“What do you mean, ‘hindered’?” Garret asked, his face scrunching up in thought.
“My eyes can no longer withstand the sun. In direct sunlight I am completely blind, though in indirect light I can see fine,” Seth answered, letting his brother guide the conversation from this point forward.
“This happened because of that final blast in the battle with the black horde?” Garret enquired.
“It did not happen so much in the blast, but as a result of what Sara and I had to endure following the blast. The entire tale I shall relate to you at a future date when there are not so many pressing things to attend to. But know this: I am more powerful now than I was then, only I must shield my face from the sun,” Seth proclaimed with a smirk.
“What of you, Sara? Has the same befallen you?” Garret asked, allowing Sara to tell her own portion of the tale.
“I wish it were so, Garret,” Sara began, her face becoming awash with pain briefly as she recalled her most recent foray into the light. “I am afraid that my condition is much worse than that of my husband.”
“How so?” Garret asked.
“No portion of my flesh can be exposed to the sun under any circumstances,” she explained slowly. “If direct sunlight falls upon my skin, within an instant it burns away, then my muscles and vessels below that, finally even my bones.”
Linaya gasped audibly.
“But Sara, how then do you intend to fight?” Garret asked perplexed, though continued without an answer. “You made it quite obvious you do not plan to sit this battle out, but if you cannot withstand the very sun that lights the skies, in what capacity do you intend to help?”
Without so much as an instant of hesitation, in the fraction of a blink of an eye, Sara lifted her body using the arms of her chair and slid her legs beneath her. Without pausing to think, working on the instincts of her new body alone, Sara sprang with all her might. The chair crashed against the wall behind her as her lithe body, still fully armored, sailed like an arrow across the chamber over Garret’s head. As she flew, Sara twisted in the air, and as she made contact with the opposite wall, she used her legs to slow her impact. For a fraction of a moment it appeared as though she knelt upon the wall, defying gravity completely. Garret barely caught a glimpse of this action as he swiveled in his immense chair, but watched still as Sara, pulling a sword from the wall that had been hung there as decoration, sprang again effortlessly up into the air before doing a somersault and plummeting down once more. As Sara fell through the air she again repositioned her body for maximum leverage and landed upon Garret’s huge desk in a crouch, burying the sword to the hilt through the thick, ancient wood of the desk.
“That, my brother, is how I intend to fight. If need be I will accompany Seth’s troops to fight at night. I am no longer helpless, Garret. I can hold my own,” Sara said with a mischievous smile.
“I can see that,” Garret replied, pausing a moment to ponder. “So is this also a portion of how you were changed by whatever means it was that you were altered?”
“Yes, brother.” It was Seth who answered. “Her alteration has both a very negative side, and one that thus far is quite impressive. But I will not let you accompany my troops, Sara,” Seth announced as Sara turned to face him with a somewhat confused if not angry look upon her face. “Not until you have been trained to fight by the very best and not until I have prepared you as well as I am able,” he added.
Sara smiled, her face lighting up as it had done the first day Seth had met her. Again he was being protective, trying to keep her from harm. Now, however, Seth knew she was more capable than most of defending herself, and as such he respected her enough to not argue with her wishes.
“One more thing, Garret,” Seth said, causing his brother’s eyebrows to rise once again. “I have witnessed how a small, fairly well trained force can hold its own against a much larger force and also against unbelievable odds. Sara and I can relay that information to the army and they can begin training at once, if you think it a fair plan.” Seth concluded.
“How is it accomplished?” Garret asked, his knowledge of battle tactics disappointedly limited.
“You break your men into small units of about twenty. Each of them is very lightly armored, carrying only a spear and a very large shield like this.” Seth picked up a piece of parchment off the floor then hunted out a quill and ink before drawing a rough sketch of the shield design. “Then your men form up in a circle, each facing the outside like this.” Seth again drew a sketch. “There is also an inner ring like this.” Once more he drew hastily. “Then in the middle the men use their shields to form a roof like this,” Seth said, completing his drawing.
“It’s like a turtle,” Garret smiled.
“Yes, but it is a turtle that can strike in all directions and yet is invulnerable to most attacks, especially from arrows,” Seth explained.
“It is brilliant. Tomorrow, while I take my men west, you shall relay this to Sulvis and the men will begin training at once. We will need a lot of shields and spears, something we do not have in excess. I will have to have the blacksmiths working all hours of the day and night to make this happen, but I think it may be just the advantage we need,” Garret said grinning.
“You go buy us more time. I will see to it that the blacksmiths have some help,” Seth replied.
“I have not forgotten you either, Sara,” Garret said. “Since you move so quickly and effortlessly, I know the very man to train you in the use of weapons properly. Tomorrow evening you must go to the knights’ training field. He will be waiting.”
“I will,” Sara replied simply.
“Sorry Garret, but we should be going, both to allow you to finish what needs to be done, and also for us to seek out a nice dark place to spend much of the day. I have such a spot in mind already so no need to offer us anything,” Seth stated.
“I understand, but if you need anything just come to the palace; someone will see to it you get what you need in my absence. I should only be gone a few days, if all goes well. Good luck with your preparations, and good night,” Garret said.
Rising from behind his desk Garret rounded the table to hug both his brother and Sara before they retired. Watching them go, Garret struggled inwardly about what it was that he must do next. It was dangerous, an action necessitated by need, not desire, yet if he had any chance of success in the forthcoming war, Garret knew it had to be this way. With only himself and Linaya in the room, Garret sat beside the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, and leaned in, placing a light kiss upon her forehead.
“There is something you need to say, but are afraid to,” Linaya stated plainly, concern already in her voice.
“Yes.” Garret paused before regaining his resolve to continue. “We each have a task if Valdadore is to survive this battle. Each task is of the utmost importance, and we are all at risk. However, the task that I must give you puts you possibly at greater risk, but I do not know exactly what that risk might be. Where I need you to go is a complete unknown to me, but I don’t believe there is another person more suited for the task than you, Linaya.” Garret’s voice sounded harsh and strained as if he were fighting to control his emotions.
“I know you would not put me in unnecessary danger if I am to one day be your bride, Garret,” Linaya said, forcing a smile. “What task is it that you need me to do? Tell me and I will see it done.”
“Do you promise to follow my orders precisely, no matter what it might mean for the future?” Garret asked, now looking to the floor.
“Yes,” came the simple reply.
“I need you to leave for Boulder Gate this very day and seek audience with King Brighthammer. Convince him to come to our aid. You will not be going alone, of course. I am entrusting Zorbin Ironfist with your safety. I hope that the two of you can return swiftly with news of brigades of dwarves marching to our aid. If you cannot, the two of you are to remain in Boulder Gate until I send for you,” Garret declared before looking up again to meet the
eyes of the only woman to truly win his affection.
“So you would send me away to relative safety, not to return unless I bring aid? Those are your exact orders?” Linaya asked, sounding more than a little upset.
“Yes,” Garret said in a near whisper. “I cannot imagine the horrors you might face here in Valdadore should we fall. With your beauty our attackers would be overcome with lust and would use you in ways I dare not even think of.” Garret said, with obvious anger in his voice.
“I understand your wishes, and shall follow your orders, though I do not agree with them,” Linaya sighed.
“I pray you do not look down upon me for this,” Garret said. “Your appearance could do you great harm here, but could do the kingdom a great service in Boulder Gate. I hope you understand.”
“I understand the need coming from your majesty, and I understand your concern for my safety coming from you, Garret, a man who has shown me nothing but kindness and love since the very moment we met,” Linaya said. “I will do what you ask, but I have one condition,” she added with a tone of sincerity in her voice.
“A condition?” Garret asked.
“I should like to spend the remaining hours before sunrise within your arms in case I am unable to return with aid,” Linaya informed him, somewhere between a smile and tears.
“Condition granted.” Garret turned and swept the petite woman of all his affections from her chair in a single swoop and pulled her into his lap where she curled up, wrapped within Garret’s massive arms until morning.
*****
Seth and Sara stalked down the castle stairs side by side, their footfalls timed to perfection. Reaching the base of the staircase they turned together, without pause, and strode towards the main entrance without so much as a word. The halls, even at this early hour, were far from vacant. Here on the lowest floor messengers and council members alike rushed to and fro in a hectic maelstrom of activity. Though many raced past them, most speaking a greeting as they went, the couple clad in their black armor spoke not a word as they traversed the halls of the castle. Both were lost to the world; lost in their own thoughts and musings of what would happen in the days to come. Sara daydreamed of the training and trials that she would soon see as she learned from some unknown master the art of fighting. Seth too was lost in contemplation; he had unbelievable responsibility in the outcome of the battle to come. Not only did Garret depend upon his magic on the field, but also now for helping to equip an army that over the next few weeks would be swelling to unknown numbers. Seth had other pressing duties as well. He needed to correct his vision in order to be of use at the battle, as well as complete Sara’s transformation, restoring to the woman he loved her humanity. Aside from that, Seth was now the head of the battle mages, at least until a suitable replacement could be chosen. What Seth really needed now more than anything was a place where he could be alone to think without any distractions. He knew one such place; a place that few, if any, visited. A place where he could be alone with his thoughts for a while to best work out how to juggle his new responsibilities. That is why he now walked with purpose, for he needed to reach the place before the sun broke over the walls of the castle.
Seth and Sara rounded the corner to the castle’s massive front entrance, and without so much as a command the guards posted in the doorway shoved the great wooden doors to each side. Without the need to even pause, the couple strode out into the first courtyard where two massive werewolves fell into step behind them. Seth watched them take their positions, though not with his eyes. He decided there was no better time than the present to start relaying orders.
“What of the men, Borrik?” Seth asked without turning to face his second-in-command.
“They await your orders, your majesty, though I have informed them of the impending battle,” Borrik replied.
“Very well. Now that we are in the city you shall see to it that all of the men are outfitted properly. By midday have them all armored and armed, then I will come and alter the armor to suit their needs,” Seth stated.
“Yes, your majesty,” Borrik answered.
“I prefer Seth, or Lord Seth if you are unwilling to drop a title,” Seth said with a grin.
“Yes, your maj…Sorry…Perhaps Prince Seth befits your current station?” Borrik asked.
“That will do nicely, Borrik. ‘Your majesty’ seems entirely too regal, does it not?” Seth asked.
“Perhaps for a man of your abilities and duties, my prince,” Borrik responded.
“Also tell the men that I have orders for them once they are suitably equipped, so have them prepare themselves to leave,” Seth commanded.
“Yes, my prince, and will I be accompanying them?” Borrik asked.
“I have not yet decided, Borrik. However, you may be happy to know that we now go to visit your home.” Seth’s grin returned.
“What home is that, Prince Seth?” Borrik asked, not ever recalling any place as being his home.
“The Temple of Ishanya, of course,” Seth said, now openly smiling. “Would you not like to see how it has fared in your absence?”
“I would, now that I think of it, my prince. Also your orders have been relayed. The men already begin to seek out equipment,” Borrik stated, having used his ability to communicate telepathically with the werewolf troops that he commanded.
“Very good. Have the blacksmiths they deal with send a record of debt to the palace in my name,” Seth said.
“Done,” Borrik said simply.
For the remainder of the walk Seth and Sara and their two werewolf shadows all remained silent, each of them deep in thought. Even so, Seth scanned with his vision of the gods to ensure their path would not encounter any unwanted resistance or surprises. As of yet he was not ready to assume that there were none within the city that harbored ill-will towards him. However, as they neared the Temple of Ishanya none of them was prepared for what they would see when the building came into sight.
All four warriors were instantly yanked from their reverie upon coming within shouting distance of the temple. Here the streets were not those of an average early morning. Today hundreds of people milled about, talking to one another in hushed tones, each of them pausing to stare as the quartet of newcomers passed. Several pointed and whispered as they approached, and as they neared the temple proper each of them was in awe of what they beheld. It was not that the temple had been altered in any major way; in fact, the same small entry remained, unmarked, unadorned and completely undecorated. Though the building had obviously seen some scrubbing and repainting, other than its new shine it remained completely unchanged. What was entirely different was the throng of people pouring into and out of the temple. Men and women by the dozens entered, each of them carrying bundles or packages, and as one group entered another would depart empty-handed. But those people who were exiting the temple were not leaving completely. These were the people milling about in the street, gathered silently to await something. Seth had an idea what it was that they waited for. Using his vision of the gods, Seth was surprised, but not overly so, to find that all those who had congregated here, more than five hundred, were devout worshippers of Ishanya. Every moment more entered the street from all directions. Seth imagined that in less than half an hour there would be more than a thousand people outside the temple which was designed only to accommodate around a hundred at full capacity.
As the young couple clad in black armor approached the temple with their werewolf guards, the people stepped aside to let them pass easily, not out of fear it seemed, but out of respect. The people knew who they were, and Seth could not help but feel that they had also known that he would be coming here at this appointed time on this appointed day. The feeling sent shivers down his spine and set all of the hair upon his body on end. What game was Ishanya playing at?
As Sara and Seth went through the small entrance to the temple, those who came up the stairs in the opposite direction turned, retreating out of the way. Following the latest throng to ente
r the temple down the stairs, Seth and Sara beheld the temple in its altered state. Pausing upon the bottom step to take in the new appearance of the temple, the young couple stood in awe for a long moment. Then realizing the error in their ways, they quickly moved aside to let Borrik enter the meager temple, that only months before, stood vacant of all life but his own.
*****
Borrik stepped past his master to behold the temple he had lived in for decades in a state of repair unlike anything he had even imagined before. Though the outside and entrance to the temple remained much the same, the underground temple had changed a great deal in the many weeks past. The area where there had once been a row of short pews to each side of the entryway was now free of furniture. To one side stood a modern statue of Ishanya seated upon a cloud, looking down serenely at her followers. Another depicted Borrik’s last visit to his temple and portrayed Seth in his black robes and Sara in her skin-tight leather. Borrik was there too with the twisted features he used to have after being melded with an orc. At their stone feet was a small woman holding up a dying infant in her hands. The scene felt surreal; Borrik could barely even recall the short time he spent as a human melded solely with an orc. How far he had come since then. The remaining statues were magnificently carved, each one in obsidian, each one representing the three most powerful players in Ishanya’s game. There stood Borrik in his current werewolf body, Seth in his spiked and hideous armor with mock bones protruding from the rib cage, and Sara in her body-form armor showing exquisite female perfection. Each statue rose from the floor to the ceiling. Yet it was not the statues that really caught Borrik or his companions off guard.
Beyond what was once the sole room of worship within the temple lay a new, massive room. Row upon row of brand new, shiny pews lined the majority of the vast area, leaving only a walkway down the middle and a large stage with a dais at the far end. There was not a single space for another person to sit within the room. Every inch of every pew was loaded to capacity, and beyond that, more people stood behind the last row of pews listening intently with their ears straining to hear the words that came from a malformed woman upon the stage. Though Borrik, with his canine hearing could easily make out the woman’s words, he paid them little attention. He was much more concerned with what the woman wore.
The Contention Page 3