If Valdadore wanted to throw fire, he would do a little throwing of his own.
* * * * *
Seth climbed down the immense stone steps towards the street below, fully intent on creating a new breed of troops from the city’s vast rodent population. Instead, however, as he neared the ground level, he was surprised to see his brother, with arm restored, climbing up to meet him. Garret looked rested and much more together than he had the night previous, but it was apparent that much was on his mind. Watching as his brother came, Seth noticed the stern look upon the man’s face that reminded him wholly of their father and the look he wore when punishing the boys as children. The expression reminded Seth anew of his failure to their father, to Garret, and to himself. He would miss the man who had taken him in, for the rest of his days.
“Seth, we need to talk.”
“I can see that, brother.”
“No. Now I am speaking to you as the king of Valdadore,” Garret began. “As much as I want to rejoice in your return, the new addition of your wings frightens me. You become less and less human each time you return to this city. You are powerful, Seth. Everyone knows that. But you are dangerous. Look out past the walls and you will see the proof of it. We stood a chance in a siege against humans, but not those monsters out there. Those are your creations. So once again I find myself trapped. My kingdom trapped. The only choice I have is to let you carry on with your plans to ruin more of my people, in a hope that by doing so we will all be saved. Then I wonder what the consequences of your actions will cost us in the days and weeks to come. If we somehow survive, where will these new oddities go? What will they become? Like the monsters outside our walls, will they return to haunt us, to hunt us, to feed upon us like sheep?
“Enough, Garret!” Seth shouted. “I get it. I’ve fucked up more often than not, but rarely has it been my choice. I have been forced into impossible position after impossible position, and made to make decisions that no one should make. I’ll take responsibility for my failures. Yes, Dad died because of me. Jack too, and Rose. Yes, those are my monsters outside the gates clawing to get in and kill us all, but I can stop them. I know I can. I have to believe that, or else what is the point of trying?” Seth concluded, fighting his emotions.
“You are not the only one making hard decisions, Seth. Look around. Everyone has lost those they loved. Everyone has sacrificed. All I am saying is this; if we survive this, in the slim chance that we prevail, even then, you and I will never be the same. I can never forget the sacrifices you chose for me to make. I can’t make any more sacrifices for you, Seth. I just can’t.”
Without another word, Garret turned and climbed back down the flight of stairs he had climbed. Seth watched him go, his breath caught in his chest. He was the only one who realized the enormity of what was really happening. For fighting an unwinnable battle against the gods themselves, it was he that got the blame. Nodding to himself, Seth began once again down the stairs. He had hoped that, after this battle, Garret would listen to his pleas and join him in the fight against future wars. Seth needed allies to help him bring peace to a war-torn world. They needed to stop fighting. They needed to stop praying. They needed to stop begging the gods for favors and stand on their own two feet. Eventually the gods would fade away and people would be free. But Seth couldn’t do it all alone.
Reaching the street, he continued on with his original plan. He needed new troops. Valdadore needed his troops. Ishanya needed his troops. It all fell on his shoulders, and he would bear the weight of the world if he needed to. Seth became focused the moment he arose from the dead. No more emotion, he reminded himself. Calculated decisions.
An hour later Seth stood in the storeroom of the textile district, looking over the multitude of cages filled with the foul rats that, since its creation, Valdadore had tried to rid itself of. Yet now, the creatures they had sought to eliminate would become their only hope.
Fortunately for Seth, in the centuries that they had been trying to kill the creatures, man had developed hundreds of efficient ways to capture the creatures in a nearly ceaseless flow. Within the room lay the proof of it. In a single day, collecting the traps throughout the city designed for the rodents, his men along with members of the city guard had brought Seth tens of thousands of the creatures.
Within the storage room, cages were stacked in precariously high piles, each of them filled to capacity with various breeds of the creatures. The room smelled of their urine and feces, but there was little help for it. With a thought Seth snuffed the life from them all, containing the auras within his mind while simultaneously coating the room in ash. Perhaps, at least, there was help for the smell.
Then, again, it was up to Seth to carry out the worst part of his plan. Men and women were all but gone, leaving behind the old and weak, or the young and inexperienced to rebuild Valdadore. With such a circumstance before him, he had given his men the orders to bring him anyone who had reached puberty. In the street outside, his future troops stood. They ranged from eleven to sixteen for the most part, all of them children still, all of them too young to die. Yet again it was Seth who was likely sending many of them to that fate.
Stepping into the road, Seth motioned for Jonas to begin sending them in. Many sobbed, afraid of what would happen to them. These were not volunteers like all of his previous men had been. These were the children who had come to the city with their parents for safety, only to be left behind when their parents marched off to war with Seth and the king. Now they were orphans, inhabiting the streets just like the rodents they were about to be infused with. Seth shook his head, reminding himself that this was their only hope.
Unsure what ratio of rat to human he would need, he estimated and poured the rodent life forces into his first round of subjects. Each of them fell to the ground writhing in ecstasy as their auras melded with those of the rats. Each of the children’s skulls began to elongate, stretching to a point in the front, and dome in the rear. Large teeth sprouted from the fronts of their mouths, as hair began to sprout and thicken upon their faces and bodies. Seth found it odd as muscles began to develop beneath the flesh of the normally undeveloped teens. Their ears grew and grew, becoming large circular additions to the sides of their heads. The children’s arms lengthened, and their back legs grew thick and muscled beneath the fur. A tail snaked out from the base of their spines, which too thickened slightly and curved, giving the teens a slightly hunched look, forcing their heads and thickened necks forward. Just as Seth had hoped, their fingers grew into sharp claws, and toes became thick and strong, also ending in razor sharp claws. He had judged right.
Just like his wolves, it took about two thirds human to one third rat. In this case, the one third rat consisted of nearly fifty of the creatures’ auras. As their changes completed, the young warriors began to rise and appraise themselves and one another as well. This is why he was taking them in groups. Seeing that they were not alone in the change, the children took to it more easily.
One of the boys, perhaps fourteen, flexed his new muscles for a pair of the girls before leaping up to the rafters with a single bound. Once there, he bit through a corner of one of the stout wooden beams, chewing the wood as if it were bread before leaping back down once again. Seconds later, all of Seth’s new creations were taking to the walls and rafters, learning their new bodies in little time at all. Children were better suited to the change it seemed, with a rapid ability to adapt. Though unfortunate, they were his only choice, it appeared the children were going to serve his purpose quite well.
* * * * *
Linaya stood back, holding her steed by the reins. The warhorse had run with a single dire wolf before, but even the well-mannered and highly trained beast was beginning to show signs of doubt. Just a hundred yards ahead of her nearly two thousand dwarves, each with a blessing that lent itself to war, mounted a dire wolf of their own. It was an incredible sight, especially for a race that did not generally use mounts. Zorbin had been an oddity in this respect.<
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She was still uncertain how Zorbin could explain such a desire to Xanth, and beyond that how in the world Xanth was able to communicate that to nearly two thousand other wolves. It had to be a man thing. A grunt here, a snarl there, and wholla, problem solved. It sure as hell didn’t make any sense to her, how it had been accomplished, but nonetheless, she was ecstatic that it was.
The plan was fairly simple. She and the mounted dwarves would rush ahead to lend aid to Valdadore as quick as was possible, and nearly twenty thousand other troops would follow on foot to arrive in about ten days. She estimated that she and the mounted dwarves could make it in two to three days depending on the speed of the wolves, and exact distance to Valdadore.
Placing her foot in a stirrup, she pushed herself up and swung her leg over the saddle, climbing upon her own mount. Looking ahead, she pulled the reins as Zorbin motioned for her to come to the front of the line.
Joining the knight of Valdadore, she took her place beside him as they began at a slow trot, allowing those behind to grow accustomed to riding.
“Up here yer mount won’t be seein’ all them wolves, scaring the balls off of it,” Zorbin explained to a replied nod from Linaya.
Made sense, except for the balls part. Obviously another man thing. Nonetheless, they were on their way to Valdadore. As expected, however, within those first minutes dozens of dwarves fell from their mounts, bruising buttocks and egos alike, but before an hour they managed to pick up the pace with only a few minor setbacks.
As they raced along at a steady run, Linaya exalted with the wind in her hair, knowing she was going home. She imagined running into Garret’s arms, the contingent of mounted dwarves standing behind her, a show of her contribution. Sure, maybe she didn’t do much to acquire the troops, but it was her fantasy, so who would be the wiser?
Smiling, she kicked the flanks of her mount, driving it to faster speeds. Zorbin and Xanth kept pace easily, and behind them an immense pack of bounding beasts carrying armored dwarves rose and fell with each powerful lunge for as far as the eye could see. High above them, the two moons chased the sun across the winter sky.
Chapter Six
Borrik sniffed and sniffed, catching a faint scent here and a stronger one there. He had been charging headlong through the forest for hours to no avail. Every time he thought he lost the trail he would catch the scent again, but could swear that he had already traversed this area before. Turning off the trail of the scent, he instead decided to climb the hillside and find a better vantage. Perhaps from the top of the hill he could perceive a better course to take. Running, still, as fast as his four limbs would take him, he picked out a safe route with his keen eyes. It came completely unexpectedly when his foot caught a root, causing him to trip and careen end over end, right into a bush filled with huge thorns that he could swear had not been there just a moment before.
Climbing to his feet, he extricated himself from the itchy, pokey, and painful annoyance, plucking the thorns from his flesh and fur where armor did not protect him. Droplets of blood trickled from the tiny wounds, tinted an odd shade of brown. Borrik could not recall seeing his blood that color before. Stalking away from the bush, he felt as if he might have hit his head in the fall. It felt heavy upon his neck, wanting to lean this way and that to drag him off course. He stumbled once, and caught himself before running directly into a tree that he had not seen there just seconds before.
As his eyes closed he swore to himself that something unnatural was going on in the forest.
Borrik floated in a cloud of blackness. Looking below him, he could see his temple. The one he had maintained and watched over near his whole life. Now, however, a mutated woman who was a grotesque mix of human and orc stood upon the dais, preaching the beliefs of Ishanya to a large crowd of followers. Then he was gone, floating away on the cloud once more.
Again a scene appeared below him and he stood below himself, naught but wolf and man, leading a charge against the black horde. Ahead of him, Seth and Sara vanished into thin air. The sight still put knots in his stomach.
The cloud carried him away once more and he watched himself riding a giant to the ground, a makeshift spear protruding from within its eye socket.
Next he was dragging the injured king, and spun to witness the impaled form of his master, a god among men whether he believed it or not. Oddly, Seth’s corpse twisted upon the pole it was impaled upon and looked at him, raising an arm to point at him. Not to the him dragging the king, but the him riding the cloud. The whole thing made Borrik feel uneasy, but then it was gone, only to be replaced once again.
This time he looked down upon himself standing next to his master. Both wore leathery wings and armor. Sara too was at their side, and others were with them that he did not recognize through their helms and visors. Behind them stood an immense army, armored and clothed in black, that stretched from horizon to horizon. Across from them stood another army, the two facing each other across a great field of battle. Borrik heard the familiar cry, “For Valdadore”, before once again the scene was gone, and his black cloud opened to engulf him, dragging him down into darkness.
* * * * *
From the top remaining floor of the tower at the corner of the ancient Shadra keep, Sara stood in a shadowed alcove overlooking the return of three of the tree men, who had left shortly after she had gone exploring. Entwined in one of their branches was a tangled mess of gray fur, leather, and armor, that she could not quite make out from this distance.
The tree people lowered the bundle to the ground, stretching it out before securing it down with their own rooted feet. She could not believe what she was seeing. Leaping from the building, she sprinted faster than she could ever recall and with a single bound cleared the remnants of the outer wall of the keep. Sliding to a stop, she arrived just in time to hear the tree things speaking.
“It smells like poison and death,” said the first tree man.
“You mean like the Plague bearer?” a second asked.
“Yes,” replied the first. “I think like she, it is a creation of the Abomination.”
Then the third tree man turned to face her.
“Does this creature belong to you, Plague Bringer?”
“Yes, he is a friend of mine,” Sara replied quickly. “What has happened to him?”
Sara looked over the limp body of Borrik. He was swollen all over, his flesh bulging everywhere it escaped his armor. His eyes darted beneath their lids, and even through his fur it was obvious he was perspiring at an alarming rate.
“Bramble put him to sleep with the sap from his thorns, but do not fret, Plague bringer, he will rise again.”
With that the tree men removed their feet from his arms and legs, freeing him from their holdings. Sara, though physically much smaller than the fallen wolf man, pulled him up to a seated position and, ducking under his arm, managed to lift him and drag him up the hill to the ruins without much hassle. There she sought the shadows, dragging the limp form of Seth’s second in command with her. Once safely in the dark, she stripped his armor, allowing his flesh the chance to breathe.
She did not know how he had found her, but was torn between being grateful he had come, and being disappointed that she still did not have an idea what she was going to do. All that was left for her now, however, was waiting for him to recover. Sitting silently she did just that, pondering what would drive him to seek her out, unless the war was over. Had Valdadore fallen so easily?
* * * * *
Seth spent the day melding children with rats, ten to fifteen at a time. Though most handled the change well, there were those who despised the alteration. But there could be no help for it. Seth’s heart went out to the children, though he could not afford to become emotionally invested in them. Such a bond would lead him to making bad decisions in the heat of the moment, and that could not occur again.
Always he reminded himself, when one cried out, repulsed by what they had become, that without their sacrifice they would all fal
l to Sigrant’s superior army. Again and again he repeated the process, sending the completed warriors to the wall to stand guard. It was late in the day, the sky already growing dim, when the first boulder struck the defensive wall surrounding the city. He had completed some eight hundred new troops so far, but was nowhere near ready for an attack.
Fleeing the building, leaving the altering children upon the floor to fend for themselves when the process completed, he was joined by Jonas.
“See to the children!” Seth shouted, before shedding his cloak and leaping into the air to begin flapping his immense wings. A gust of magical wind exploded below him, driving him up to the wall in an instant. Landing heavily in his hurry, he arrived just in time to watch another boulder impact the castle wall. Thus far, both hits had managed little effect, and so low on the wall, where it was the thickest and strongest, it would take considerable time to create a breach. Seth watched the next boulder fly, and throwing up a magical gust of wind it fell just a few feet short of the wall, rolling to a stop before making a scratch.
Peering into the darkness he could see near a hundred different such mechanisms in different states of erection. Little auras scrambled around the things, like ants upon a carcass. Within hours the war machine would be joined by dozens more. By morning they would all be functional. Seth knew he should do something about the machines. He could snuff the life out of the workers manning them easy enough.
Just then a huge ball careened overhead, its shell shattering as it struck a building beyond the wall. Oil exploded over everything for a hundred feet in all directions, ignited by the very lamps the city hung in the streets for light. Several buildings went up in flames in an instant. From them, burning people leapt from the upper levels, and came scurrying out from the ground levels.
Seth turned to lay waste to the war machines, but as he reached out across the fields, the sky lit up as magical fireballs and ice came hurling from afar, aimed at various locations upon Valdadore’s walls. Throwing up a magical barrier instead to protect the defenders, he could not risk an attempt to destroy the machines that might strain him. Sigrant had planned his attack well.
Age of the Gods: The Complete, twelve novel, fantasy series (The Blood and Brotherhood Saga) Page 129