Duty Calls: The Reluctant War God Book 1 by Bill D. Allen Read Free Book Online Page A

techniques had since been honed and perfected by other sword masters. I was enjoying learning the newer forms and movements. My muscles had lost much of their skill memory, and it was sweet joy to put them back to use.
    I was careful not to look too good. After all, I was a Nancy-boy musician, not a war god. And if the truth be known, at first I did not have to entirely fake my ineptitude. How could I have forgotten so much?
    At first the regulars made fun of me and I was the butt of more than a few jokes. Their laughter didn’t last long. Those with an eye knew almost immediately I was someone to be reckoned with. As I practiced, I felt myself developing quickly.
    In no time, no one could match me, although I let them win often to hide my abilities. My muscles were growing stronger, swifter, and the lethal potential inherent in my nature was becoming honed like a razor.
    It took the mortal way, the honest and hard way. I could have reclaimed all my skill and my power instantly. But with it would come the arrogance of godhood and the power of reckless and wanton destruction. The innocence and purity of sweat and labor was a benediction to me in comparison. And though I tried not to let my skill become suspicious, there were times when I displayed a move the sword master would ask me to repeat and I felt the joy of martial art and a discovery of self that had been so long denied me.
    During breaks in training, I played the lyre and mixed just a bit of magic into my songs. Just enough to help them focus and listen to what their trainers were telling them. It was really no more than any entertainer would try to do--just getting them to relax. I wasn’t brainwashing them with religion and hocus pocus for holy war.
    I did what I could to help those around me in less magical ways as well. The conscripts were beginning to come to me regularly with questions about techniques and styles. However, I tried to avoid appearing to know too much. I had a role to play. I needed to make sure that “Carl” wasn’t perceived as too much of a leader or I would get saddled with responsibility and be unable to have the freedom I needed.
    Some things I could affect on a more subtle level. Our meals, for example, consisted of an almost tasteless gruel. This was not considered bad by most of the conscripts. I gathered that life on the farm had not been good lately and they were just happy to eat. The regulars, however, complained loudly.
    I did what I could to make those meals more enjoyable. I played every night at dinner time and blended a bit of magic there as well to make the meals more palatable. It helped, but not much. There are some things even a god can’t fix.
     

 
     
     
     
    CHAPTER SEVEN
     
    Although the king’s men were stationed beyond the outer city walls, every evening those that had earned the right by rank or by special pass were allowed to enter the city of Tarnon and enjoy what pleasure might be had. They could spend their hard won money to purchase food, beverages or whatever they had need of. I imagined that the gold was mostly spent on drink based on the troopers staggering returns to camp.
    Training with the regulars paid off when Captain Rosten awarded me with passes into town as well. I suppose I should have stayed with Olo and the others, but to tell the truth, I was getting cabin fever, and an inn was just what I was longing for.
    Captain Rosten favored a place near the main gate called the Black Rose. During the day I trained with the fighting men, but at night, after a few songs to the troops at chow time, I was free to accompany Rosten and entertain at the Inn. Rank does have its privileges.
    We had a welcomed week of respite from the panic. For some reason, the Jegu paused after crossing the border in the kingdom. The defenders had no detailed intelligence. Scouts embarked, but none returned. Perhaps the Jegu were building siege engines. Perhaps they were recovering from wounds suffered in previous battles,