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

by Laszlo,Jeremy

  * * * * *

  Zorbin arrived in the throne room of the palace just after sunrise, having spent the entire night on the king’s orders to prepare to send envoys all over the kingdom for the third time in a year. Waiting on Garret to appear, he unbraided and braided his beard back again, trying to remain patient for a friend that had been through a lot and needed his support and guidance. He wondered briefly if the king would even arrive, so lost and distraught was the man of late, though his worries were short-lived.

  Striding into the room as if arriving on a magical rainbow that had been injected into his ass, Garret actually appeared happy as he smiled in Zorbin’s direction before plopping himself down upon the throne sideways as if a child. Kicking his legs up over one arm and leaning back over the other, Garret made himself comfortable before turning his attention back to Zorbin.

  “How do you fare, Zorbin Ironfist?” Garret asked, oddly jovially.

  “I fare very well, my king. Is there something that I should know that happened between yesterday and today?”

  “No. Why do you ask?” Garret goaded him.

  “You know very well why I ask, Garret. Now out with whatever it is that has made you in a better mood.”

  “Don’t get all cranky on me, Zorbin, Can’t you see I’m feeling especially well?”

  “Arrgh. Stop toying with me, and tell me what has changed.”

  “I’ve come to terms with what I have lost, Zorbin. That is what has changed. I have duties to uphold, and a future to look forward to. Is that not reason enough to smile?”

  “I suppose,” Zorbin admitted, feeling that his friend still toyed with him.

  “Linaya is gone and I can finally accept it.”

  “And your brother?”

  “Still a treacherous bastard that needs to be run to ground and slaughtered,” Garret smiled.

  “Very well, my king.”

  “So, my good friend, tell me just what duties need my attention the most and together we will see to it that these tasks get completed.

  Zorbin was at a loss for words. Overnight, seemingly by magic, the king had improved a thousand times over. His mood and demeanor had changed, and now, for the first time in weeks, he was ready to turn his attention back to what mattered. Sure, he still wanted his brother dead, but Zorbin would accept an improvement any way he could get it.

  “Aye. There is much we need to do. Although our defenses are being repaired as quickly as possible, there is talk that perhaps we should incorporate upgrades as well.”

  “Sounds good. Tell the masons to go ahead.”

  “Okay,” Zorbin said, thinking it too easy.

  “Those put in charge of demolishing the burned buildings within the city and hauling away the remains are asking for the use of imperial steeds to pull their carts and wagons.”

  “See it done. What else?” Garret said, his eyes somewhat unfocused.

  “The unicorns have escaped their pen again and we fear they may be abducted by leprechauns.”

  “I’m not ignoring you, Zorbin. Can we get back to real business?”

  “I… Um… As you wish my king.” Zorbin was impressed. Garret was back, sense of humor and all. Things were finally looking up for the kingdom.

  Turning his attention back to the king and putting on a serious face, Zorbin was caught by surprise for the second time that morning when the large doors to the throne room were thrown wide, admitting Ashton followed by a small contingent of soldiers and white robed healers.

  “Ashton, it is good to see you this morning,” Garret greeted.

  “It is good to see you as well, my king. And better to see your mood improved.”

  “Thank you, Ashton. Zorbin and I were just sorting out some details regarding the repairs of Valdadore.”

  “That is most important, my king. Would you prefer we come back at a later time?” Ashton asked, his shoulders slumping and head falling as if his pride were suddenly injured.

  “Of course not, old friend. Let’s see what you have brought with you this glorious morning.”

  Zorbin watched as Ashton approached, waving for those who accompanied him to stay behind. The man was false. Something in his demeanor, in his voice, set Zorbin’s hair on edge. Although he had no reason to, he hated the man.

  “I have done as you wished, Garret. I have put our resources to the task and have brought you the results thereof.”

  “In the form of a large blanket that thrashes around?” Garret smiled.

  “Not exactly,” Ashton said with a grin that made Zorbin want to feed him his own teeth.

  Watching as Ashton waved his hand like some street performer, those who accompanied the healer pulled the great swathe of fabric aside to reveal something wholly hideous in its nature and sickening to behold. There, upon a contraption of crudely formed steel and cable, stood stretched the childlike form of one of the pups that just yesterday they had brought to the city to protect and raise. Here, now, one was chained into some sort of machine against its will, and pulled in all directions by cables locked and strapped to its appendages. It was inhumane to say the least, akin to torture, and here the boy stood with a sickening grin on his face.

  Before Zorbin even knew what he was doing, his fist smashed into the mouth of the young healer who reeled back spewing blood and teeth, screaming through his gurgles something intelligible. With a concussive boom, the king exploded from his throne, coming to stand between the dwarf and healer, reaching out to clutch the both of them.

  “What is the meaning of this, Zorbin?” Garret demanded.

  “What do you mean, my king? Look what this twisted deviant has done to those you have sworn to protect!”

  “He has done no more than I have ordered,” Garret said, a firm tone in his voice. “If we are to utilize these beasts, we need them ready to fight. I have charged Ashton with getting them ready.”

  “So you allow him to resort to torture?” Zorbin demanded.

  “I allow him to do his duty as he sees fit, just as I allow you to do yours.”

  Zorbin didn’t dare press further. It was obvious he was getting nowhere. The king’s mind was made up already.

  Lowering his head and raising his hands, Zorbin stepped back from the confrontation.

  “Apologies, my king. I would have thought you appalled at such an abuse of innocent life.”

  “I would be, were it innocent,” Garret reassured him. “Now, Ashton. If I may apologize for Zorbin, can you repair your wounds and explain to me exactly what I’m looking at?”

  Zorbin watched the healer nod, opening his mouth to respond as a crimson torrent spewed from his lips staining his pearly white gown. It served the twisted bastard right and Zorbin thought it would be fun to let the healer replace his teeth just to walk up and bash them down his throat once more. Instead, he simply stood his ground to hear what filth escaped the healer’s mouth. It took little time for the robed man to repair the damage to himself and when he did, instead of turning to the king, Ashton turned to face Zorbin.

  “My apologies if this offends your weak constitution,” Ashton said with a mocking smile. “I know it was not your intent to offend the king and myself. I forgive you this offence, Zorbin Ironfist.”

  Zorbin couldn’t even make himself nod in acknowledgement. Instead, he simply looked on in silence, hoping the wolf child would break free from his bindings and eat the white robed moron where he stood.

  “Now, my king. Let me explain what it is we have done. As is evident, I was correct and my colleague is able to increase the speed at which they age, though she is limited. It took all of her ability yesterday to get this specimen to this point, though I expect with daily use, she will grow stronger. There are some issues, however, that such rapid aging will cause to arise.”

  “And those are?” Garret asked, looking on intently.

  “They don’t learn. A child learns as they grow, but in this process we are basically creating soldiers with the minds of infants. Of course it also means they
don’t know how to walk, fight, or anything else really.”

  “So they don’t know about fear or death?” Garret asked.

  “No. Like any baby or even young child, they are likely to walk into fire if left unattended.”

  “Could we not use this lack of fear to our advantage?”

  “I suppose we could, if trained properly,” Aston concluded, making Zorbin want to spit at something.

  “And what of this contraption?” Garret asked.

  “As you see, its legs can touch the ground, allowing it to move the thing about the room in an effort to teach it to walk like a man. The cables are attached to its limbs on one end and guided through pulleys to here,” Ashton said, pointing at the creature’s back. “Then this opposite end is attached to a weight, helping the creature to grow strong and increase coordination.”

  “And that above its head?” Garret asked.

  “By specific movements such as jumping, walking or swinging its arms in an arc-like motion, the pendulum here triggers the arm to slowly lower. When it reaches the beast’s face, it is rewarded with food.”

  “So it is encouraged to move and grow stronger simply by feeding it?”

  “Precisely, my king.”

  “It is brilliant, Ashton. I want you and your colleagues to continue as fast as you are able. Is this as big as they will get?”

  “No, it is about half way to adulthood. We expect they will be about the size of average men with longer appendages and a wider chest of course.”

  “Good. See that it is done and enough of these things built to properly develop their muscles and such. You have done very well.”

  Zorbin couldn’t believe his eyes or ears. Perhaps the king was not restored. His mood was improved, that much was obvious, but he had been changed by recent events. The old Garret would have never subscribed to such evils. Somehow his perception of right and wrong had been altered. Zorbin could only hope that he would see the error of his ways just as he had somehow miraculously recovered from the loss of Linaya. It was said that time could heal all wounds. All Zorbin could hope was that this new change was a wound that was not yet healed.

  * * * * *

  Anna climbed from the bed and traipsed down the hall devoid of all of her clothing. It was nice to be out in the open air again. Spending weeks in the crypts listening to the king’s pathetic version of insanity had almost been too much. The fact that her plan was actually working was amazing. She had thought it might, but never had she imagined his mind so far gone that he would just accept whatever she told him as the truth. It was too easy. Now all she needed to do was gain some more strength. She had been feeding for months, growing her power with every victim, though she wasn’t stupid about it. Never did she leave a victim behind that would rise again within the city, though had done so in months past, though only far from Valdadore. Those subjects of her creation fed her a steady stream of power, though not stupidly so. She had taught them not to leave others of their kind behind. Instead she fed just as she had trained her progeny, drinking in the blood and power of her victims, before ripping out their hearts. The only difference being during the battle for Valdadore. There, she had been able to feed at will without fear of being discovered, with the princess and prince raising whole armies of her kind and all. Who was to notice? Now it was back to being careful once again. Soon, she would be able to abide the light of the sun, but not quite yet. Until that time, she needed only keep the king at bay and feed until her power increased.

  Tiptoeing across the cold stone floors, she swept into a room down the hall where she had stashed just such a snack to satisfy her desires. Pulling from the closet within the room a young girl, bound and gagged, she threw the girl upon the floor, watching the tears streaming from her eyes. Pressing her bound feet up towards her belly, Anna slipped her head between the girl’s legs and bit deeply into her inner thigh, suckling at the artery there. She didn’t know why, but the blood was always the sweetest at this location. Though feeding still aroused her immensely, it no longer gave her the pleasure it once had. Not now that her power had increased.

  Feeling the child’s heartbeat slow, she savored the blood drop by sweet drop as it wet her tongue to flow down her throat. Finally the heart began to beat erratically before stopping altogether and without its beating, Anna was forced to drain the rest by sucking deeply at the torn flesh. In less than half an hour the deed was done, but far from finished.

  Dragging the limb body behind her by its bound feet, she lifted it easily to the window and pushing the glass outwards she watched as it broke and fell away. Untying the child’s wrists and feet, she removed the gag from the girl’s mouth before dragging the small corpse across the broken shards of glass still in the frame. With her wound thoroughly disguised, Anna tossed the small body from the window, smiling as it plummeted down to shatter upon the cobblestones below.

  Already there was a note in the servant’s chamber she had abducted the child from. There would be no inquiry, and the child would be written off as a suicide. Tomorrow, she supposed, she would have to be more creative.

  With her appetite for blood satiated, the arousal her meal had caused now nagged at her for another satisfaction she would have to see to later. For now, it was time to figure out just what she would do with the king of Valdadore. The possibilities were endless.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Deep below the keep above, in a darkness that wrapped about him like a lover, Seth stood in silence in the room where he had met a god just the day before. There was nothing significant about the room other than it was insignificant. It was empty and devoid of any decoration. There was no life of any sort clinging to the cracks in the walls and there were no secret rooms hidden behind secret doors. It was a small room of nothing and for Seth it was perfect. Though he still found it relaxing, he neither sat nor lay down, and instead he stood in the middle of the room, reaching within himself with his mind and his vision of the gods.

  All about him the maelstrom swirled in patterns and colors imperceptible to the mortal eye. He had memorized his aura once, mapping it out piece by piece and was surprised to find he still recalled them all with ease. His mind was different now. It was vast and sadly he knew he had not yet put it to good use. There was much in the world to know, much to understand, and as of yet it had gone widely ignored due to necessity.

  Studying the patterns briefly, he instead focused upon the reason for delving here where no other could see. There, at the core of his being, was a single pattern that set him apart from all others he had met. Even the great Gorandor shared a similar pattern, but they were not the same. Seth pondered the pattern. All humans had this piece to their aura and yet theirs too was different. In Sara, it was nearly the opposite of his, though had far less intricate parts as well. The closest he had ever taken time to study had been the god who had sought him out the day before. Though he had only glimpsed the god’s aura, it was enough to etch it into his memory and studying that which he recalled from the god against his own he found that they were more alike than he had thought originally.

  Here, in the depths of nothingness, he studied the bounds that held himself together beside that of an all-powerful god, no longer entitled to the claim. Piece by piece he paired them together, matching every detail except for one difference. As in Sara, his own aura was the opposite to that of the god, and that was when the secret was revealed. Gorandor had told him the secret without saying it, but it was now obvious that it was his reason for coming. Seth shook his head. The answer had been there all long and yet he had been too busy or too blind to see it. Whereas the gods and all life they made were creatures of creation, Seth was unique in the fact that he was the opposite. Seth was a creature born of destruction. Where the gods could infuse life with power, Seth could tear it away. Where the gods could create new life, Seth only had the power to alter it or end it.

  Seth stood in the darkness for an amount of time that was unknown to him, pondering the implications of such a di
scovery. He understood now why they had labeled him the abomination, for he was like them but an essence of evil. His entire purpose was to destroy, yet here he was trying to rebuild a city. Was it possible to go against one’s nature? Was it possible to swim against the raging river of destiny? Was it possible that he could overcome the purpose of his creation to become something other than what he was intended to be? Seth sought the answers but none were forthcoming.

  Casting his own worries aside, he reached out to the city around him and watched as the auras there scurried about like a mound of ants kicked by a passing traveler. There was so much life in the world, why would he be made to destroy it? Sara, Borrik, Jonas, and Xander spoke to unknown persons several floors above him, and reaching out further he found Goldenfingers in the company of several females, likely his harem. Further still Seth reached, wondering what his limitations were now, when he sent tendrils of his power east further still. Feeling his way along the path he had recently traveled he felt those in the city he once called home. Crossing the distance between them, Seth reached towards the very castle of Valdadore itself and found much to his displeasure that it lie just beyond his reach. Nothing but empty blackness lay beyond the tendrils he cast towards his home. Recalling his power he concentrated on issues more readily available to solve when it struck him. Free will.

  Gorandor had given him this answer just like the other, only he had been deaf to it. Of course he could go against his destiny. He had free will just like the champion created to kill him, potentially saving the gods. That was what it all boiled down to. That was why Gorandor had told him that Ishanya could not kill him. It was to open his eyes. He could do whatever he wanted with the power he possessed. That was why he was an abomination, because the gods held no sway over him like they did other champions. He was unique. One of a kind. The only one who could create a better future for the peoples of Thurr. The only one who could lead them into a world where the gods were forgotten. Seth was designed to destroy, but could use his abilities to do good too. He didn’t have to bow to the will of destiny. He wasn’t bound to it. He finally could see what it was he was supposed to do. Now he only needed to figure out how he could do it without the gods standing in his way. He would need allies. Of that much he was certain. Time too would be needed to prepare. If the gods were all knowing and all seeing, surely they would intervene to stop him.