Servant: The Dark God Book One (Volume 1) by John Brown Read Free Book Online

of a blackened log close to him only to disappear moments later. He paused. All was silent except for the crackling and popping of the fire. He looked at the surrounding houses of the village.
    Cowards.
    He’d roust them out of bed, every one.
    Then something moved in the shadows at the edge of where the house had stood. Barg peered into the swallowing darkness. A tall man moved aside a charcoal log, kicking up sparks. It looked like the miller. He reached into the hot coals and pulled something out.
    “Ha,” Barg called to him. “It’s good to see there’s more than one stout heart among us.”
    Foss stopped and began to growl.
    Then the man straightened up and turned, and Barg got a look at him in the firelight.
    That was not the miller. He was taller than anyone Barg had ever seen, but his arms and legs weren’t proportioned like a man’s; they were thicker than they should be. And his face—it was all wrong. He had a mouth that was dark, ragged, and huge. A mouth that seemed to crack his head in two.
    That was no man.
    A tuft of hair on the creature’s arm caught fire. The flamed brightly then receded into red and yellow sparks that fell to the ground. And Barg realized it wasn’t hair. It was grass. Patches all along its arm had burned, some of them still full of dull red sparks. A clump of smoldering grass fell from the creature’s arm to the ground.
    Barg saw what the creature held. It was Sparrow’s scorched leg, reduced almost completely to bone.
    The creature flung Sparrow’s leg aside and began to walk toward Barg. The ashes and coals of the smithy stood between them, but the creature did not walk around them. It walked straight into the blistering coals, over a tangle of charcoal logs, and through one of the remaining fires. The long ragged grass about its legs began to burn and smoke, but the creature did not waver or cry out.
    Gods, Barg thought. Keep your calm. Keep your calm.
    The thing’s mouth gaped like a cavern. Its eyes. Lords, where were its eyes? And then he saw them—two pits all askew.
    Filthy rot. Filthy, twisted rot! Regret himself had sent this thing.
    Barg brought his spear up, took two steps, and, with all his might, yelled and hurled the weapon.
    The creature did not flinch or step aside, and the spear buried itself in the creature’s chest.
    “To arms!” Barg shouted and unsheathed his sword. “We’re attacked! To arms! To arms!”
    There would be others here shortly. And together they would dispatch this monster. All Barg had to do was keep his courage. Keep it like he’d done this morning and not run away.
    The creature strode on as if nothing had happened. It plucked the spear out of its chest, like a man plucking straw from his tunic, and flung it into the ashes.
    Foss surged forward to the edge of the coals, but Barg took a step backward. He glanced at the homes; nobody had emerged. It was just him and his sword.
    The creature strode forward.
    Gods, but it was huge. Barg took another step back, and then he turned and fled.
    Foss stayed back. He snarled, barked, then let out a huge yelp. A moment later Barg heard the dog running. Barg glanced back. Foss was stretched out, galloping for his life. Behind him, the creature loped after them both, a thin line of fire burning up one of its sides.
    Foss passed Barg and ran towards the house. Barg turned and realized he was running the wrong way: he was running away from the other houses and help. But to go back to the houses meant he would have to run back toward the beast.
    Then the door to his house opened. The firelight shone into the night, silhouetting his wife standing in the doorway.
    “No,” he yelled. “Go back!” But he knew it was too late. The creature surely would have seen her, which meant that now, even if Barg were to change his direction, the monster might not follow him.
    “Get the children!” he yelled as he ran into the yard.
    “Barg?” his wife said in alarm. Then her face twisted in horror and she