Bloodlord
Soulguard: Book 3
Christopher Woods
Cover Art
Derrick Gallagher
Part One
Beliniea rounded the corner as she heard Joran's voice.
"The Prophet is coming!" the boy yelled, "He will speak in the square."
Bel grabbed the boy's arm as he was running by, "Did you say the Prophet? He is a myth. No one can stand up to them. They're killed on sight."
"No, Bel," the boy said earnestly, "Pitre saw him at Kel'Doran."
"Pitre is a crazy old man, boy," she said with narrowed eyes, "You're going to get in trouble of you keep this up."
He pulled from her grasp, "I'm not lying Bel! He's almost here. You just wait and see! He's real!"
The boy turned and ran down the street yelling his news at the top of his lungs. Bel shook her head sadly. He would be in front of her father before the day was out. Guserd wouldn't...couldn't let this boy draw the attention of their Kresh masters. They would slaughter whole villages without any sort of warning.
Could it be true, though? Was there a man who stood and killed Kresh? She knew they could die. She had seen it three cycles ago when the Kresh'Far fell from the Escarpment. It fell so far. When she had found it, it was squirming around. All of its bones had been broken and it was in an immense amount of pain.
"Kill me," it had uttered, almost too quiet to hear. But Bel had heard it. When she shoved her dagger into its left eye into its brain she saw the life leave its other eye. They can die.
But it had lived through such a fall. How could one man defeat such as that? The Prophet had to be a myth.
She heard the ruckus at the far end of the street and turned to find herself looking at a man striding down the street toward her. He wore a flowing black robe that barely cleared the ground.
Bel saw his right hand as he strode by. It had scars along the back of it, burn scars. She couldn't tell how far they reached up his arm. The robe covered too much.
Bel stepped forward and joined the growing crowd of people following him down the street.
"Prophet..."
"Killed hundreds..."
She grimaced as she heard the comments. He probably had done something like she had and made it all into some grand story.
He stopped in the center of the square and turned to the crowd of people following him.
"Good day, friends," His voice was deep but Bel couldn't take her eyes from his face. His eyes were so vibrant, like they barely contained all of the life within them. They seemed to burn with a fire from the inside.
"I come to you today to tell you about what is coming," His voice carried to all corners of the square, yet he didn't yell.
"Freedom approaches," he said, "That is not a word many here know anything about. Freedom has been taken from you long before any of you were even born. But I tell you, here today, you will see it again. Within your lifetime, you will see that freedom."
"Mister," Bel cringed as she heard her father's voice, "You endanger this whole community to spout this nonsense. We can't allow you to continue. I've heard this term, Freedom. I hear it from the ones taken from the Doran Colony. But they all find that it is an illusion. Even they are not free. The Kresh mass to extinguish that colony as we speak."
"They will try," the Prophet returned, "They face something they have never seen before when they try to destroy Doran colony. You have heard rumors of Rash'Tor'Ri? Of life Ender?"
"Scary stories told to Kresh children!"
The Prophet's laughter rolled across the square.
"Life Ender is not a fable, nor a Myth. He is not a God, nor is he a Devil. He is a man. Yet he is a man unlike any man you have ever seen. Six Lunar cycles back, the Kresh sent a force to that colony. There is a man among you who witnessed that event. His name is Pitre, I believe."
Bel watched old Pitre stand up. Her eyes widened as the Prophet smiled and motioned for Pitre to come forth.
"Will you kindly tell them what you saw, Elder?"
"I will, Prophet," Pitre said, "I saw so many Kresh they covered the whole plain. There were Kresh'Far, Kresh'Sor'An, Kresh'Ma'Nar, and even a Kresh'Farrara'Ti. They passed through the gate to Doran."
"Then what did you see?" the Prophet asked softly.
"They continued through the Gate for a long time until there was a great burst of some hellish fire from the gate and in a few moments, Kresh'Sor'An came back through the gate."
"And how many of them were there?"
Pitre hung his head, "I can only count to ten, Prophet. But I counted to ten four times and then to five once."
The Prophet glanced across the crowd.
"There are about twice that amount standing here today. And Pitre, what sort of shape were these forty five Kresh'Sor'An?"
"They were burned, badly, Prophet. And they were afraid."
"They were afraid!" the Prophet's voice boomed, "Do you know what they were afraid of? I do. On the other side of that gate stood Life Ender. And when he has stopped the Kresh from coming for his world, he will come here. He will come to set this world free!"
Bel was mesmerized by the Prophet. There were no more attempts to stop him from speaking. It seemed that he had mesmerized the whole village.
"And so we are back to that word you really do not understand. Freedom. Freedom is the right to choose your own destiny. The right to live without the fear of being killed out of hand because you don't agree with your masters. Freedom means, no one is another's master. This is what freedom is, my friends."
The Prophet stopped and raised his fiery eyes toward the horizon. They narrowed as he saw or sensed something.
"They are coming," he said.
He stepped forward and the crowd parted in front of him. He walked up the street toward the north.
"Hide as best you can, friends," he said, "Kresh are coming."
The words registered on the crowd and there was pandemonium. The villagers scrambled for their homes or anywhere they could hide. Wails filled the air for they knew what it meant when Kresh came to the villages. Slaughter would follow.
Beliniea drew the dagger from its hidden sheath. She would not die fleeing the Masters. She would fight to her last breath. She wished that the rumors of the Prophet could have been true. But now all that was left was to die with pride. She looked to her left to find her father standing with a similar blade in his hand. Along with them stood seven others of the villagers, all of which Bel knew well.
The Kresh came over the horizon and Bel saw that there were hundreds of them. She held back the fear and tears that she wanted to let loose. She would die as a woman, not a sniveling child.
"Freedom," boomed the voice of the Prophet as he strode toward the Kresh, "Freedom is not cheap. It is paid for in blood! Our blood or theirs!"
She saw his hands unclasp the robe at his neck. A thrill ran through her at the utter bravery of this man. He wasn't like any other she had ever met. He could have run the other direction. He had no family here, no one that he must protect. Yet he strode toward the horde of Kresh'Far that neared the edge of the village. Could the rumors really be true?
"Today!" his voice boomed as he flung his arms wide and the robe flipped backward and rippled toward the ground.
Bel could see the burns along his right side and over his arms. His trousers covered his lower body but she could see the burns extending to his waistline and knew they went further.
She gasped as flames seemed to spring from within the Prophet and flow across his body.
"Today, that price will be paid in their blood!" he roared and grasped the hilts of a pair of blades strapped in crossing sheaths on his back.
He drew these
blades that sprang to fiery life and launched himself toward the Kresh. He moved so fast, she could hardly see him. Then she felt something jar her insides. Her teeth hurt, and her brain seemed to vibrate.
THRUUMMM!
Fire exploded in front of the Prophet and it seemed as if the world would burn away in front of him. Kresh were incinerated. Ashes filled the sky and she heard something that sent a great surge of satisfaction through her whole being.
She heard the screams of terror from those that had terrorized her people as long as she could remember.
Chapter 1
I awoke abruptly. I'd been dreaming but I couldn't remember exactly what it had been. Sometimes it's like that. Sometimes my dreams are so vivid, they plague me and other times they just fade away.
I looked to my left to see my angel lying peacefully beside me, a curl of her hair dangling across her forehead. I almost feel human when I'm with Lyrica. She doesn't have the fear I see in almost every other person with which I deal.
She always tells me that I see fear because that's what I look for. I can't help that it's what my eye perceives first.
"She could be right," I muttered as I eased out of the bed.
I walked quietly to the window, and looked outside at the garden growing outside our house in Oklahoma. The Romanians I had marked, when we had taken the Shak'Tar base, had built this for us to stay in whenever we could get away.
The garden looked so peaceful, and it was hard to believe we had just been in a huge battle earlier this year. The Kresh had been distressingly quiet for six months. I knew they were still there, as my new Soulstream would fluctuate when the gates opened periodically. But there were no attacks from them as of yet.
I saw several children run through the yard of the next house. They stopped and waved at me, and continued on their way. It was a little disconcerting because they couldn't physically see me but knew exactly where I was. I can't help but feel guilty for the Mark that I had forced on these people.
Lyrica stirred behind me and I turned to her, I saw beautiful green eyes and a smile.
"Mornin', Beautiful", I said with a smile.
"Morning, my love," she answered.
It sends a chill through me when she says that to me. She is my Soulmate, my other half, the better half I'm certain.
"What say we go join the others for breakfast?" I suggested.
"It figures," she muttered, "always hungry."
"I'm not always hungry," I said, "Just when I'm awake."
Meals were a grand thing to the Romanians. They would all come together and eat. There would be enormous amounts of food, and everyone would be there. My escorts tend to love it when we come here. It's probably some of the best food that can be had, and they are treated like old friends by all who live at the Farm.
It bothers me a little that they treat me and Lyrica as royalty. But there's nothing I can do about that. They'd be offended if I ordered them not to.
They're in better shape, by far, than they would have been as slaves of the Kresh where I had found them. Or even worse, used as fodder for the Kresh armies.
"I'm pretty sure you're hungry in your sleep too," she answered, "Let's go put something in your bottomless pit."
"I hope they made that sausage they had yesterday," I said, "and the skinny pancakes."
"Crepes," she said.
"Those were awesome."
This was bound to be much more fun than the meeting I was scheduled to have with Paige, later on. I was going to have to bring up a subject that might be considered a problem to the Soulguard. It was too late to do anything about it. I'd already set everything in motion, and it would happen regardless of the approval of the Archmage and Council.
But, for now, I would just enjoy a meal with my "family".
***
"Hello, Colin," Paige said as I walked into her office, "How is Lyrica? And your Romanians, how are they?"
"Lyrica is fine and the Romanians have made the Farm completely self-sufficient. They even have a pretty good profit margin. They keep it in trust for me, although, I tried to give it all to them. So it just keeps growing. Maybe it can carry them through if we have some bad years."
"That's good," she said, "Gregor should be here in a moment. Then you can tell me what you've been so tight lipped about."
Gregor entered the office and sat down beside me.
"Colin," he said with a nod, "How are you?"
"I'm good," I said, "How are the politicians treatin' ya?"
"Every now and then they get rambunctious but they straighten up when I tell them you're going to have to come deal with things if we can't settle our differences."
I heard a snort and a chuckle from the other side of the desk.
"They're just afraid he'll blow something up," Paige said.
"I have no idea what you're talkin' about," I said.
"Sure you don't," She said, "Now, tell me what it is that you didn't want to say over a phone."
"OK, here goes. Four months ago Warren acquired a company for me that specialized in programming. They were tasked with creating a system that we can use to mimic the brain that it's connected to. They've succeeded. I've put into motion the building of a weapon that uses this system. I'm at the stage where I need to put some Mages in the building of these weapons, which would need the approval of the Archmage."
"And just what do you need Mages for in the building of these weapons?" Paige asked with eyes narrowed.
"Source weapons," Gregor answered before I could.
Paige let out a long slow breath. I could see she was angry without even looking at her aura.
"You didn't think this was something you should have run through the Council before building?"
"The Council may have said no," I answered.
"With good reason!" She returned, "Do you realize how dangerous it is to put that kind of power out there for just anyone to use?"
"Do you realize how dangerous it would be not to?" I answered with a little rage leaking through my mental walls. "I plan to arm the world. There are millions of Kresh over there, and they want us dead. We've been lucky so far, but how long will it last 'til they come through a gate we know nothing about? How many do you think they could get over here before we could mount any sort of defense?"
"You automatically assume the council would say no..."
"No I didn’t," I answered, "but I didn’t need the council behind this until I found out it would work."
Gregor had been quiet through most of this but when he spoke, it was right to the point.
"We need them."
Paige had opened her mouth to say something else to me but stopped and looked at Gregor.
He continued, "I am one of the 'Old Guard' you might say. We've protected our secrets for a thousand years. It's hard to change that sort of thinking but we must. This is a new war they are bringing to us. They'll keep draining our numbers until there are no Soulguard left to face them. The world needs weapons to use that are efficient and effective. We can't be everywhere and with weapons like that the world can, possibly, defend itself."
Paige was quiet for a time, "The weapons don't bother me as much as someone not trusting us to make the right decision."
She looked at me with eyes narrowed.
"Paige, I'm bringing it to you right now."
This attitude was grating on me. I'd spent the majority of the fortune that Warren had built for me on this project.
"I needed something solid to bring to you and I have it now. I'm here now because I do trust you to make the right decision about supporting the project. Frankly, I have no idea why you're so pissed off. When have I ever done anything like this without the welfare of our world at the top of my list of reasons why?"
"Because you hid it from me!"
She was hurt because she thought I didn't trust her. She had always been one of the few people I could trust to have my back and she thought I didn’t trust her any more.
"I wasn't hiding it," I s
aid, "I haven't mentioned it to anyone. Anyone. Warren is the only person who fully knows what we are doing. I needed something that works before telling anyone about it. You and Gregor are now the third and fourth person to be brought into it. You have no reason to believe that I don't trust you. Now that I have a working prototype, I need to bring it out in the open. You were always the first person on my list of people to tell about the project."
I could see her anger subsiding and knew she would be alright. She'd honestly thought I didn’t trust her anymore. The job was weighing on her more and more. I could see how that would happen. Everything tends to be the fault of the one in charge. She was catching all the grief from every angle pertaining to the Soulguard, and there was a lot of it.
"So how about you let us see these weapons of yours?" Gregor suggested.
"I have to meet with Marco and Polo," I said, "Then we can get to that. I have to get them to let me get some volunteers to learn to use em."
"I can't believe you call two generals, Marco and Polo," Paige said.
"They actually liked the names and started usin' them on each other. They even say it like the game when they see each other. 'Marco!' 'Polo!'. It's great."
She just shook her head.
Chapter 2
I sat in my office waiting on Seran Polomo and Marcus Stratton. Both of them were National Guard Generals, Polomo or "Polo" was Army National Guard, while Marcus or "Marco" was Air National Guard. Both of them were veterans and both of them were my friends.
I was positive they would be thrilled to know about the new weapons, right up to the moment they found out I would be distributing them to every nation in the world. Then there might be a little friction. I didn't expect the friction from them, personally, but from the government when they found that they wouldn't be in control of the whole thing.
That's what had been our biggest struggle throughout the last six months since Second Kansas. Just another thing left for Paige and Gregor to deal with amongst the politicians.
Bloodlord (Soulguard Book 3) Page 1