Age of the Gods: The Complete, twelve novel, fantasy series (The Blood and Brotherhood Saga) (217 page)

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

Kanth stood atop the hill to the south of Valdadore awaiting his king and master. Between him and the city was the largest army Valdadore had ever seen, let alone commanded. Over six hundred thousand Lycans stood in columns, two hundred wide and more than three thousand deep. To either side, the crown’s remaining cavalry bore their lances upon the great white steeds that were only found in these lands. Down the hill to his left were the healers, mages, and Garret’s young knights. In all, they were near seven hundred thousand strong. Even now the supply lines began to gather. This could not be a long campaign. Even Kanth knew that. The feed alone would be a struggle, especially on the move. They’d have to slaughter fourteen hundred cattle per day just to feed the army and it would take two weeks just to reach Raven’s Hold. Nearly twenty thousand cattle just to reach the point where the orc, goblin, and troll army would march out to meet them before heading west to Drakenhurst. Kanth hoped Raven’s Hold had enough food to replenish their lines when they arrived.

 

Spying the king exiting the gates of the city upon a massive white stallion, his wife at his side on a matching beast, Kanth gave the silent command to make way. Instantaneously the columns of Lycans split, making space for their king and master to trot towards the hill where Kanth awaited. The gleaming white coats of the beasts appeared to be bobbing reflections in an ocean of dark fur, so vast was the army.

It was several minutes before Garret and Anna trotted up to join him from one side of the hill, and Ashton from the other. The king did not look well rested and he and Anna smelled both sweet and musty. They’d spent the night mating.

“Are we prepared to leave, Kanth?”

“Yes, King. All in order. Supply lines forming now. Blacksmiths follow. Army ready to march.” Kanth watched the king nod.

“You’ve done well. Will you be riding during the day?”

“Beasts do not trust Kanth. Kanth will run with the Lycans.”

“Can you keep up with them even in human form?”

“Yes. Kanth just as strong. Just as fast.”

“Very well. Give the order.”

Kanth gave the order to march and watched as the massive ocean of bodies began to ripple, the heads of over half a million Lycans bobbing as they moved. Turning to the south, he watched as the king spurred his steed, his mounted companions following. Kanth dug his toes into the soil. He’d never actually run as a human. He hoped he could keep up.

Lunging forward, Kanth began to pump his legs, racing to catch the Valdadorian war horses ahead.

 

 

Chapter Fifteen

Garret was coming, of that Seth was certain. Even now his massive army reached Raven’s Hold. They were a day away. Valdadore’s army was vast. They outnumbered his own army two to one. Garret had new champions as well. Mere children. It was a shame it had all come to this.

Leaving his body behind, Seth stepped through the veil into the realm of the gods where he drank deeply of time and fate, studying and focusing on the future. It was almost like cheating. Fighting Garret would be futile. Fighting his army would be futile. Both played into the hands of the gods. This was to be a battle unlike any other battle Thurr had ever witnessed. A true clash of titans. That’s what the gods wanted. That’s what Ishanya wanted. But not him.

Shifting back to the mortal realm, Seth became aware that Sara was speaking to him.

“…So the orc could raise the dead?”

“Yes.”

“So if you can mimic his abilities and know how to do it, then we have an endless army?”

“More or less, yes.”

“Seth… Why do I feel like you aren’t telling me something?”

“Because I’m not telling you something.”

Seth tried not to grin when Borrik snorted; the whole situation really was dire, but the look on Sara’s face was priceless. He memorized it, committing it to memory. “There is a good reason I’m not telling you everything. If you know what I know, you’ll make different decisions, and try to influence
my
decisions. If I do not stay the course, we fail. Even if I do stay the course, our odds are not good.”

“Of defeating Garret?” Sara questioned.

“Of making a difference at all.”

“So we wait?” Borrik asked.

“We do, my good friend. We wait.”

“It is odd to find us here,” Sara began as Ashton nodded his agreement. “Potentially our final battle upon the same field where we fought our first. This time, don’t transport us to some land we’ve never seen before.”

“Honestly I wish it were an option. There are many lands on Thurr I’ve not seen with my eyes yet,” Seth admitted.

“Then how do you know they exist?” Sara probed.

“I have felt them. I have felt their people. There is so much more to Thurr than what we know. The gods influence it all. I hope we are able to change that and really become free.”

“If anyone can, it’s you,” Sara grinned.

“I hope you are right.” Looking over his shoulder, Seth smiled wide at the approaching orc. The man’s green face was painted with white under the eyes in three stripes.

“Welcome home, Ashton. I’m sorry it took so long for me to realize.” Seth hugged the orc hard, patting him on the back.

“How did you know?” asked the orc containing Ashton.

“Yeah, how did you know it was him?” Sara seconded.

“It is a long story,” Seth admitted. “The short version is that Ashton was abducted the last time we battled here, and the orc king used his ability to put Ashton’s essence inside an orc body, and sent an imposter back with us to Valdadore.”

“Bloody Abyss,” Borrik growled. “How is such a thing even possible?”

“That is a rather difficult question. Ashton, I’m glad to have you back. As soon as I am able I will restore you to your body.”

“No,” Ashton replied. “My body was weak and this one is strong. The orc people needed a talented healer, and I gave them that. I enjoy serving their needs. It is my duty.”

Seth had not seen the response coming, but there was no time for argument. He needed to focus on the task at hand.

“Very well, Ashton. I pray we do not need your talents this day.”

 

Seth reached out with his power. Garret’s full force was on the move again. They’d stopped for the night at the keep, but once rested, they marched to war. The time was upon him. He dismantled his body within his cloak as his bones and flesh altered, each fiber realigning, becoming as he willed.

* * * * *

Garret led the army with Anna on one side and Kanth on the other. It had been a long journey hindered by the need to feed such a large force. The path through the ancient forest had been too narrow and had stretched his lines out for miles and miles. Now, however, the army marched as a cohesive unit once more.

Topping the rise where he had camped over a year ago with the previous king, his mentor, Lord Sirus, and his good friend, Zorbin Ironfist, he sighed in relief when he noted the army opposite the valley. As promised, the orcs, goblins, and trolls had come.

Raising a hand to command the army to stop, he looked back to be certain his command was heeded. To a man, the massive army froze. Grinning, Garret kicked at his mount’s flanks and thundered down the side of the hill towards the center of the valley with Kanth and Anna hot on his heels. Opposite him he could see an orc accompanied by a Lycan and one other making their way down as well. Reaching the bowl of the valley, Garret was surprised to see that the world had once again claimed it. Gone were the mud and gore and in its place was brush and grass as if the battle a year ago never happened. Pulling back on the reins of his mount he slowed it to a trot as the beast stumbled, the earth beneath it beginning to pitch and quake.

Cursing, Garret brought his massive steed to a stop, peering across the expanse. Ahead, perhaps thirty yards, a vast eruption of soil launched into the air as jagged rocks reached upwards towards the sky like giant skeletal fingers. Dust and soil was caught in the breeze casting a haze upon the valley as the earth was wrought in two, a great jagged void opening up across its entire length. Garret had seen such work before. The demon king.

Peering across the void he could see the glow emanating from the hands of the orc who approached. He could now see it was not one of his Lycans, but his brother’s foul beast, Borrik. The demon queen was there as well. Scowling at those across the new gorge, Garret watched in awe as the orc’s features melted away, replaced by those of the demon himself.

“You think you can stop me with such a small force, demon?” Garret spat, invoking his blessing to carry his words.”

“No, brother. I wish there was no need for armies at all.”

“You know I can leap this gorge,” Garret threatened.

“Yes, if you invoke your blessing. But how well would you fare against an entire army?”

Garret was fuming. The demon had stolen hundreds of thousands of men from him, or had it been a trap all along? What game was the demon playing?

“Come and fight me, you wretch!” Garret boomed.

“I’ll never fight you, Garret. I love you. I love Valdadore. I love Thurr.”

“You lie! What game is this?”

“I am sorry for all the pain and loss you have endured. I have suffered as well. We all have. There is a true enemy, but I am not him.”

“Then surrender,” Garret offered. “I’ll execute you, your whore, and all those you have tainted. The rest may go free.”

“I can’t do that, Garret. I would gladly sacrifice myself if that is what it took to fix everything. But it isn’t as easy as that.”

“Then come and fight!” Garret demanded once more.

“Do you not have it in you to forgive, Garret?”

“You deserve no forgiveness, creature.” Garret kicked his horse’s flanks, driving the beast forward. Jerking on the reins at the last moment the steed leapt, as Garret rose and placed one foot on the saddle. Waiting until they reached the apex, Garret summoned his blessing as he pushed off of the beast, knowing full well it would fall into the chasm. Exploding in size as his great blades sprang from his wrists. Lashing out, the tendrils of lightning flashed about before him, wrapping about the demon who now stood only twenty foot away. It sizzled and snapped as the demon caught fire, but then, as quickly as it had come, the tongues of electricity were gone and the demon stood unharmed.

“Stand down, Garret. Think about what you are doing and why.”

Garret began a reply, but was cut short by motion out of the corner of his eye. Twisting his giant head he witnessed as Anna lunged across the gorge, dagger in hand, barely touching the ground on the other side before springing atop the demon queen. They went down in a tangle of limbs, rolling with fangs and blades flashing. Garret took one last look at his queen before charging the demon.

Twisting backwards, the demon queen grabbed Anna’s wrists and kicked out in one mighty blow, casting Anna backwards, her limbs flailing. She screamed, her voice cut short suddenly as she collided with rock somewhere below. Garret bellowed out a battle cry. They’d killed her again. Leaning forward, he began pumping his legs.

* * * * *

Seth watched his brother come. Rage had consumed him, driven him mad. No longer did the brother he remembered exist in the shell of the man who had lunged across the gorge. Even so, tears ran from Seth’s eyes as he raised his hands, extending his power to rip away Garret’s blessing.

“Gather your wits, Garret and denounce Ishanya! You are too good for her sick ways! Forgive me my wrongs, command your army away and lay down your weapons!”

Even in his natural human state Garret barreled towards him screaming, “For Valdadore!”

Seth swallowed the lump in his throat, his entire body shaking. “I’m sorry, brother. Some must be sacrificed.” Reaching out, Seth snuffed the life of his brother, the act bringing him to his knees as it felt his very soul were breaking in two.

Sara grabbed his shoulder, hefting him back to his feet, but he couldn’t see her through the tears. It was the only way.

 

Ishanya had to die.

 

As the ash of Garret’s remains settled into the grasses ahead of Seth, he could feel the world around him changing. The goddess was on to his plan. Reaching out across the gorge, Seth snuffed the lives of every Lycan on the field as more power than he had ever felt infused with his own. He felt awash in a river, drowning, the loss of his brother and the power threatening to overcome him. His aura swelled and with it his power. Seth reached out again and snuffed the lives of the remaining Lycans in Valdadore, a thousand leagues away.

It was hard to concentrate. It was hard to see, with his eyes
or
his power and
she
was coming. Seth gasped, having forgotten to breath, everything was moving so slowly. The man across the gorge from him, Garret’s only remaining companion, jumped off the cliff, having lost all hope. Seth watched him plummet those first few feet and it seemed weeks passed. Each breath seemed an eternity. He could count the droplets of water in the clouds passing above. He felt her nearing, but she remained on the other side of the veil.

His heart felt as if it would explode, yet seemed not to beat. Swelling. Everything seemed to be swelling. Distorted. The world felt like a second skin, crawling all over him as his gargantuan aura touched everything.

 

He left his mortal shell.

 

Transitioning into the realm of the gods, Seth could feel Ishanya like never before. He willed her into physical form and she appeared to him as such. He was nearly her equal, so vast was his power now.

“You would kill your own brother to wage a war against beings you cannot defeat?” Ishanya taunted him. “The same brother who taught you to lace your boots and who made you a prince?”

Even in his spiritual form Seth felt the words like daggers. She was trying to make him feel ashamed, weak, scared. Because
she
was scared. But there was nothing to protect her now. He was an abomination. Her abomination. Seth reached out and grasped at the aura that was Ishanya and began to pull.

Piece by piece he tore at her as she shrieked, altering her appearance to that of his father, James, and then to that of Garret. But Seth steeled himself to his task. Her aura was like a drug, intoxicating and devastating. It was overwhelming. He could feel himself failing. It was too much. He had misjudged his ability to contain so much power. He was not yet strong enough. He could feel her tendrils tearing him apart from the inside. He couldn’t contain so vast an entity. Every fiber of his being was being torn. He felt himself waver and buckle. He needed more power. Not taken, but freely given. He’d misjudged and for it all would be lost.

* * * * *

Sara shrieked as Seth’s legs gave out from beneath him. He was sweating all over, trembling, and crying. His body was wracked again and again as blood sprayed from his breath forming little droplets on his lips and face. She knew not what had overcome him, but knew that he was fighting for his life. “Seth!” she screamed at him, slapping his cheek. “Seth, what is it?”

His skin began growing gray and cold. Borrik towered over them both, casting them in shadow. “Seth, you have to tell me what to do. What’s wrong?” she pleaded.

“Not enough,” Seth mumbled.

“Not enough what?” she pleaded.

“Power. I’m not strong enough.”

Seth was not in their world. He was fighting, and she could guess who. Sara watched as Seth’s skin began to split, literally being torn apart by something she would never understand. Tears poured down her own face as she cupped his cheeks in her hands.

“Turn me back, Seth. Make me human. Can you do that?” she screamed into his face. She knew it was what he needed, what he wanted. Not like this. Not in these circumstances, but his pale hand raised to her face and the euphoria of his power washed over her and she felt for an instant as her body changed, the organs in her gut altering slightly, the fangs in her jaw retracting. She let him drop to the ground. “Borrik. It’s up to you to take care of him now.”

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