Age of the Gods: The Complete, twelve novel, fantasy series (The Blood and Brotherhood Saga)

by Laszlo,Jeremy

  Within two hours Sara had made a few dozen laps around the defensive wall of the city, clearing its ramparts of invading vampires like so many leaves into the wind. She had felt them begin to arise, not that she could sense their actual awakening. But she could hear the new wave of screams that began within the city, and could feel the power that now came at an even increasing speed. Hundreds had turned into a few thousand and now that number had spawned a generation of tens of thousands.

  Sara had no idea how many people sheltered within the city. A hundred thousand? Maybe three times that? She pondered going to count them, thinking she would barely be missed in the short time it would take her to do so, but decided against it. She did not want to see firsthand the source of her power and the reason for its rapid growth. She knew that multitudes of people within the city were facing savage creatures that had no regard for their lives. She tried to stop her imagination when she envisioned young mothers and their babies falling before the teeth of one of her kind. The thought sickened her.

  Gritting her own teeth Sara knew she had to stick to the plan, and the plan was to kill as few as possible and save all that could be saved. But time was running out. Morning was coming, and the spread of her alteration would have the Valdadorians leaping up to the walls within a short time to feed upon their own defenders. Another generation, perhaps two, and no humans would be left within the city. Time was running out, but if Sigrant had fifty thousand men, Sara was not yet his equal. Just a little more time.

  * * * * *

  Garret stood within what could only be described as a hell of his own. All around him the enemy swarmed, and they came at him several dozen at a time in hopes of tasting his blood. They leapt upon him like wild dogs, biting and clawing as he stomped, pummeled, and slashed the apparently unending wave of demonic enemies. He could not believe the relentlessness of the creatures, so driven by their need to kill they did not give up no matter how many of their kind he slaughtered. After some time they came from everywhere, swarming from all sides and even raining down from above on occasion.

  Though he felt as if he had been in constant motion for several hours, cutting and slashing at his enemies he turned to see the wall of the city only a few yards behind him. The twisted men, infected by the unholy disease carried by his brother’s wife, were a difficult breed to kill. Even with crushed bones or removed limbs they thrashed upon the ground or rose again to fight with unnatural desire to kill. Perhaps it was the killing that made them stronger. Garret had no real way of knowing. What he did know was that if they did not die, the demonic enemy would mean the end of Valdadore.

  No matter how resilient the enemy was, Garret was the better, and with the hours of constant butchery in such a small area the bodies began to pile up. When the change came, he stood upon a mound of the dead, seemingly telling the enemy that he would remain king even if he had to kill them all himself.

  One moment the creatures were behaving as they had from the beginning, the next they did something beyond peculiar. As if Garret was suddenly forgotten by the enemy, they suddenly shifted their attention and turned on members of their own kind. Around him, more than a dozen men screamed in horror as they were beset upon by their allies. The sound was blood-curdling, and Garret stood frozen as the men were fed upon by their own. Then, as if the incident had not happened at all, the creatures turned their focus back on the king of Valdadore, which was no disappointment to the king. Chuckling and hurling insults, Garret resumed his slaughter once more.

  The odd alteration of behavior would happen several times within the next half of an hour, but Garret rolled with the punches and was only slightly caught off guard when the second wave of creatures arrived at the walls to his city.

  Chapter Thirteen

  It was somewhere near dawn, Seth guessed, when Sigrant grew weary of watching his preliminary attack fail. With the absence of light, Seth watched the second wave of enemies come, even while still fighting the remnants of the only slightly reduced first wave. These troops moved faster, much faster than the previous wave. But that was not all that had Seth concerned. Instead, it was those among the approaching wave of vampires that had an ethereal umbilical cord that stretched across space and time into the heavens, where it was fed by a god.

  These were not just average vampires. Some of them had fed upon many people, growing stronger than any of Seth’s troops, minus perhaps Borrik. Others were blessed troops belonging to the foreign king that had been changed on top of their original blessings. Seth had no idea what to expect with this new wave, except that his troops would fail in holding the walls.

  If he did not do something drastic, none would be left to cheer the arrival of the dwarves when they arrived. Then it occurred to him. To save many he could simply kill one! Reaching out with his god vision he sought the most powerful vampire that came with the second wave, watching all around the city for the result. With a slight tug Seth felt the power relinquish its hold on the body, and felt the shiver climb his spine as the power rushed into him. Even with the power’s euphoria-like effect, however, Seth found defeat in the face of victory.

  It had not worked as he intended. Siphoning the life of the more powerful vampire did not simply kill the creature and release those it had changed. Instead, so intertwined were the connections of their auras, that siphoning the one, killed not only it but all those it had fed on. Not only that, but any they had fed on died as well, and so on. It was a tragic learning experience, and one that gave him fear for the future. He had planned on siphoning Sara’s granny progeny to end her, as well as Sara herself, as best as he was able, to try and return her to normal. Not all at once of course, but a little at a time, as there was no way he could handle the amount of power she contained in a single blow. But now, he feared that even if he siphoned a little, the consequence would be the deaths of those who had sacrificed to make her powerful. He needed another approach.

  As the enemy neared the base of the walls, Seth expected them to leap and bound up them like the previous wave was still doing. Without time to spare he reached out again, and locating a suitable target he struck the tainted man with a bolt of crackling and sizzling lightning. Watching the surrounding fields with his vision of the gods, he was able to watch the aura of the vampire depart to dissipate as it returned to the gods, but no others followed suit. Instead, nearly two hundred of Sigrant’s soldiers’ auras altered slightly and Seth knew that they had been cured.

  So it was, that Seth gained understanding. The auras were like vines upon a fence. They wrapped around one another and were intertwined even down to the smallest levels. Pulling on one, pulled on them all, yet cutting one off and ending its life spared those that remained. Though fate again laughed in his face, as his revelry only lasted a moment.

  Within seconds of the invaders being restored to their former human selves, they were set upon by their own brethren to be fed upon and altered once again. Within only a few moments every one of the restored humans was upon their backs, unconscious from lack of blood, as once again their auras began to slowly change. That, Seth decided, would have to work for now.

  Reaching out again and again in rapid succession, he handpicked one target after another and struck them down as thousands of lesser vampires from the first wave were restored to their former selves. The feeding frenzy that ensued brought nearly every vampire from the first and second wave back to the ground to join in on the feeding. It was a gruesome means, but it was buying precious time.

  Seth reached out and fed the immense power of the vampires he had just collected into the woman he loved and hoped to save. Her power was growing vast, and quickly. She was nearly ready.

  * * * * *

  Zorbin saw the light in the sky vanish rather abruptly and neither he nor Linaya could fathom any reason for the change. Though he could see the panic in the eyes of his charge, the Dwarven knight of Valdadore dared not venture a guess as to the meaning of the newfound darkness. Instead he focused on the task at hand, leanin
g low upon Xanth to decrease the wind on his chest and face. Just a couple hours more and Valdadore would be within reach.

  It was a surreal realization, really. Knowing that they would be returning to the city they called home, yet uncertain of the condition of the city or its inhabitants. For all Zorbin knew, though he would never voice it to Linaya, was that the fires had went out because there was nothing left to burn. If he were a man who feared the uncertain, such thoughts would have unsettled the stout dwarf. Fortunately he cared not for guessing, instead preferring to lay eyes upon the situation himself. It was thoughts such as these that were filling Zorbin’s mind to occupy the time when he heard the first rumblings.

  At first it sounded strangely like someone grinding their teeth and then grew louder and louder until there was a great cracking sound. Valdadore would be in sight any minute, but not soon enough to discover what the sound was. Again the sound came and with it the ground trembled slightly. Then, as if they were lost souls carried upon the winds, shrieks and screams drifted to the ears of the mounted dwarves and the wolves that bore them. With ears twitching the wolves sprang forward at an increased rate of their own accord, as if on the hunt for some unknown game. All there was for Zorbin to do was hold on to Xanth and let his mount and friend guide him forward to his fate.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Seth had already killed more than he was comfortable with. He had bought them hours of valuable time with minimal casualties, minus those his own brother slew near the western gate. Sara was strong enough. He hoped. Her aura encompassed an undefinable space, it was so large, and when she moved within it, it swept along with her like a bloated swarm of insects called to dinner. In comparison to Sigrant, she was his better, though just barely so at this point. Given another hour or two she would be able to squash him easily enough, but they did not have hours. Even now, vampires from within the city were seeking the defensive wall for a meal of blood. If the defenders were fed upon they would fall unconscious and all would be lost.

  With his vision of the gods Seth watched the spread of the vampirism disease in real time and watched as it spread, uncontrolled, outward from the city’s center. Hours was too long. They needed to act now.

  Shaking his head, his shoulders slumping, Seth knew that he had to continue killing some of the greater vampires and tried to mentally prepare himself for the task. Tracking Sara’s aura with his mind, he looked in her direction.

  “Sara, you must go now!” he yelled as loud as he was able, assured that her superhuman hearing would be up to the task. It was odd really, the speed of her reaction. He had barely finished the words, and her course changed and she was halfway across the fields to Sigrant’s camp, almost as if she moved so fast she had heard the entire command before it was completed. Was there a point that speed surpassed time? Was it possible that making Sara stronger could disrupt the flow of time and perhaps fate and destiny as well? The thoughts were immense, as was Seth’s mental ability, but he dared not ponder the possibilities, for the consequences were unknown to a mortal. Instead he turned back to the task he loathed, and realized that things had changed.

  Far below him, at the base of the wall, Seth watched the vampires take up a new tactic. Thinking them insane, he watched as they scratched and clawed at the stones of the wall, trails of blood staining the stone where their fingers passed.

  Though they ripped out their own finger nails in the task, after many moments he watched as some of the vampires began gripping finger holds created by their incessant clawing and scratching. Working furiously, the monsters he inadvertently created began to scratch away the mortar that held the stones of the wall together, and within minutes the first stones were being removed from the wall.

  All along the wall, the assault from without had ceased, the invaders having turned their attention to the wall. From below, Seth watched as some of the blessed among the enemy began to swell in power. Then came the attack in earnest.

  Below the Valdadorian defenders the enemy vanished in a thick blanket of fog dredged up by magical means, and from the fog fire lanced through the air to smash upon the ramparts where the meager defending force ducked low to hide from the assault.

  Seth saw it for what it was, of course. The attack was not meant to destroy the defenders, just hold them at bay while the attackers worked down below to tunnel through the wall. Seth grinned. Problem solved. No one was dying. The walls were thick and had stood for centuries, and Sara was fast and growing in power by the second. All would be over well before Sigrant’s forces gained entry to the city.

  With his mental abilities trained on the spread of vampirism within the city, the attackers in their tunneling process, and Sara in the distance, Seth watched the maelstrom of godly power around him. The gods had given the power to the world but now they wanted it back. They waged war on one another. Not openly, yet it was as obvious now as light or air. It was everywhere, and mortals were the instrument through which the deed was accomplished.

  If the all-powerful immortal beings were the ones who pulled all the strings that started the wars and led to the division of the peoples of Thurr, perhaps one of them could stop it as well. Seth wondered if it was possible to enlist another of the gods in this endeavor. If anything was to gain their attention, it would be this day of darkness. A day where two titans of mortals clashed, and one’s power was returned to the heavens. Perhaps he would be given the opportunity to speak to one of them face to face.

  Seth watched the two immense auras, hoping that at any moment Sigrant’s would dissipate.

  * * * * *

  Sigrant saw her coming. She was still growing faster at an alarming rate and just as he had suspected she was now his better. For the first time in over a decade he saw no means to escape this encounter unharmed. At least not alone.

  Calling his harem, the only underlings he had that could understand him, he watched them appear from all corners of the camp in an instant. They were the ones who fed him power, his only direct vampire descendants. None of them was his equal, but each of them was nearly so. Any two combined would surpass him, for he only got a portion of the power they each received, but he received power from each of them making the total of his combined power more than any one of them alone.

  When the dark princess arrived, the result was an event unlike any other. Sigrant watched as Sara careened towards him like a force of nature, a blast of wind trailing her ,with dust and debris rising up from her every step in a swirl that was caught up and carried aloft in her wake. Without slowing and without hesitation the princess came for him, but she had not expected his wives.

  Like a pack of beasts the harem leapt at the leather-clad princess in an attempt to drag her down and they nearly accomplished their goal. Sigrant watched as they bit and clawed at the princess who fought savagely on. So strong were those in the fight that they gouged huge chunks of flesh and bone from one another with their bare fingers, tearing limbs from each other’s bodies. So powerful were they all, however, that as soon as the normally fatal wounds were scored, they would regenerate back just as fast. Before long the combatants were all totally nude, their clothing having been completely destroyed and still they fought on.

  It was odd to Sigrant, that such a fight would appear as it did. If you took away the spraying blood and disembodied limbs and scraps of bone and flesh, the fight looked very much like an orgy. His dozen wives and the demon princess were a writhing mass of nude flesh and long hair that in other circumstances might have been arousing. It would have helped too if the screams were of pleasure and not pain. Well, at least some of them. Watching on at the damage inflicted upon the parties involved, Sigrant wondered if it were possible that any of them could die any longer. Though sadly, it was not a question that remained unanswered to him for very long.

  * * * * *

  Sara knew his face, and with her superior vision she sought him out and found him simply watching her come. He looked confidant, defiant even. Perhaps he was unaware of her power. So
focused was she on her once captor that she did not notice when the women gathered around him. She planned to hit him full speed, hoping she would heal faster and simply be able to dismember him, but plans were what you made while the world changed around you.

  With the force of two boulders colliding, Sara was struck from the side unaware and nearly went down as her spine, hip, and left leg shattered before the blow. Bone fragments protruded from her flesh as she faltered a step or two, though she maintained her control. Pain shot through her entire body before it vanished again, only to return when her spine mended and then vanished once more as the healing continued. Her momentum carrying her forward, her injuries healed nearly instantaneously, but just barely before she was struck several more times in rapid succession. Before Sara knew what had hit her, more than ten women were upon her, biting and clawing but Sara was determined to succeed though she had lost both of her blades in the initial attack. Ignore the pain.

  Fighting just as savagely as her foes, she snapped and clawed, hissing and growling like the predator she had become. Grabbing one would-be assailant by the hair she flung the woman, tearing her scalp away as she was tossed bodily through the air. Another sunk her teeth in Sara’s breast, while another two worked to grasp each of her arms and pin her down. Twisting and kicking, Sara fought her way through the wriggling mess landing just as many blows as she was taking.

  Slamming her now bare foot through one attacker’s head, she watched the blood spray another in the face as she grabbed an arm at random and heaved with all her might. The arm came free of its socket, the flesh and sinew tearing easily away. Using the arm like a club Sara smashed the face of another attacker, a poor girl who looked barely thirteen. It angered her further that Sigrant had tainted such young children to such a degree.