before, you must decide what to call me. The people of the world call me a god so that is what I call myself."

"I wouldn’t call you such," Armegon replied with a hint of regret for his initial reaction, "but I do see your point. Let’s say that you’re Woeden, an immortal."

"That sounds very much like your own status," Woeden pointed out.

"No longer," Armegon replied. "My comrades and I have resumed our aging."

"Only for the moment," Woeden assured him. "Part of my bailiwick is the ability to see probable futures. I see many paths which you may take that will return you to immortality."

"I don't suppose you’re here to offer guidance in that respect," Armegon smiled.

"And you have wit to boot," the god laughed. Then on a serious note, he stepped closer and spoke. "I am afraid that my business is more pressing than offering guidance. I am here to strike a bargain with you and your two comrades."

"Well Ultrecht is inside the house," Armegon gestured to the cabin, "And Avery is away, but you already knew that, so why approach me alone?"

"Because the less who know our plan the better," Woeden replied. "Your friend who wields the Dawn of Law is about to set a chain of events in motion that will forever change this realm. When the conclusion comes, the gods will all be done away with, or the spawn of the Godking will reign supreme. Either way, the gods of good will have no place.

"So what’s your proposal?" Armegon asked.

"Within a day, your friend will launch a one man assault on House Blackheart. He has already penetrated the city and is sneaking about looking for his mate. When he finds her, he will try to break them out. He will partially succeed, but will need my assistance to escape. He will bring you an object that you will find useful. I will tell you that the key to it's understanding was something you brought back from your journey into the prison world."

"The Blackheart Clan will follow you and attack you. So you need to choose a place to make your stand. That location is blocked from my view so I cannot advise you on that."
Woeden shrugged his shoulder and the raven took flight. "In return for this assistance, I and my fellows wish to be spared from the destruction of the gods should that end come about. We will publicly denounce our godhood and swear fealty to the Creator."

Armegon stared blankly at the god. Woeden had made some powerful statements.

"Ultrecht is going to flip when he hears this," he declared.

"I will leave it to you to tell him," Woeden stated and lifted his staff. His image began to waver.

"Wait," Armegon cried. What if we don't agree?"

The image of Woeden disappeared, but his voice echoed back. "We have no alternative. We bargain in faith. Otherwise we lose either way."

Armegon nodded. If what he had heard was true, then Woeden was correct. The gods of good were in a no win situation. The bargain was their only hope.

Armegon turned and walked back into the cabin. Ultrecht was going to love this.