Duty Calls: The Reluctant War God Book 1 Read Online Free PDF Page B

murder holes.
    They had been hard at work on the grounds before the gates. A series of pits filled with sharpened sticks protected the approach as well as many long simple trenches.
    Yes, the defenders knew a thing or two. I just wasn’t sure it would help them much. A lot depended on the quality of the fighting men, and I supposed I would soon see if they were all as charming as the sergeant.
    “I’m sure we’ll be okay,” said the man behind me.
    I turned and noticed the man for the first time. He looked to be a farmer. Skinny, tanned, and aged beyond his years. I’d say he was probably twenty-five, but he looked forty. His cotton tunic was thin, torn and dirty.
    “What?” I asked.
    “I said I’m sure we’ll be okay. They need all the help they can get. I brought my wife and family. I thought we would be better protected here. She’s in town with her sister. My brother-in-law is a tailor, very rich. She and the kids will be well cared for.”
    I smiled and nodded absently. “Good for you.”
    “I don’t mind fighting. I’ve got them to protect, you see.”
    “I hope you get the chance, partner. From the looks of things you may be doing more digging than fighting.”
    “No matter. I’ll do my part either way. The name’s Olo.” He extended his hand and smiled.
    I shook it. “Carl. Good to meet you. You seem to be in a pretty cheerful mood.”
    “Scared shitless, but what are you gonna do?”
    Olo began to grow on me. He had the right attitude. “How did you get stuck in chains?”
    “Uh, well. I didn’t mind volunteering my sword arm, but I didn’t like giving up my coppers.”
    “I understand. I think it might be healthier to just write them off as taxes.”
    He nodded in agreement.
    Our column stopped in front of the tent. My friend the sergeant walked into the tent and returned with another man, obviously the captain.
    He was tall and broad shouldered with an intelligence in his eyes that was so lacking in the sergeant. He was shrewd, this one. He wore his jet-black hair tied back in a tight queue. The sword at his hip was simple and well used. He had the gift of natural leadership. I saw how the faces of the soldiers around him brightened as he walked among them. They seemed to draw strength from him like trees from the sun. He would have been a general in any army I created.
    He looked at us prisoners and nodded, said a few words to the sergeant and went back into his tent.
    One by one, each prisoner, starting at the end of the line, was separated from the chained group and led into the tent. Most who left, exited the tent as free men, free at least to fight and die as conscripts. They bowed, and thanked the captain tearfully.
    But some men had to be dragged away by others, leaving a trail of blood. These, they threw onto a pile of dry brush.
    Good idea, that. Make sure to burn the corpses. No sense in leaving any extra rotting ammunition for the catapults to fling into the city later. Although, the sad truth was there would be plenty more when the time came.
    The other prisoners were getting nervous. Even Olo had paled considerably and his smile had become strained since he spotted the pile of corpses. Being immortal, all I worried about was the pain involved. They might slit my throat, tear out my heart, whatever. I wouldn’t die, but it hurt like a mother. Sometimes, the healing hurt worse than the original wound.
    Still, my pain was a choice—perhaps a stupid one. I could, at any moment reach into the ether and withdraw that which was my right to carry—the Bright Sword of War and the Armor of Brilliance. While wearing these arcane magical items I was immune to pain, incredibly strong, and impossible to harm by mortal means. Unfortunately, I also became an egotistical asshole like the rest of my family. Absolute power corrupts, blah, blah, blah. The longer I stayed away from exercising my powers as war god, the more human I became. Also, the more adamant I became about staying away from