Age of the Gods: The Complete, twelve novel, fantasy series (The Blood and Brotherhood Saga) (117 page)

About two hours before dawn, Tommy rounded a corner and found a soldier with a neck wound upon the ground. Though the soldier was still alive, a body in such a state as this could be cause to sound an alarm. He quickly dragged it back around the corner and stashed it beneath a cart containing supplies. Tommy smiled; Valdadore’s enemies were trying to kill each other, and hopefully they would succeed. Done with doing someone else’s dirty work, he rounded the corner once again as snow began to fall from the sky. Ahead he saw a large tent with four huge men and two smaller ones standing guard outside. It was crimson, accented in gold. Tommy would bet anything but his new body that inside that tent was the king. He changed direction, planning to circle the tent from behind. Two seconds was all he would need. Just two seconds alone with King Sigrant and the war would be over.

Pulling his cowl low again he began to walk out into the open, trying to look like he belonged.

* * * * *

Darting from shadow to shadow, another assassin from Valdadore moved among the enemy camp. Sharp were his teeth and claws, and thick was his hide. Moving along on all fours, to anyone else Chad would appear nothing more than an animal. Though it had taken him much longer to make it this far into camp, he was surprised to see that both he and Seth’s other assassin had arrived at the tent belonging to King Sigrant at the same time. He could not see beneath the man’s cloak, but he could certainly smell it. He had followed that scent across the entire expanse between the two armies. Unfortunately for the assassin in that particular cloak, his decision to walk out in the open had caught the attention of the guards who now spoke amongst themselves.

Just a few words were passed before the guards rushed to meet the man in the blue robe. Chad saw his opportunity. Leaving the security of the shadows he sprinted on all four limbs straight through the front flaps of the tent. Though the outside had been well lit by torches, the inside was pitch dark. Hearing no sounds Chad waited a moment for his eyes to adjust to the darkness as his nostrils were assailed by the scents of blood and perfume. Something across the tent moved in the darkness.

Chad’s eyes had not yet focused but he thought that someone stood. Without the ability to bring weapons with him, he looked to his surroundings for a weapon of opportunity and, spotting one, he took a step to the side. Reaching down, with a wiggle and a tug he extracted a wooden stake from the ground that had been hammered into the soil to pin down the edge of the tent. Uncertain if his foe had even seen him, Chad leapt through the air brandishing the foot long piece of sharpened wood.

* * * * *

Tommy crossed the path between the two rows of tents, not daring to look in the direction of the guards whose eyes he could feel upon him. Even from this distance he could hear them exchange hushed words but he kept walking. Then the guards gave chase, all six of them leaving their post, each of them sprinting full ahead to intercept him. Fools. He needed not go through them, he could just as easily go over them. Smiling, Tommy tore away his disguise as the guards neared. Crouching low to the ground, as the first was almost upon him, he drew his twin short swords and leapt with all his might. In a fraction of a second he plummeted down towards the roof of the tent belonging to King Sigrant, his swords held out to shear through the fabric as he descended.

* * * * *

Edward could not believe his luck. He had lain his seed within beautiful woman after beautiful woman for over an hour. Had they not each filled him with amazing energy and power he would have been exhausted. Each of them now lay unconscious upon the ground, their hearts slowly pumping a drizzle of blood out of the two puncture wounds in their necks. He doubted any of them would die. Soon daylight would come, and with it the camp would be all hustle and bustle and then healers would see to the girls. It wasn’t the slightest burden upon Edward’s conscience.

Rising from his latest conquest, wiping the blood from his chin upon her golden hair, Edward had a thought he simply could not ignore. He could not help but to wonder if the blood of a king tasted any different than that of a common person.

Spinning upon his heel he peered back to the slumbering king, amazed the man had not stirred each time Edward had disentangled another lover from him. Edward simply could not resist. Feeling sure of himself, he would simply do the same with the king as he had done with each of the girls. Pin him down, clamp his mouth shut, then feed upon him until he was unconscious again.

Without wasting a moment Edward crept to the slumbering king and lowered himself atop the man. Unlike the fear that each of the women had showed in their eyes upon waking so brutally, the king’s eyes blazed with the fire of hatred. Such an angry man, Edward thought, as he sank his teeth into the flesh of royalty.

Disappointed, Edward realized that the blood was no different after all. No sooner had he made the realization, however, than someone burst through the flap of the tent. Thinking the guards were upon him, Edward rose, still holding the king and using him as a human shield. So tight was his hand over the king’s face that Sigrant actually passed out due to lack of air.

Then Edward saw his attacker, except it wasn’t an attacker; it was some small animal that had found its way into the tent. Now the animal scurried back the way it had come to the edge of the tent. He dropped the king back down upon the mattress, thus restoring his air. If the guards had not seen the animal enter, they certainly would see it exit. Edward needed to be leaving.

Stepping away from the mattress, Edward looked up and noticed two things at precisely the same time. What happened next made him wish for an instant he had stayed in his home village of Sporks.

Ishanya grinned a wicked grin in the heavens, watching as the strands of possibility stretched across time. Here they crossed and there they bundled as a great tapestry was being woven. Thus far everything was looking favorable. Her puppet danced along nearly perfectly to the tune she played. Even his failures had begun to work in her favor. It was fate’s way of giving the goddess that which she desired. Ishanya had not pulled the strings that had brought King Sigrant to Valdadore, but that wasn’t to say she did not have a hand in it. Though she did not directly watch the happenings on the world she helped create, she viewed it through the ethereal bindings of time, and watched into the future as possibilities were woven together to create events.

Her power was growing. Already she was becoming a threat to her peers. Soon she would be their equal and then she would surpass them and destroy them. Ishanya reached into the flow of time and plucked away a possibility. Time flowed on, ever weaving the tapestry out of possibilities. If you watched closely enough, you could pull here and push there and guide forward the future you wished. Especially if no one else was watching, too enthralled with the events taking place elsewhere.

It was a risky game she played, but without risks there could be no rewards.

* * * * *

James and Jack, after seeing Garret to his other duties, returned to the fire that Seth attended alone in the predawn hours. They had spoken together earlier and dually decided, had come to a decision.

“The only thing we truly leave behind are our children, Jack,” James said. “Everything else is of no consequence.”

“Are money and a home of no consequence?” Jack asked.

“If you have raised your children right, they can build their own homes and make their own money; that’s what I am saying,” James retorted.

“I’m not disagreeing, I’m only saying you can leave behind more than just your children; you can leave a home, memories, a future for them and their families, even a legacy,” Jack stated.

“You are right, old friend,” conceded James. “I belong in battle. That is my legacy, and I have always known it, but it is not a legacy I wish my boys to continue.”

“Of course not,” Jack replied. “What choice do we have, though? We cannot stop future wars from happening.”

“No we can’t. Especially if what Seth says is true and the gods need war here to win battles in the heavens.”

“Then what do you suggest?” Jack asked.

“No more than we’ve already agreed upon. All we can do is spare our children as much pain as possible. In this case that means becoming better warriors and shouldering more of the burden,” James shrugged.

“Do you think he will agree to it?” Jack asked, doubt clearly in his voice.

“I don’t know, and there is only one way we will find out.”

Another quarter of an hour passed and not a word was spoken between the two warriors who had been friends for longer than most had been alive. Together James and Jack walked to the fire, and approaching the boy who used to close his eyes while hunting, they asked him to make them better killers.

“I can’t, Dad. Garret would never forgive me!” Seth cried.

“What would there be to forgive? We are volunteering,” James said, his voice remaining calm.

Seth thought on his words for a few moments, and after a time found the truth in them. As such, he began to think aloud.

“There is not time for anything elaborate. All we can afford now are some simple alterations. If I change you there is no going back,” Seth replied. “It won’t be like Borrik sprouting wings then absorbing them again. Those changes take much more time. We have two hours tops.”

James knew his son. Seth was no longer refusing. Now he was stating facts. This meant the answer wasn’t ‘no’ any longer, but it wasn’t ‘yes’ yet either.

“Seth, as we are we can save many men with our blessings. If what you say is true, than the gods will do everything they can to
make
us kill each other. Let us help you thwart the gods. Make us better warriors so that with our sacrifice we can save countless others,” James pleaded.

Those were the words needed to convince Seth. Thus far, since the day he had made a deal with a goddess, it had been Seth alone who worked to thwart a god. Now it was all the gods he was trying to work against. A single mortal simply was not enough to ebb the flow of souls returning to the gods. Seth needed help. His brother might hate him for the rest of their lives but in that moment Seth gave in to his father’s rational argument. In order to save many, a few would need to be sacrificed. Seth was willing to make the sacrifice, but alone it was a losing battle. Seth sighed in defeat.

“OK Father, I have just the thing for you. I had been saving it to reward someone else, but know that none will never,
ever
look upon you as human again,” Seth said, a single tear slipping down his face.

Seth was willing to sacrifice, even if it meant sacrificing those he loved. Telling his father to disrobe, and Jack likewise, Seth pulled up his sleeves and began working on the pair of veteran warriors. Their history, much like his own, was a mystery to Seth. He imagined that once upon a time they had vowed to never fight again. Yet here they were, giving up their humanity and that oath to battle once again to save mankind from the greed of the gods.

* * * * *

Tommy ripped through the roof of the royal tent to land atop what could only be described as a pile of naked women. Had he been a few hundred years younger, and somewhere other than the middle of an enemy army, he might have taken advantage of the situation. Unfortunately, current circumstances did not permit it. Looking around inside the dark tent, as cries of alarm sounded outside, Tommy was surprised to witness what happened next.

As he gathered his bearings, a small man covered in fur sailed across the room onto the chest of a soldier twice his size. Snarling and clawing, the small beast of a man rode his bigger enemy all the way to the ground. As the two hit the floor, a fountain of blood erupted from the bigger man’s lips. Tommy thought his job already finished for he saw that the fallen man had a short shaft of wood protruding from his heart. Preparing to leap out of the same hole he had entered through, he was just as surprised as the small furry man when another person in the room abruptly sat up gasping. Though it was dark, both men moved to fell this new foe. Tommy lunged across the room, slashing with his twin blades at the same time as the small furry man struck out with his clawed fingers. Both assassins landed their blows. Falling back, the larger man had lost an entire arm, and his belly had been sliced to ribbons, his entrails spilling out around him upon the bed. That did not even include the wound in his neck that leaked blood as well. In mere seconds he would be dead.

As the guards charged into the tent, Tommy leapt up and out again, landing far enough away to make a clean escape. Chad was not so lucky.

* * * * *

King Sigrant awoke to a man clamping a hand over his mouth but, angered beyond measure, he made no attempt to scream. At least until the man had bitten him. However, struggling with all his might afforded him little. His attacker could not be budged. Then, just as the king had given up, hope was restored.

With someone suddenly bursting through the flap in the tent, Sigrant’s attacker rose, bearing the king with him. King Sigrant calculated the man had less than half a percent chance of surviving his guards. However, the king might never know for sure, since when his attacker had dragged him to his feet, his grip upon his mouth had slipped and now Sigrant’s nostrils were blocked as well.

Struggling for breath, he passed out.

Coming to, an unknown amount of time later, Sigrant discovered that indeed his attacker had been slain. He knew not whether to reward his guards for killing the attacker, or punish them for allowing him to enter. All too soon he realized the decision mattered not at all. Sigrant stood to survey his surroundings.

Two creatures were in the room with him, and both rushed him simultaneously. Weak from blood loss and recovering from his recent blackout there was little Sigrant could do. Being nude without so much as a knife did not help either.

As his opponents struck, the invading king stood defiantly at the end of his bed. Unable to defend himself, he simply raised his arms to ward off the attack. An instant later he lost one of them as, at the same time, his entrails began to spill from his gut. The monsters had killed him.

Bleeding to death Sigrant watched one of the beasts leap clear through the roof of his tent as the other scrambled to cut his way through the canvas of the wall. Too late, Sigrant’s guards came in. At least he would get to watch one of his killers find the same fate as he.

His vision becoming hazy, Sigrant fell back upon the bed as his four massive guards tore the small, hair-covered attacker to pieces. Meanwhile, the healer that always stood with his guards began to tend to his wounds. Before Sigrant blacked out, all he heard was, “Dammit, the infection is spreading. I have to work to seal the wounds before it is too late.”

King Sigrant awoke an unknown amount of time later. He remained in his tent. Raising his arms he was glad to find he had both of them again. He clutched his neck and the wound there was gone too. His abdomen was perfect. His wives had been removed, the tent cleaned. It appeared as if nothing had transpired at all. Sun shone through the thinner material that formed the top of his tent. It had not been a dream as there upon the fabric was the evidence. Where once had been a tear, new stitching closed the gap in a hasty repair.

Sigrant rose from his bed. He wanted answers.

Already wearing trousers, Sigrant strode outside to find his camp coated in snow. The guards outside his tent snapped to attention, their faces grim, worried. The head of his healers was there as well, so he knew it was she who had saved him.

“Your majesty,” the head mistress bowed. “We caught one!” she added excitedly.

“One of my attackers? Yes I saw, they tore him to pieces and the other got away I presume,” Sigrant replied.

“No, my king, one of the other creatures that attacked you and your wives,” she said, hoping to trigger his memory.

“The beast who bit me?” Sigrant asked.

“No, he died my king, and lucky for you too,” she replied. “We have much to discuss. I am already beginning to understand how this epidemic is spreading.”

* * * * *

Sara sat looking down upon the previous day’s battlefield and the huge sprawling encampment beyond it. The air was cold and snow still fell; the ground and everything else was blanketed in the stuff. Large ominous clouds were in the sky, but no longer directly overhead. In fact, for the most part, the sky was clear. Sara awaited the sun.

In mere moments it would rise and Sara hoped that those she’d created would be caught out in its rays and perish more quickly than they had been spawned. Three generations had arisen during the night, the third just barely so. Good thing too, for there were more than a thousand of them. Near a dozen had turned to over two hundred, then those had already spawned many hundreds more. Sara expected the number to double in the next hour or two. She hoped Sigrant would call his troops to muster before that time. The more that were caught out in the sun, the better. They were monsters, like her.

Sara waited as the horizon grew brighter and brighter but a moment before the sun rose she found herself no longer alone.

“Princess, you would do well to don your helm before the sun rises,” Jonas said from behind her.

The large beast of a man had managed to walk right up on her without her noticing. She needed to focus. Seth
needed
her to focus.

“I no longer have a helm Jonas, but thank you for your concern,” Sara replied.

Rising to her feet and deciding she had better find a cloak or cape with a cowl, Sara turned to find Jonas closing the gap between them. His large fur-covered body stood in stark contrast to the blanket of snow around him. In his hand he held her helm. One of the troops must have recovered it after she discarded the thing. From now on she would not fight without it. She could not risk biting anyone else.

Thanking the beast of a man, Sara accepted the helm that had obviously been cleaned and polished. She placed it over her head, snapping the visor shut just as the sun broke the horizon.

Hundreds of miniscule connections were instantly ripped away. Sara wept silently within her armor. It was the exact opposite of feeding upon someone. Dark, cold, devoid of life and pleasure, the absence of emotion flowed through Sara making her feel empty and less than worthless. She suffered it in silence as she and Jonas regarded each other through crimson lenses. More upsetting still, over a third had survived. They would continue to spread. With nothing more to look forward to, she placed her hand upon Jonas’ fur covered shoulder in thanks, and stepped past him to see about her husband.

* * * * *

It was not a long or difficult process that Seth chose for his surrogate father and family friend. In fact, one of the auras he used to alter them he had been reserving since magically transporting himself halfway across the world. The other had been brought to him.

When calling upon his blessing in the past, James would grow from six and a half feet to over forty. Seth wondered how big he would get now that he was near double his original height in his unblessed form. Stepping back out of his dad’s immense shadow, Seth craned his neck back to appraise his work.