The Crowned (The Blood and Brotherhood Saga, Book 6) (16 page)

* * * * *

Sigrant watched the gnomes go, every tedious second drawn
out to a damned eternity. Inch by fucking inch the things crawled, to no end as
far as Sigrant could tell. Leave it to the damned gnomes to annoy him further.

Impatient, Sigrant counted the hairs upon his arm as the
things crawled across an eternity. One blew up and then another, but
Valdadore’s pathetic defenses were nearly useless against the machines. Sigrant
smiled, knowing all too well what awaited the defenders there. Once the
machines reached the wall they would begin to heat the stone of the thing. They
could not melt the stone, that was near impossible. But within the stone would
be moisture, and if heated quickly enough the moisture would turn to steam and
expand. Once it did, the stones would either crack or build pressure until they
exploded. Then down would tumble the pathetic king and his smattering of more
pathetic troops.

Sigrant watched the span of another collection of forevers
as the mechanical weapons neared the wall. The anticipation was killing him. Literally.
If the damned things ever reached Valdadore, he would likely be too damned old
to see that far.
If
he still aged. He wasn’t sure.

Down came Valdadore’s defenders. They climbed down the wall,
too far to distinguish details from his vantage. He weighed foraying a little
nearer to get a better look, but uncertainty stilled him. If only he knew
whether or not the prince still lived. Then, what seemed months later, the
gnomish war machines stopped or turned while some began spinning in circles
before eventually tuning back.
Why were they retreating?
Then they began
spewing fire, before out climbed none other than the troops who had climbed
from Valdadore’s walls. Damn the child king! He was resourceful if nothing
else.

He watched them come, his anger seething from his every
pore. As they neared he could take it no more. Rushing out to meet the machines,
he began to fling them in a rage. Smashing some, and throwing and kicking
others until they were all destroyed. For a moment he stood upon the field,
looking for any sign of retribution, but none came.
Damned Valdadore!
He
still did not know if the little dark prince lived.

* * * * *

Garret watched the demise of Sigrant’s apparent machines. Once
again it had been his brother’s monsters to save them, and once again the
defenders cheered.
Did they not understand what he was doing to the people
of Valdadore? How he twisted and ruined them? Cheer the victory, of course, but
not the abominations.
The sun shrank, ever nearing the horizon. Soon, the
people of Valdadore would see just what monsters Seth had made.

With two hours before darkness enveloped the land, a pair of
creatures leaped and bounded across the fields, racing towards Valdadore’s
walls. The two moved too easily, too gracefully. They bounded entirely too far
per stride.

“Archers!” Garret boomed across the wall.

With bows raised, Garret’s few hundred remaining archers
took aim across the field awaiting the command to fire. Garret watched the
creatures grow nearer and nearer, the sun at their backs. As they came into range,
Garret realized that the creatures looked familiar, but barely more than
silhouettes he could not be certain.

“Hold your fire!” Seth yelled, and the archers began to obey
him.

“Maintain!” Garret boomed.

The archers raised their arrows once more and took aim.

“No!” Seth shouted. “Do not fire!”

“Fire!” Garret yelled, his blessed voice booming throughout
the city.

Arrows unleashed, the vast majority following his order as
they were supposed to. He was the king, not Seth. He was their master and
commander, and none stood above him. A second passed as the arrows arced
through the air, and began to rain down.

Suddenly, a great blast of wicked green and yellow flame
lanced out from atop Valdadore’s wall. Reaching out with licking fingers of
fire, the arrows were incinerated. Seth had opposed him directly. Then the pair
of approaching, bounding bodies came to a halt below the wall and peered up at
it.

“That’s some greeting,” the first of the feline girls
shouted up to the awaiting ears of the defenders.

“Mind if we come in?” the second asked, before they too
climbed the walls like the rest of Seth’s wicked creations.

Garret stalked off down the wall, his anger seeking to be
unleashed.

Sara winced as the first twinge of power joined with her.

“She’s awake and feeding,” she told Seth, who gave her a
compassionate look of understanding.

“I’m sorry, but this may be the only way. You should be
there when it is time,” he told her.

“I will, my love.”

Without another word, unwilling to say goodbye, Sara stepped
off the wall and plummeted down to the ground thirty stories below. Another
rush of power, and she was racing down the city streets. Leaping over people,
carts, and animals alike, she ran slowing only to round corners when needed. Another
rush of power. It seemed that granny was getting the hang of it. Faster the
power came, the space between them falling to just a minute or less between
each one. She was taste-testing, enjoying the physical pleasure and the growth
of her own power.
Good.

Before Sara knew it, she was skidding to a halt outside the
entrance to the underground temple devoted to Ishanya. Outside the temple a
dozen of Seth’s rat troops stood guard, allowing no one to inadvertently
release those inside. Even from up here, the screams from below and banging
upon the other side of the door were heart-wrenching. Sara hated it. Hated that
she had done it. Not just changed the old lady, but fed upon people just as
she
was doing. Now that she understood, the whole thing sickened her. But she had a
part to play. Collisions and lives or not.

Standing outside the door like a solitary statue, Sara
waited for the screams and pounding to stop and the ebb of power to cease. Then,
and only then, would she open the door. Dismissing Seth’s troops with a word,
she waited, praying that their plan would work.

The sun had already fled the interior of the city, its
inhabitants frightened into silence within the mighty protective walls. No
light for two nights and a day. The eclipse had always been an apprehensive
occurrence, but with an enemy at the gates that fed on people, it was
terrifying. Little did the people of Valdadore know, the monsters they feared
were already inside. The screams below ceased.

Sara sprang to the door and, thrusting the giant timber from
its hangers, she yanked the door open upon its hinges. Below, the scent of
fresh blood wafted up to fill her nostrils and the desire to feed stirred
within her. Sara refused it, watching the darkness for the monster below.

The old woman had fed upon hundreds, but even so was weak in
comparison to Sara. So it was not with fear that Sara waited for the woman. If
the woman escaped and was accidentally killed before they completed their plan,
was the concern. Sara knew she was stronger and faster, but sometimes shit just
happened. With that in mind, she crept slowly down into the depths, stepping
upon the unconscious victims of her progeny. Somewhere down here was every
child’s worse nightmare. A great grandmother with fangs and a thirst for blood.

Ahead, in a darkened corner she saw movement.

“Come for another taste of me?” the old woman asked from out
of the shadows. “Or perhaps the smell brought you back. Want to help me drain
them?”

Sara did not answer. She could taste the scent in the air
and her mouth watered. She dared not open her mouth lest she lose control and
feed. Instead, she moved toward the darkened corner, her eyes more than able to
make out the woman trying to hide there.
Fool.

Preparing to lunge at the old woman, and tackle her to the
ground in order to subdue her, Sara was shocked when the lady attacked.

Screaming like a mad woman with her arms raised like claws,
Sara nearly laughed at the granny before leaping towards her and grabbing her
face. With her momentum she drove the old wretch to the ground and snapped her
neck.
That’ll take a few minutes to heal.

Picking the old woman up, who barely felt like a feather to Sara
now, she carried her up to the awaiting mechanism and dropped her in. Pausing a
moment, she looked upon the woman’s face and was shocked by what she saw. Where
earlier had been a sunken wrinkled face, filled with lines and mottled with age
spots, now appeared a woman of perhaps her forties. It was the same woman, of
that Sara was certain. Her eyes and clothes were the same. But the change had
transformed the woman, erasing years. All Sara could guess was that aging was
basically your body breaking down a little at a time, and the change simply put
it all back together.

“A pity you won’t get to enjoy it,” Sara said, slipping the
loops of chains around the elbows, wrists, knees, ankles, and neck. Then,
slamming the great lid closed, she secured the clamps that held it shut and
turned the knobs to tighten the chains within, turning each until she heard the
snap. After all, if all her joints were broken, she couldn’t struggle to get
out, and with the chains remaining she wouldn’t heal either. Then using her
more than adequate strength, Sara pushed the incredibly heavy device over,
burying the knobs and clamps beneath it. Now, no one without a blessing would
be able to release the woman.

With the old woman secured, all that was left to do was wait
for those within the temple to rise. Sara did not intend to wait around for
that to happen, so instead she ripped the door from its hinges, assuring
herself that none would bar it once more, blocking Valdadore’s only hope to
defeat Sigrant inside. Looking over her handiwork to be sure she didn’t miss
anything, Sara turned and ran back the way she had come earlier. Only this time
she ran even faster than before.

* * * * *

Seth stood upon the wall, waiting for his pair of feline
sisters to make the climb. His brother had tried to kill the pair, overriding Seth’s
order to hold. He could not help but wonder if Garret had seen who they had
been. Something in his brother had changed.

He watched Sara dash through the city with his god vision,
at the same time he watched his brother stalk away and the feline girls climb
up the wall. He smirked, imagining where and what the teenage girls had been up
to. As they crested the wall, Seth gave the girls his best fatherly stern face,
pointing to them both.

“You two should not just wander off on your own. Especially
with all the fighting that has been going on.”

The pair just looked at him with their luminous eyes, each
jutting out a pouty bottom lip that just did not look right on their feral
feline faces. Then without warning they crawled to his side and clung to his
legs like frightened children, rubbing the sides of their heads and necks upon
his leg armor.

“It’s good to see you girls too, but if you hadn’t noticed,
we sort of have a lot going on.”

“We know,” said the older of the two girls,

“That’s why we came,” said the younger.

“So you came to fight, or for entertainment?” Seth asked,
assuming the latter.

“No we came to let you know that…” the older began.

“Another army marches towards the city,” the younger
finished.

“What army and from where?” Seth asked quickly. The city
could not withstand another enemy.

“But, master, you said you are busy so we will go,” the
older girl said, and both of them made as if to leave.

“I
am
busy, but I still need the answer,” Seth said,
perhaps a bit too harshly. “Apologies, girls, it’s just that I really don’t
have time for distractions right now.”

He realized all too soon that the words he had chosen were
all wrong. Though nearly as much feline as they were human, from their neck to
their naval they remained nearly completely unchanged, their small, young,
perky breasts still very much intact and completely visible. Upon hearing
Seth’s plea, the girls clung to one another, rubbing and pinching and licking
one another in every inappropriate way imaginable.

“That is enough, girls.” Seth half coughed the words, as
troops from further down the wall began to gather for the show.

“But, master…” the older sister began

“You said that…,” the younger added.

“We were a distraction!” they said together, giggling.

“OK, OK… So please will you now just tell me what army
marches for Valdadore?”

“Stinky dwarfs,” one replied.

“With puuurrrrty armor,” added the other.

The dwarves were coming to their aid! Seth sighed in relief,
feeling as if a weight had been removed from his chest.

“How many?” he asked, praying for high numbers.

“Many.”

“Many, many.”

“Lots,” they said together again.

“Can you give me an idea of how many?” Seth asked.

“More than him.” The older girl pointed towards Sigrant’s
camp.

“Many, many more,” the younger added.

“Do you know when they’ll get here?” Seth asked again,
already hearing the whispers down the line that aid was coming.

“Soon.”

“Very soon.”

“Tomorrow,” they said as one.

He would need to hold out until tomorrow and then they would
have reinforcements of more than fifty thousand men, if the girls were correct.
Finally something was going in his favor.

“You are sure that more than fifty thousand dwarves will be
here tomorrow?”

“Not if the…” the older started.

“Giants ate them,” the younger sister completed, licking her
hand and then rubbing it down the side of her face.

“What giants?” Seth asked exasperated.

“Big ones.”

“Big, big ones.”

“Are the giants coming this way too?” Seth asked, beginning
to feel like he was running in circles.

“Not unless they…”

“Are chasing the dwarves.”

That was enough for Seth, and out of courtesy he sent a
runner to tell his brother of the news. Turning his attention from the feline
girls, which was more than he could say about those men nearest him, Seth
watched as the trailing edge of the sun vanished over the horizon. Within the
hour the battle would begin.

“Borrik,” Seth said, looking over to his friend and guardian
down the wall. “Set the fires.”

With a nod Borrik turned, as the order was relayed multiple
times. Watching down the line he saw as all of his soldiers, both wolf and rat
alike, alongside their human counterparts, began taking buckets of oil from the
now refilled, great cauldrons upon the wall and carefully began pouring them over
the sides of the castle to coat as much as was possible. When they were done,
the oil would be ignited, and the gleaming white city would become a beacon of light
in the middle of the darkened plains.

* * * * *

Waiting until darkness fell was like a cruel torture
designed especially for King Sigrant. He passed the time trying to keep his
mind busy calculating and counting things. One of his favorites was counting
the eyelashes of the beauties in his harem as they blinked. Sadly, the task
only took him about a minute for all of them, and then he was forced to move on
to other amusements.

Sigrant was smart, calculating, and cunning beyond measure.
So when the time came to prepare his attack, he did not simply unleash his
vampire horde. He understood what would happen if those high in his vampire hierarchy
were killed. Those below them would revert to human form and be much less
valuable. As such, he decided to send them in waves. The newest, youngest, and
weakest of them would form the first wave, a full half of his army. The rest
would form two smaller waves behind, each stronger and faster than the previous.

As darkness fell, Sigrant strode through the camp, ripping
away the tents that housed his first wave of troops. Then, as means of giving a
command, he simply stood still and pointed at the city across the field from
them. Speaking to them was useless.

Tent by tent his minions were freed and set upon the city. Like
a pack of starved animals they rushed headlong towards its white walls when
suddenly the entire city, spanning miles, went up in flames.

Unfortunate, really. Now he would have to wait endless more
eternities for the damned flames to go out.

* * * * *

Seth stood upon the wall, watching across the field. Sara
had rejoined him just moments ago, assuring him all was in order. Time now was
a commodity they needed to buy as much of as possible. The more time they had,
the stronger Sara would grow. If they could hold out until tomorrow, Dwarven
allies would hopefully arrive and help them remove the detested invaders.

For now it was a game of chance, a roll of the dice. All
they could do was wait, and hope, and hold off the enemy as best they were
able. “
All life is precious
,” Seth reminded himself.
Even those of
our enemy.

Just moments later and the world succumbed to darkness, the
last burning rim of the sun vanishing. And the monsters were unleashed.

Seth watched them come across the field in large groups,
like packs of wild dogs. They rushed across the field as fast as their bodies
would carry them, but before they could reach the wall, Seth gave the command.

“Now,” he said to Borrik.

Down the wall the call went out, and torches were brought to
the whitewashed stone of all four sides of the castle. Within seconds the city
was enveloped. Defenders were forced to fall back from the flames, the heat
singeing their hair and burning their throats. Thick clouds of black smoke rose
from the flames, the thick, greasy oil proving impure.

Seth watched with the vision only he had, and was pleased
when the enemy reached the wall and stopped dead in their tracks. They could
not climb the walls, and if any were able to jump them, they could not see
beyond the flames so were unsure if it was safe to do so. The fire was working
better than planned, the only problem being that the oil would burn quickly,
and there was not enough to keep the walls burning more than a few hours. Then
the defenders would be forced to fight. Seth watched and waited, those dearest
to him at his side. Minus of course, the brother who was not really his brother
at all.