Holding the magic at bay, there was no one to thwart the war machines’ attack. Except for the king.
Chains clinked and wood groaned as the portcullis was raised, and the massive door upon the western wall of the city swung wide. From inside emerged the giant gleaming form of Garret’s body, for he alone was immune to the bite of the monsters under Sigrant’s control. With a broad sword in one hand and the shield Seth had created for him in the other, Seth watched his brother’s giant form charge across the fields.
While his brother charged, another giant clay projectile breached the city, setting yet another location on fire. Barrage after barrage of magical blasts continued, but Seth held them at bay. The defenders upon the wall could only watch, unable to do anything about the attack. Seth wanted to seek out the mages and kill them, or kill the men controlling the machines, but if he did his allies would be unprotected. “Sparing lives is all that matters,” Seth reminded himself.
He waited and watched as Garret neared the machines, and was immediately beset upon by the fire breathing beasts they had been warned about when the news had first arrived of the invasion. They were hideous creatures, even from the wall, with metal armor, glowing eyes, and gaping maws. Blasts of fire reached out through the air from nearly a hundred locations, every one of them turning their fiery breath on the king. His skin was like metal, and as such he was immune to most harm, but not heat. Seth watched him raise his shield, but the fire was not magical and as such was not absorbed. Garret was in trouble, and once again Seth was forced to decide an impossible decision. Drop his magical shield and leave his defenders in harm’s way to protect Garret, or protect the defenders and watch his brother’s flesh melt from his bones. If only Borrik had returned, the winged man could fly out and rescue the king, but Seth had sent him away. Again the death of a loved one would be Seth’s fault.
Seth cringed at the thought. He hated the gods for the impossible positions they put him in. Then it occurred to him. Instead of protecting the men, simply make them disappear.
“Retreat!” Seth Yelled. “Flee your posts and take cover behind the wall!”
His order was passed down the wall and in seconds the various defenders began to vanish. Seth bid them to hurry, and dropping his shield after a few moments more he reached out with tendrils of his power as he leapt from the wall into the night. Locating the mages who continued to barrage the city, he found them by seeking their god-infused auras. Their numbers had been diminished greatly in the days previous, and as such Seth gripped them all at once and stripped them of life in an instant before calling to life the magical wind he still needed to stay aloft.
Soaring like the airborne missile that had struck him down just a day before, Seth reached out to the beasts that breathed fire upon his brother. Each of them had multiple auras that moved independently within the creatures. Without time to examine them he grasped at those nearest and stripped them away. Still the giant creatures remained, the fire continuing to spew from their mouths. Seth imagined them some kind of demons, and watched as Garret ran from the trails of fire that followed in his wake, threatening to destroy the king. Swooping towards his brother, he shifted the wall of power that held him aloft and directed it at one of the beasts.
Watching as he glided downward, the metallic beast leaned over to one side, its fire stopping suddenly before it flipped the remainder of the way over with yet another gust. A moment later the thing began to whistle loudly as smoke poured from its every orifice. Then, without warning, the beast exploded. Seth and Garret were both caught unaware by the blast, and Garret was thrown from his feet. Seth, on the other hand received worse than his brother. From the explosion, thousands of pieces of jagged steel blasted out in all directions. One second he was aloft, the next great holes were blasted in his wings, his abdomen, and his thigh.
Seth plummeted from the air, his body mending as he fell. He flapped and flapped his wings but the injuries to them were so great he was falling faster than he was healing. Calling upon his magical wind again he tried to stay aloft, but barely managed to slow his fall. The further he fell the slower he fell, but it became apparent quickly that he was not going to land comfortably.
Slamming to the ground with a series of snaps as his bones broke, puncturing out of his skin in several locations, Seth expected to be set upon, and he was not mistaken. No sooner did he open his eyes after impact, than a giant hand reached down, snatching his destroyed body up and off of the ground. He imagined it was something like this that had happened to Sara. Shifting his weight the best he was able, he was surprised to find himself in the hand of his brother the king. Carried aloft, Seth’s body mended as his brother rushed them back towards the castle. Before even making the massive gate, Seth turned over and leapt from his brother’s hand, taking to the sky again.
Straight up to the top of the wall he soared. Without the pesky mages throwing their magics into the city, and without Garret facing an enemy he couldn’t fight out in the fields, Seth could finally get back to work.
Focusing his power, Seth unleashed a series of wicked green and yellow fireballs to smash into the boulder-throwing war machines. Just as he intended, the giant projectile-hurling mechanisms caught fire like kindling, and became raging infernos within seconds. Out on the field, all of the remaining fire-breathing beasts turned and strode away. Seth did not know what they were, but he knew they were dangerous.
Searching the darkness with his vision of the gods, he was unable to locate any immediate threats. Not that it mattered. Turning back towards the city, Seth saw as over forty raging fires engulfed more than half of the western side of the city. Tens of thousands of the elderly, women, and children fought to contain the flames, but there was little they could do. Seth could not be emotional about the massive destruction. Instead he needed to focus on completing his mission. Buildings were just buildings. They could be rebuilt.
Plunging down from the wall Seth landed lightly and folded his wings around himself. It was time to get back to making his troops. There was no way of telling when Sigrant might strike again, but Seth had an idea what the foreign king was waiting for.
Already determining the wall was safe once more, the defenders were streaming back up the wall to take their places as Seth entered the alley that would take him back to the children who awaited him.
* * * * *
Borrik awoke feeling like hammered shit. His head pounded, eyes throbbed, tongue feeling dry and swollen, and even the smallest movement made him nauseated. Without so much as opening his eyes, he tried to recall just what had happened to make him feel so ill. Much to his disappointment, all he could seem to envision were roots, a tree that seemed to smile at him, and a glimpse of the sky, before everything had went black. No help at all.
Half growling, half groaning, he attempted to push himself to a seated position. His armor was gone. Somehow he must have been taken prisoner. Against his need to see his surroundings, once seated, he was forced to keep his eyes closed as the world swam in circles within his head, threatening unconsciousness once again.
“Today I’ll be of no use to anyone,” he growled quietly to himself.
“That is truly a shame, Borrik, I had hoped you could bring me up to speed,” an all too familiar voice responded.
Borrik could not believe what he was hearing, and opening his eyes for verification he realized that his initial desire to keep them closed would have been preferred.
With pain lancing into his head, Borrik physically recoiled from the blow, slamming onto his back, and roughly bouncing his head off the stone floor. Once again, everything went black.
An unknown amount of time later, Borrik awoke once more. This time around, he still felt like shit, but only his head felt hammered, not his entire body.
With throbbing inside his skull he sat up, relieved that his stomach did not respond with the need of forceful evacuation. Opening his eyes cautiously, he was pleased to find himself greeted by Sara’s mischievous smile. She was en
joying this entirely too much.
“Greetings, princess, I gather we are not dead.”
“No, Borrik, though you certainly smell like it,” she replied, her smile broadening.
“You are in higher spirits than I expected. Who holds us captive?”
“Considering what we have been through, I have been doing a lot of thinking, Borrik. You are right, I am in good spirits, because you will be reuniting me with my husband in death just as soon as you are physically able, then you are free to go do whatever you like,” Sara responded.
Borrik wasn’t sure if he had heard her correctly, or if it was the pounding in his head that prevented him from processing what she told him, but in either case he was utterly confused.
“Sara, I don’t understand.”
“What’s not to understand? We. Are. Not. Prisoners,” she continued emphasizing each word. “And. As. Soon. As. You. Kill. Me. You. Can. Leave.”
Reaching up, Borrik was certain that this was the most bizarre dream he had ever had, but raking his claws across the great goose egg on the back of his head in an attempt to itch, the pain that exploded there assured him that this was reality, no matter how twisted.
“Princess, you will not be dying by my hand. Not today, not ever,” he replied with a fiendish grin.
“But, Borrik, I cannot bring myself to do it myself.”
“Good thing too, cause Seth would be pissed if I didn’t bring you back like I promised.”
Borrik was in no way expecting what came next from the tiny woman.
Like lightning she sprang across the small chamber, landing upon him bodily, plunging her fingers deep beneath his flesh, grasping his windpipe in one hand and shoulder in the other. A wicked snarl split her face where rage seethed from every ounce of her expression.
“We may have history, beast, but jokes such as those could be your last! I may not be able to kill myself, but toy with me and I will not hesitate to destroy you! she screamed into his face, her fangs flashing and spittle spraying upon him.
Instinct, especially his feral side, told him to fight. Kill the woman. Save himself. But his loyalty and understanding proved the stronger. Keeping very still and very calm, he replied the best as he was able with the pressure around his vocal chords.
“I speak true, Sara, he has returned from the dead, though I don’t understand how.”
He watched the hatred slowly fade from her features as her mouth worked as if to talk, but no sound escaped. She removed her hands, and Borrik’s wounds began closing. Stumbling back a few steps, her mouth hung open a moment before she spoke again in a voice that sounded far away, broken, and perhaps a little scared.
“If he has returned, then why not come for me himself?” she asked somewhat meekly.
“He said Ishanya forbid it. He stands with his brother to hold Valdadore Castle, but I fear the king has lost hope.”
“And Seth?”
“Your return would do him much good, but I warn you, princess, his return did not come without a cost. Something about him has changed too, though I do not yet know what.”
“Then we must go at once, how fast can we get back to the castle?
“By wing I made it to the edge of the forest in the better part of a day, flying from before sunrise until nearly sunset.”
“And if you had to carry me?” Sara asked.
“A day and a night, perhaps?”
“Then fly me to the edge of the forest, from there I will run.”
“My princess, you will never be able to keep pace,” Borrik cautioned.
“Don’t be so sure, Borrik, Seth is not the only one who has changed since last you saw him. I grow more powerful by the minute. Besides, night is approaching quickly, if we leave now we can make Valdadore by morning.”
* * * * *
Leading nearly two thousand blessed Dwarven warriors upon the backs of dire wolf mounts, oddly left Zorbin a fair amount of time to think. Throughout much of the day he had remained alert, afraid that they could run into some other unforeseen force. Yet after hours and hours of searching the ground, sky, trees, rocks, and everything else, all he noted were various animal prints upon the soil. The largest of these prints belonged to a pair of great cats that seemed to have traveled in the same basic direction they too now traveled. He had seen the tracks several times throughout the day, and had become quite good at picking them out upon the ground, even bounding at great speeds upon Xanth.
Finally allowing his mind and eyes to rest a bit, he thought briefly about the months passed as evening turned into night around him. Much had befallen him in the past months, but were he being honest he could easily say that among those he was familiar with, he had it the easiest.
Though he had lost many brothers in arms, and his leader and mentor Sirus, he at least was lucky enough to not have lost any family up until today. His uncle Ikor had fallen during the battle with the giants. Two cousins too, though he only recognized them by the emblems on their armor, assuming they were significantly younger than he.
His companion, Linaya, had lost her father, her mother, and now, if they were not too late, they raced to save the man she loved before he too was taken from her. He wanted to come to Garret’s aid just as bad as she. Garret had been Zorbin’s very first friend in Valdadore, and even now that he was the king he treated Zorbin like a trusted friend and advisor, going so far as to trust him with the woman he loved.
Though he was happy to have been given this opportunity, not only to bring aid, but also visit his ancestral home, he was glad they were headed back to Valdadore. Even if it was being invaded by another kingdom. This mission had done a lot for Zorbin. Finally, after years of being an outcast, some considering him a traitor to his race, he could walk among them proudly. The word of his honorable decline to the throne had spread and it seemed the Dwarven nation approved of his decision. The men following him now were not his men, but they had each volunteered to ride ahead and lend aid under his leadership. To Zorbin, those actions spoke much louder than words. If nothing else, visiting his childhood home in this fashion had given him closure. Even if he lived another six hundred years, and never managed to travel to Bouldergate again, he felt comfortable in the fact that his history recorded among the dwarves would be a favorable one.
Nodding to himself with a harrumph of satisfaction, Zorbin shifted in his saddle as darkness settled around him and the thundering army behind him. He would lead the men to the best of his ability. Urging Xanth to slow slightly, the Dwarven knight of Valdadore planned to press on through the night at a reduced pace for the safety of his men. If any of them were to die, it should be in battle, not falling from a mount.
Chapter Seven
It was late in the night, only hours from morning, when Seth melded the last of his drafted child troops with the large species of rats that were an abundant commodity within Valdadore. Though they were still children at heart, his newest troops had taken on many aspects of the creatures that he blended their life forces with.
Like the vampires they would be facing, Seth’s new troops could jump unbelievably high. Like their enemies, they too could climb vertical surfaces. Their night vision was vastly improved as well. They were stronger, faster, and more agile than their human counterparts. In fact, they had exceeded most of Seth’s hopes in many ways. Whereas the bloodthirsty troops belonging to Sigrant could bite and infect someone, these new hybrids could chew through concrete. So strong were their jaws and teeth that they could literally snap bones with a single bite, or hang from their mouth like the dogs some trained to fight in pits for sport.
The process had been an odd one for Seth. Changing children was difficult for him. It felt more than a little immoral. Many of the children came into the room with him frightened out of their minds. Seth had arranged for them to hear that perhaps he was a god, and everyone in the presence of a god should be frightened as far as Seth as concerned. Nonetheless, even after he told them that he served Ishanya, as he had sworn an oath to do, so
me of the new feral troops came to accept him as their deity. Others accepted Ishanya, and the vast majority left the transformation not sworn to any god. Seth was satisfied with the results.
Thanking Jonas for ‘spreading the good word’ for him before the kids had entered, he stepped out into the darkness that was rapidly becoming day once more with yet more to do. The night previous he had sent a request to the temple of Ishanya here within the city. From its patrons he sought the donation of a few thousand copper coins. Beyond that he requested that each coin have a hole punched in it and be placed on a cord like a medallion.
The necklaces had been delivered less than two hours later, the following of Ishanya having spread like a disease in the last months. Rounding the corner of the building, Jonas following in his step, he greeted the remainder of his wolf troops and grinned, satisfied with what they had done. Before him stood a table, probably confiscated from a merchant. Upon the table the coins on strings had been carefully laid out so as to not tangle with one another. The task had obviously been tedious, but they had painstakingly completed it to make his job easier.
Deciding upon the exact process he would use, Seth waved his hand over the table and the thousands of coins changed in the wake of his hand. Each of them instantly smoothed, and upon them the sigil of a wolf head appeared before the coins turned black as night, the various colored cords changing color as well.
Beyond the table and the wolves, every one of his new rat hybrids stood and as the coins changed they ooh’d and aah’d. But that was only the beginning of what he had in store. In the hours of changing the children into beasts, he had come upon an idea. Usually when imbuing something, he had to carefully, painstakingly draw out a thread of power from himself and form it into invisible runes, which he then placed upon an item or person before infusing the rune with power to sustain the effect he wanted it to have. But repeating the same process time and again with the children had made him wonder at the possibilities of a more practical way of imbuing a vast number of items at once.
Age of the Gods: The Complete, twelve novel, fantasy series (The Blood and Brotherhood Saga) Page 130