“I will, Father. Send for me when you’re ready to leave,” Gulteth requested, wanting to witness his father’s victory.
“No, son, you get fed and get some rest. See to your mother and the army. Be certain to keep to the schedule I have set for them. My job will be done in darkness, alone, where I won’t be expected.”
* * * * *
Betrayed. Garret’s closest friend and most trusted ally had betrayed him, and worse, tried to drag Linaya into the deceit as well with a threat. While he roared in rage, a great blade sprang from the king’s metallic wrist as he charged the fallen dwarf. Raising his bladed arm, he swung down, locking eyes with Zorbin in the last instant. “Do you have no honor, dwarf?” the enraged king growled as he was thrown back several feet by the dwarf’s summoned blessing.
Managing to stay upon his feet, Garret grinned at the lesser champion. “You wish to die today, oh mighty Zorbin Ironfist?” taunted the king.
“Nay, but beat some sense into ya, I might!”
Swinging his bladed arm at the dwarf, he watched the bolt of electrical energy extend from his blade and crack like a whip just inches from the dwarf’s ear. Too fast was Zorbin, however, as he ducked to the side and rolled away as Lycans scattered from beneath the behemoths. Swinging again, Garret’s sword arm met the handle of Zorbin’s great hammer in a shower of sparks and the ring of metal. Leaning back, the larger king kicked out, landing a blow to his opponent’s chest before springing forward to catch the dwarf off balance.
Instead of finding his foe off guard, however, the dwarf used the momentum from his kick to spring backwards into a roll before rising to his feet once again. Between them, several dead Lycans lay like crushed insects on the ground. Charging Zorbin yet again, Garret let loose the blade from his off hand, watching it grow and elongate as he crossed the short distance. Raining blows on his smaller foe, he swung again and again as the lightning from his blades crackled, lashing out to grasp ahold of the dwarf’s armor.
His nostrils filled with the scent of singed hair and ozone, Garret feigned a blow from overhead with one arm, and stabbed for the dwarf’s abdomen with the other. Feeling his blade slice through the dwarven steel of his foe, Garret roared in triumph only to find his victory cry matched by a roar of rage as a great gray beast sprang over the wall of the Lycan training grounds.
Retracting his blow before it would be fatal, Garret saw the error in his judgement. Turning to face his new foe as Zorbin stumbled back with blood gushing from beneath his breastplate, Garret squared on the lunging dire wolf. Leaning into the blow that would come with the beast’s pounce, Garret watched the massive creature launch into the air. Reaching up as if to grasp at the beast when they collided, Garret dodged to the side at the last instant and swung the blade from his right arm.
Lightning erupted from the blade, wrapping about the neck of Xanth who sailed past, wrenching the blessed dire wolf backwards to land with a crunch on his back. Kicking the beast in the ribs, Garret quickly grasped the snarling creature by the back of its neck and hefted it into the air with one mighty arm.
Turning to stare into the ashen face of his dwarven rival, Garret held Xanth at arm’s length for the dwarf to witness. “This must be what you want, Zorbin. This is what you have done to me. For your insolence, your lies, and your treason, I hereby sentence your pet to death, as you have done to my own.”
“Noooo!” The dwarf screamed as Garret drove his free, bladed arm up into the back of Xanth, twisting his blade up and through the poor creature to protrude from its throat. Grinning, the wicked king retracted his blade and cast the still twitching corpse of Xanth at Zorbin’s feet.
“Now recall your blessing or die like the beast!” Garret demanded.
“You are no longer my king,” Zorbin shouted. “You be having neither honor nor a heart, and this wicked lot will be the death of you and all of Valdadore!”
Garret expected the lunge, and sidestepped the injured dwarf, swinging his blade around to smash into the back of the charging champion who staggered unevenly past.
“You’re not well, master dwarf. Recall your blessing and I will have my healers attend your wounds. You can live out the rest of your days in my dungeon, cutting up meat to serve to the Lycans you hate so much.”
No reply came other than the dwarf turning on his heel, with both hurt and rage in his eyes. Charging yet again, the dwarven warrior raised his great battle hammer, swinging with all his might in a great arc as his beard trailed behind him. Too sluggish was such a weapon, however, that Garret charged forward, into the dwarf, well before the hammer’s swing reached its apex. Smashing into the dwarf, the smaller man was thrown from his feet to land heavily on his back.
Garret stepped over the fallen knight of Gorandor and pressed one wicked blade to the man’s throat.
“Do you yield?”
“I’d rather die.”
“So be it, old friend. May your god give you everlasting life in his halls,” Garret said as he thrust down on his bladed arm, driving the steel deep into the soil beneath the dwarf’s neck. Watching Zorbin’s eyes bulge, Garret pulled his blade free as blood sprayed from the wound in the dwarf’s neck and trickled from his mouth as he gasped and choked in a sound similar to that of a pig being slaughtered.
Instead of turning and storming away, which was his first inclination, Garret watched as Zorbin shrank with a pop, and stood as witness until the light left the dwarven warrior’s eyes.
“Ashton!” Garret boomed in his blessed form when he was certain the dwarf was no longer living.
“Yes, my king?” came the nearly squeaked reply of the tiny human.
“See to it that he is properly prepared for burial and lay him to rest in the tombs. He may have died a traitor, but his hammer has spared the lives of thousands.”
“Yes, of course.”
Without another word to anyone, Garret recalled his blessing and strode towards and out of the exit. Nothing and no one would stand between him and his goal of cleansing all of Thurr of his brother’s stain, not even those he loved.
* * * * *
Ashton watched the king leave with a purposeful stride that belayed his slumping shoulders. It had taken a lot to kill his friend, something Ashton certainly never saw coming. It was an eye opener if nothing else. If the dwarf was not safe from the wrath of Valdadore’s king, no one was.
Turning to his assigned task, Ashton looked down at the lifeless body of the dwarven warrior. What the king had said was true. The man had saved countless lives, not that Ashton cared. No, he would carry out his orders just to stay on the good side of the king.
Looking up to a pair of the human trainers, he waved them over as Anna crossed the grounds to join them.
“See to it that he is cleaned and his armor polished before placing him in the tombs,” Ashton ordered the men.
“No, don’t,” Anna interrupted.
“But, my lady, it is the king’s own orders.”
“And it is mine that say to feed him to the Lycans unless you want to end up beside him. After all, it was my word that laid him here at your feet. Do you question my ability to have the same done to you?”
Ashton was at a loss. He’d never seen anything such as this from any human woman before. It was intriguing, and amazing that such a small woman could possess such power. Could it mean that the dwarf had been telling the truth and the soon-to-be queen simply wanted him removed? What reason could she have had for wanting him dead? He would have to discover what the Lycans knew of this, for they were all over the city now, hearing and seeing everything. It was like his very own network of spies.
“Very well, Lady Anna.” Ashton bowed in acquiescence. “Lycans, the dwarf is yours.”
Without delay the creatures exploded from the ranks they stood within as a cacophony of snarls filled the air. Ashton knew that no evidence aside from the dwarf’s armor would be left behind, and that he promptly gave orders to the trainers to discard.
Watching Anna nod her
approval to his orders, Ashton promptly turned and strode away from the woman lest she give him more orders. This new turn of events put him in an odd position. Now that he had taken her orders above the king, he was at her beck and call lest she tell the king to look in the tombs. Such an arrangement would not work for his future ambitions. He needed to change his strategy.
Chapter Nine
It had been days since Garret last visited the Lycan training grounds and still he struggled to put the events of just a few nights ago behind him. He had left it to Anna to finish the plans for The Choosing, where Zorbin had left off, and told her of his expectations and desires of the outcome
With The Choosing upon him, he had no choice but leave the castle dressed in his finest, wearing the crown of Valdadore with Anna on his arm. Together they crossed the cobblestone courtyards of the castle complex, eyeing the thousands of Lycan troops all wearing breastplates and carrying swords. The entire way around the complex, Lycans stood shoulder to shoulder without moving or making a sound. For hours, those who had come to be chosen had been gathering in the center courtyard just as he himself had done not long ago. Only this time, there was no Lord Sirus, Lady Karishtala, Vladmere, or even Judilanthaliz to greet those newly come to the city. It was not planned to be a grand ceremony as some Choosings had been in the past. It would not even be the bloodbath that his own ceremony had become. Instead, Garret had something else planned entirely.
Striding towards the canopy erected for his and Anna’s comfort, Garret noted the arrival of Ashton and another of the blessed healers of whom he could not recall a name. Nodding to his longtime friend, he reached out and took the hand of the woman who had come as Ashton’s guest.
“This is Lady Morgana Hasrang,” Ashton introduced. “She has the ability to verify the ability to be blessed.”
“It is a pleasure to meet you, Lady Morgana. I do apologize for the tedious task that I place upon you today, but it is out of necessity that I ask you to check each and every person who has arrived to The Choosing and determine if they are able to receive a blessing.”
“It is no trouble at all, my king. It is not a complicated process, and should only take me a couple of hours, depending on how many children we expect,” the young woman replied in a hoarse, throaty voice. Garret was somewhat taken aback, having not expected such a sound to have come from such a petite woman, but recovering as best he was able, he simply gestured towards the courtyard ahead of them.
“I’ll have them line up and come to you. Those who have the ability but remain unblessed you can send to a group on your right, and those who do not may go to the left. The rest of the blessed should be placed according to their blessings.”
“Very well, my king.”
Garret raised his arm and a lone trumpeter issued a series of blasts near the center of the courtyard where the multitude of children milled about aimlessly. Invoking the power of his blessing, as had done his predecessor, Garret began to speak in a booming voice that carried well across the cobblestones to all ears inside the castle complex.
“Young citizens of Valdadore, I thank you for heeding the call of your kingdom. Today is the beginning of the rest of your lives, and I assure you that excitement and adventure will come to all of you. It is now time to begin the selection process, and as such I require you all to create a single file line and proceed towards those of us under the canopy.”
Without hesitation the masses of young bodies sprang into action in what could only be described as organized chaos. The small bodies of the young teenagers ran this way and that, attempting to form a single line with multiple heads. As soon as the predicament was realized, several of the pseudo-lines broke free, to begin anew, only making the same mistake as the first time.
Eventually, after several minutes, a young man stepped out from the crowd, taking it upon himself to begin directing the masses into a single, uniform line. Just moments later and the procession began towards the canopy in a line that snaked back and forth across the courtyard several times. Although Garret stood well away from the healer who would be sorting his young subjects, he committed the boy’s face to memory. A good leader was something he had just recently created an opening for.
As the day progressed, the line through the courtyard shrank, though the din of young voices seemed to grow and grow. It wasn’t until mid-afternoon that Lady Morgana was approached by the young man who had put himself before the rest and given them instructions. He had placed himself at the back of the line, something Garret thought fitting. Watching the interaction carefully as the boy approached, the king of Valdadore took a few paces ahead with Anna on his arm to hear the verdict.
The boy was too young for a usual Choosing ceremony, perhaps fifteen years. It showed on his frame that he had been raised in a hardworking family. Although not quite yet matured, he was thick with muscle and wide of shoulder for his age. As a man, the boy would be imposing. Garret was very much reminded of himself when looking at the boy.
“Hello, son,” Morganna greeted the boy as she had done countless others. “Your name?”
“Jake Grant.”
“Have you been honored with a blessing?”
“No, my lady.”
“That is unfortunate,” the cleric admitted. “Though you do have the ability.”
“I do?” the boy asked, sounding surprised.
“Yes, you do.”
“But… I grew up on a farm. Can’t even read.”
“Nonetheless, son. You have the ability. Go and join the group over there,” Morgana pointed.
As the boy strode away, the gears in Garret’s head were turning. He knew they already had a handful of young healers, and a few new battle mages as well, but what he really wanted out of the ranks of these blessed kids was to build a new knighthood.
“That’s all of them, my king,” Lady Morgana rasped.
“Indeed. Go ahead and take the mages and clerics to the tower to begin their training,” Garret began. “Anna, would you please lead all of those without the gift to the training grounds. They will all be put to work providing for and training the Lycans. Ashton can see to it that they find something to do.”
“Of course, love,” Anna said with a grin, placing her hand on his chest before departing. Garret watched the two women collect their charges, and grinned at all the misty-eyed boys drooling over his betrothed.
Waiting several minutes until after all the excess children cleared out, Garret approached those that remained to put his plan in motion. Eyeing up the ragtag lot of thirty some kids, he saw it was apparent that they had come from a wide range of backgrounds. Some wore fine clothes and were either thin from a lack of work, or plump from overindulgence. Others, such as the boy he’d had his eye on all day, wore clothes that were worn and fit poorly. There were girls too, something he hadn’t really considered, but if they could risk their lives as mages and healers, why not as knights?
“Young men and women,” Garret began. “It seems that none of you have found a place where you belong. I’d be lying if I told you I had never been there myself.”
Garret watched their faces as they gathered around to listen to their king. He remembered the first time he had met the previous king, and how important the man’s words had felt to him. It was the same thing he could see reflected in their eyes now and he intended to use it in his favor. “I’ve been away from home, feeling lost with no one to turn to, and it wasn’t that long ago. But despite my situation, I found where I belong, and I’d like for each of you to join me. If I am right, and all of you are just like me, we could create the most elite fighting force in all of Thurr.”
“Us?” one girl interrupted, forgetting to use proper etiquette.
“Who better?” Garret posed.
“Why not us?” asked the boy Garret knew would lead them.
“Precisely. Why not?” Garret added. “Follow me, future warriors, as we will go and visit temple row. There is a place there that just a short while ago, was much like us.
No one knew it existed, and it seemed of little importance. Now, though, it is filled with life, and run by a wonder.”
“You mean the temple of Ishanya?” asked the original girl to speak to him.
“I do.”
“But I thought you were a follower of Gorandor.”
“I was once, but he left me alone and forsaken…” Garret left it at that. He knew they would understand.
Leading the young teens through the castle complex and out into the streets of Valdadore, Garret paused as he was saluted by a passing group of Lycans patrolling the city. Grinning, he led the children to temple row, knowing that it might take some patience to see this through in the manner he preferred. Either way, the kids would remain in that temple until each and every one of them was blessed. Ishanya could afford him that much favor if she wanted the demon inhabiting Seth’s corpse dead and multitudes of new followers.
* * * * *
Anna traipsed across the cobblestones, giving her hips that extra twist she knew would get the boys drooling. It was evil, she knew, but if it were the worst thing she did today, who could really judge her? Of course she knew it wouldn’t be the worst. Already, she’d spied both a young man and a young woman that looked absolutely delectable. It had been a few days since she’d last fed, and she missed the taste and the euphoria that came with it. Who better than two teens with no parents around keeping track of them? No one would ask the soon-to-be queen a single question if she selected a pair of young servants for the castle. No one would even talk about it. If they did, they’d be visiting with Zorbin Ironfist in the afterlife. And best, none would even realize the young pair were missing.
Anna smiled to herself, glancing back over her shoulder at the multitude of young, vibrant bodies behind her. They were so naive and innocent. She could almost feel bad for her dark thoughts of using their bodies before draining their lives. Almost. Not quite. They were like a damned feast laid out for the king. Her mouth was watering just thinking about it.
Age of the Gods: The Complete, twelve novel, fantasy series (The Blood and Brotherhood Saga) Page 199