Realms of Valen - Blasphemous Crusade (War of the Gods Book 2)

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Realms of Valen - Blasphemous Crusade (War of the Gods Book 2) Page 6

by Rickk Berry III


  “What do you mean my coming was foretold?” Kaidia asked, suddenly curious.

  “The city's seer said you would come,” the male kyrian answered with a shrug.

  “May I see this clairvoyant?” the mercenary inquired.

  “Of course, Mistress Kaidia,” Tian-Vere replied and gestured down the street where a sign hung above the doorway of a two-story building that sat on the corner of the main street and a smaller side street. The sign had a cat's eye painted on it, the slitted pupil seeming to peer at Kaidia.

  “Thank you, Tian-Vere. Stable my horse, if you'd please. Then bring my pack to the seer's,” Kai responded with a faint smile and a nod of her head. The kyrian returned the nod, took the horse's reins and walked off, leaving the god to her own devices. Kai walked along the street and found herself in front of the door in no time. Kaidia had always been skeptical of clairvoyants and fortunetellers. Most were con artists. Some had a true ability, though, and the god was intent on testing this particular seer. She pushed the door open and stepped inside.

  The first thing Kaidia noticed was the powerful scent of incense that nearly knocked her backward. She pushed the door shut and peered around the room. There appeared to be just a single room with a staircase on the far wall that led upstairs. A roaring fire in the fireplace was the only light and the cause of sweltering heat. It was the middle of the day, in the height of summer, and already too warm for Kai's liking. The additional heat from the fire made the temperature in the room downright unpleasant.

  “It is not every day that my home is happened upon by a beautiful god,” a voice purred out of the shadows caused by the dancing flames in the fireplace. Kai looked around, her eyes adjusting to the dim lighting. She spotted a pair of glowing eyes in the farthest corner of the room and smiled faintly.

  “Thank you,” she said flatly.

  “You seek an answer, god,” the kyrian presumed in a soft voice.

  “More or less, I suppose,” Kai replied.

  “You want to know if my powers are true.”

  “Yes. Plenty who claim to possess the power of clairvoyance are liars.”

  “I assure you, god, that I tell no tall tales. My powers to see beyond the here and now are as real as your powers of destruction.”

  “I would like to see for myself.”

  “I suppose I can give you a demonstration if you must have one.”

  “That would be greatly appreciated.”

  The kyrian stepped out of the shadows and into the light of the fire, revealing herself to be a young woman. She was dressed for the oppressive heat of the room in a snug fitting sleeveless top that left her midriff bare and a pair of equally snug pants that stopped at mid-thigh. Her bare feet were silent on the floor carpeted in heavy rugs. She sat down in the center of the room and gestured just in front of herself.

  “Please sit, Dragon God.”

  Kaidia stared at the kyrian for several long moments before stepping over and settling herself down onto the carpet. The pair sat close enough to be within easy reach of one another.

  “Now what?”

  “Just relax and observe, Mistress Kaidia.”

  The kyrian woman smiled, then took a deep breath, and closed her eyes. She held her palms out in front of her, just over her lap, and began to chant. Kaidia couldn't make out the words, but she could feel the tingle in her spine as cat girl called upon magic. Energy arced between the kyrian's fingers and a flickering glow formed between the woman's palms. It hovered there for several long moments before shooting into the cat girl's stomach, disappearing within her. Another deep breath was taken by the clairvoyant before she exhaled and held a hand up under her mouth. A moment later, she spit a crystal into her palm. Kai's brows rose a bit at the sight, but she stayed quiet. The kyrian held the crystal up so the noble could get a clear look at it. A moment later, the cat girl held it out to Kai.

  “Take it.”

  Kaidia wasn't sure of the significance of the crystal, but she reached out to take it from the kyrian's palm. The moment she touched it, Kaidia felt the world spin, then slam her to the floor as the clairvoyant's home dissolved around her. For several long moments, Kai floated in an endless black. Quite suddenly, her senses were flooded. Sights, sounds, smells, sensations, and emotions washed over and around her. She saw moments from her past, long gone and more recent. She saw instances of herself playing with her sister in their parent's large home, her first meeting with Ashlin, and her days learning to work her magic and fight using her sword. There was a sense of warmth and joy that came with those early memories.

  Memories of the bonding ceremony between herself and Ashlin brought those blissful feelings to a high before they suddenly shifted to white-hot rage and cold misery as dark memories drowned the bright ones. Kaidia was abruptly reliving the moment that Ashlin had died in her arms. Then, just as quickly, she was recalling the first fight with Adathir. Every event in her life passed before her eyes, reignited emotions, and reopened old wounds.

  Then things started to become really strange. Kaidia began seeing herself with lovers she had never known, fighting battles she had never fought, and seeing strange lands to which she had never been. Weapons, armor, sights, scents, and sounds she didn't recognize poured over her. The warrior's heart pounded in her chest, her pulse raced, and her breath came in rapid gasps. Her senses were overloaded and her body tense. The assault overwhelmed the god. The images whirled around her faster and faster. The noise of it all grew louder and the scents grew too powerful.

  Just as quick as the otherworldly trip had begun, it stopped, and Kaidia found herself on her back on the floor, sweating profusely, breathing raggedly, with the kyrian clairvoyant straddling her on her knees and one hand, her other hand held fast in Kai's iron grip, the crystal burning hot between their two palms.

  Kai jerked her hand loose and the crystal fell to the floor. The seer sat back, settling on Kai with a smile. Her tail swished lazily behind her and the feline ears atop her head perked toward Kaidia.

  “That was an interesting journey, Dragon God. You have lived with great joy and even greater sorrow. Not to mention anger that would burn a lesser being to ash from within.”

  “You... could see it all as well?”

  “Of course. I could see it, hear it, smell it, feel it, and much more. It was as if I lived your life as well. We both experienced what is to come. I have never seen that far into the coming years. Much of what I saw in your future was unidentifiable. Foreign. Advanced. It would seem that you will live far beyond even the elves of our day, god. You are truly someone amazing, Kaidia Valengaard.”

  “Thank you, I think. Can you get off of me now?”

  “What's the matter, divine one? Uncomfortable with a pretty girl on your lap?” the kyrian asked, her tone playful, teasing.

  “No. I'm just far too warm and I also have other duties to attend to, clairvoyant.”

  “Ah, well then, I will let you go. But you're welcome back here any time,” she purred.

  “Thank you.”

  The cat girl nodded, then slipped off of Kaidia, and even helped the warrior to her feet.

  “I would wish you good luck... but we both know you don't need it.”

  “Well thank you anyway.”

  The kyrian nodded before Kaidia turned and made her way outside, almost tearing the door from its hinges in an effort to get into the fresh air. Outside felt blessedly cool for the middle of summer but, then again, Kaidia felt like she'd just walked out of a sauna. She opened her eyes and arched a brow. The sun was setting, it was growing dark. She wondered, bewildered, just how long she had been in the clairvoyant's home.

  A throat clearing behind her caused the warrior to whirl around, hand on the hilt of her sword. She relaxed when she spotted Tian-Vere. The man arched a brow, his tail flicking back and forth.

  “You were in there for some time, Mistress Kaidia. You look a mess,” he commented.

  Kai looked down at herself. Her tunic clung to her body, soak
ed in sweat, as did her pants. Everything felt sticky and the outside air was quickly losing its cooling effect as her body adjusted to the temperature.

  “It seemed like only minutes passed. I apologize if I kept you waiting,” Kai responded, refusing to comment on her appearance.

  “Not to worry, Mistress Kaidia. I don't mind sitting and letting my mind wander. Let's get you to your quarters. The tribal leaders have all agreed to put you up in the best room we have available in our city. That's the first time they've all agreed on something in ages. Perhaps there's hope yet,” the man chuckled and started walking, gesturing for Kai to follow him.

  Tian-Vere led Kaidia farther along the main street of the city to a rather grand looking inn. It was three stories tall, made of massive timbers and stone. It was a splendid building. Kaidia followed her guide inside and found herself immediately comfortable among the fancy yet cozy furnishings. A room and food here would certainly command good coin but it was no doubt worth it. The wandering hunters and woodsmen who traded with the kyrians undoubtedly enjoyed a night or two here before wandering back out into the forests.

  Following her guide, Kaidia quickly found herself on the top floor, which consisted of two suites that the warrior assumed were likely all but identical. Tian-Vere produced a key and held it out to Kaidia.

  “This is your room,” the man said, nodding his head toward the nearest door.

  “Thank you,” Kaidia said as she reached out and took the key.

  “Enjoy,” the kyrian man said with a smirk before handing Kai her pack and walking away.

  Kaidia arched a brow as she slung her pack over her shoulder, pushed the key into the keyhole, turned it, then shoved the door open. She stepped in, closed the door, and locked it, her mind wandering to how she might present her case to the kyrian tribal leadership and elders. She turned around and looked around the room. She stopped in her tracks, her eyebrows raising high.

  The suite itself was large, furnished lavishly with two rooms. The main room in the front had a fireplace, a bed large enough for five people with plenty of pillows, lush rugs covering the floors, a couple of chairs in front of the fireplace, and just about anything a noble would expect in their room. The second room was smaller, a wash room, no less extravagant that the main room. But none of this was what gave Kaidia pause.

  Standing there in the middle of the room, smiling warmly at Kaidia, were three young kyrian women, scantily clad, and all as beautiful as could be. Before the noble could get a word out of her mouth, the three women were upon her. One tossed her pack aside before all three started undoing buckles and laces, apparently intent on stripping Kai of her clothing.

  “Such a beautiful god.”

  “Deserving of servants to wait on you.”

  “You've had a long day. Let us wash the filth from you, Mistress Kaidia.”

  Once Kai got the gist of what their intention happened to be, she had very little inclination to protest. It would be rude on cultural grounds, after all.

  * * *

  Dosfar led Rykar and Malcade through the city with his entourage of soldiers. People stopped, stared, pointed, and whispered among themselves, but no one was rude. It was obvious to them that Rykar and Malcade were outsiders. Those that caught a glimpse of the ring on Rykar's hand whispered in hushed tones to whoever was standing by their side. Word that the human king of Haelstross was in their city quickly spread.

  The group walked to the palace at the center of the city and were let in without a fuss. Dosfar's soldiers broke off, leaving their general with Rykar and Malcade. Dosfar didn't seem to mind in the slightest as he led the two men further into the palace.

  “We have heard rumors of a vast, terrible army attacking cities and towns, wiping out the shrines and temples, then leaving,” Dosfar related to Rykar.

  “You have heard correctly. They're spreading the word of their god by blade and blood,” the royal confirmed.

  “Why aren't they building their own temples and shrines then?” the dark-skinned man inquired, giving Rykar a sideways glance.

  “They likely have a group, separate from the rest of their army, which will consist of clerics and healers. That group will come in, heal the wounded, help rebuild, and subtly push their god onto the survivors while they're at the most vulnerable. It is an effective tactic, if morally questionable,” the king replied, obviously disdainful of such underhanded tactics.

  “Their god must be weak and desperate if it must resort to destroying everything that has to do with all other gods just to attain followers,” Dosfar concluded.

  “It is a false god, like all others. However, unlike the gods of Haelstross, whose purpose is peace and unity among the races, the creators of this god use it as a tool to conquer, divide, and control people. Its purpose is chaos,” Rykar growled, growing angry as he thought of the disregard for life the malevolent forces behind this rampaging god's army must have.

  Dosfar simply nodded his understanding as the trio came to a pair of closed double doors. The tall man pushed open the doors to reveal a large throne room. The room was easily three stories tall and very open. The room was all but devoid of people. There were only three people within as Dosfar, Rykar, and Malcade made their way inside.

  Two armed and armored guards that were like the men that had accompanied Dosfar. While they both wore complete sets of armor, Rykar noticed one set was that of a soldier in the field while the other looked like a knight's ceremonial armor. Both men had swords at their hips and while they were the same standard type of sword, the hilts varied in style. Anklis truly was a kingdom that valued freedom of choice. Rykar found himself smirking. He liked the idea if he was honest with himself. The third person in the room was sitting in the throne behind the guards.

  King Zathias Goren was a tall, heavily muscled man. He was bald, with a long mustache and beard that blended into one silver mane that hung from the man's face. He wore a sleeveless tunic, leather pants and boots, none of which was armored in any way. The only armor the man wore was a pair of armored bracers. Though he knew them to be enchanted, they looked unremarkable to Rykar's eyes. What drew the most of Rykar's attention was the rather large war hammer with a handle the length of a halberd that was leaning against the throne, head against the floor.

  While he was twice Rykar's age, a betting man would hesitate before putting hard-earned coin against the King of Anklis in a fight. Zathias studied Rykar and Malcade intently as they walked toward the throne with Dosfar.

  “My King, I present King Rykar Vaikos of Haelstross and his right hand, Sir Malcade Cullins. They seek an audience with none other than you,” Dosfar announced, his eyes, both brown and gold, staying on Zathias.

  “I am King Zathias Goren of Anklis. What matter of such great importance brings the human King of Haelstross to my paradise?” Zathias inquired. Dosfar stepped off to the side to let the two royals speak.

  “The rampaging army that I know you're aware of, Zathias,” Rykar stated firmly.

  “Oh, that little issue. Don't tell me the greatest of Haelstross cannot handle that,” Zathias replied, giving a dismissive wave of his hand.

  “It is no little issue, Zathias. They utterly destroyed Sarkos and Corrana. They've undoubtedly attacked other cities, but I'm still gathering information,” Rykar growled.

  “So what do you want with me, Rykar?” Zathias asked, a brow arched.

  “I want you and your army to join with my army - as well as the armies of the other races to fight these invaders. Make no mistake, Anklis will be their target at some point,” Rykar answered.

  “We will fight them when they come, young king,” Zathias returned flippantly.

  “You will lose. The army is too massive. They overran Sarkos; they overran the capital of Haelstross as well. Corrana had mercenary companies, mage schools, guilds of all stripes, and the biggest detachment of the royal army around and they wiped them all out in one night. As strong as your city is, it will fall, old man. We all have to stand together or
we will all die,” Rykar snarled impatiently.

  Zathias' eyes flared at the comment on his age and Malcade wondered for a moment if he shouldn't have done the talking. But Zathias didn't fly into a rage. He seemed to slip into deep thought for several long moments, a hand stroking his beard.

  “I have an offer for you, King Rykar of Haelstross,” the older man said, his eyes locking with his fellow king's.

  “Go on,” Rykar replied, unblinking.

  “Show me your worth in a fight. If you meet my approval, my army and I will march to meet this rampaging force along with whatever forces you can bring together,” Zathias offered with a smirk.

  Rykar arched a brow and exchanged looks with Malcade, who gave a shrug.

  “Who do I fight?” he asked.

  “Me,” Zathias replied, flatly.

  “You do realize that this would normally be grounds for war, correct?” Malcade asked the two kings, eyes flicking between them.

  “Yes, Sir Cullins, I do. But those are the terms I offer and there will be no war between our kingdoms,” Zathias replied.

  “Fine. When and where?” Rykar inquired.

  Zathias stood up and picked up his war hammer, hefting it with ease.

  “Here and now.” he said with a smirk that was all but hidden by his mustache and beard. Before Rykar could draw his sword, Zathias was upon him. The head of that maul slammed into Rykar's armored chest and sent the long-haired king sailing to the side of the room. As luck would have it, Rykar hit a window, which promptly shattered, leaving the young king to fall out of the window and into the courtyard below with a metallic thud.

  “...shit,” Malcade muttered.

  Zathias ran to the broken window and leapt out, landing on his feet beside Rykar, who was slowly pushing himself to his feet. His cuirass was cracked and dented in upon his chest, making it hard for him to breathe. He pulled the straps loose and threw the armor off before drawing his sword. Every breath hurt like hell. Dosfar and Malcade both appeared behind Rykar, having taken a set of steps down to the courtyard.

  “You're a tough bastard. That would have, at least, knocked out most men,” Zathias declared as he backed up a couple of steps, giving Rykar room to gather himself for the actual fight.

 

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