Bloodlust (35 page)

The light in her eyes reminded him of Ivy. Even so, he could not completely trust the goliatha and watched as she returned to Varo.

Lukor stood in front of the goliaths alone for only a moment before Gremma approached. "You are displeased," he said.

"You can only neglect sharing the truth for so long." Her teal eyes narrowed with annoyance, the wrinkles near her eyes deepening within the leathery confines of her face.

"The truth?"

"About your impending marriage. To the barbarian."

Lukor crossed his arms so he could not grab her for fear of hurting the older goliatha. "Watch how loudly you speak about such matters."

"They need to know."

"They will never understand."

"So you plan on relinquishing your hold on the goliath people? Cling to your barbarian wife and never return to Ordisium? Never walk through the Garden of Orda again? I know how you enjoy it there."

The idea of abdicating had crossed his minds several times, but each time, he ignored it. Perhaps unifying the races, bringing them together as allies, was a means for both races to be strong and prosperous. At least the goliaths. Although he did not care for the barbarians as his future wife did, he still aimed to help her any way he could.

"I am Golock and will be until I die."

"Or are killed. Tell me, Lukor, are you scared of death? I am not. I have lived my life. I am ready to die. You have so many more years to live yet. And you have found your love. Not many ever experience the love you have."

He furrowed his brow. "How do you know so much about Ivy and me?"

"Your faces. I was there," she said simply. "But you owe it to your people to give them a chance to accept the direction you wish to lead us. We are not barbarians. We will not rise up against you."

"You have more faith than I do."

"Right now, faith is all we have." Gremma shook her head.

"You do not wish for me to be golock." Disappointment geared toward himself made him bare his teeth.

"I do not wish for the goliath before me to be golock, aye. But you do have golock-like qualities within you. You can be the golock we need, if you dare to have faith in yourself." She slinked back into the crowd of boisterous goliaths.

Faith. Lukor had lost his faith in the world and its races once he found his sister's murdered body. To learn that a barbarian had not killed her, but perhaps a troll, was enough to further shatter his illusions of the world.

He might not believe in himself, but Ivy did. Wasn't that reason enough for him to be the goliath he always should have been? In control of his passions, emotions, and mind. Able to make the proper decisions in the best interests of his people, regardless of whether or not they benefited him.

Now was the time for change. Now they had to accept him. All parts of him. If they did not, he could not be their golock. They deserved better. He deserved better.

"Peace!" Lukor barked.

The goliaths and goliathas silenced, although a few more snarls and shoves were given.

Granting them the power to decide had been a colossal mistake. Gremma was right. He had to prove to them he was a capable leader. The only way to save face was to convince them to do what he wanted while making them believe the power remained in their hands.

"The twenty troll weapons we recovered from the battlefield might be enchanted. They might not be. Mayhap only the five elven ones are. We know the elves are helping the trolls. To destroy the barbarians? Perhaps. To try to provoke the so called "lesser" races into fighting and war and chaos until none live? More likely."

"To go against the elves is foolish," a goliatha cried out.

"They are cunning and tricksters, but they are not as skilled with a blade as we are. Yet I do think that going after the elves is not wise. At least not now." Lukor waited a moment, and the goliatha nodded. "There is also our homeland. Should we go there and bolster our own defenses as the barbarians are doing? What if the trolls decide to attack us next?"

"Sit around and wait?" a goliath scoffed.

"Attacking the trolls is yet another option, of course," Lukor added.

"The final one!" another goliath yelled.

A chorus of yells, mostly agreements, broke out.

"Not quite," Lukor disagreed. "If a few other goliaths and I were to go and seek out the new skuleader, for I am sure they have a new one already..."

Although it would be so nice if the trolls fought amongst themselves, Lukor knew they could not assume that. Assumptions meant death in this world, painful deaths.

"We could perhaps talk and learn what the elves have promised them," he finished.

The goliath pushed his way to the front and beat his strong chest. "That is rash and—"

"The rest of the goliaths and goliathas here would not be far and would be able to engage in battle at a moment's notice."

The goliath stroked his long, braided black beard before slowly nodding.

The other goliaths rallied such a loud roar of agreement that Lukor's ears rang for minutes afterward as they marched on. A few hours later, they reached the outermost ridge of the Land of the Skull — a desolate place with black twisted trees that grabbed onto passersby and squeezed until their blood excreted from every orifice. Some believed the Essence Trees had adapted and did not need sunlight to grow, only the blood they demanded from those foolish enough to trek too close. Skulls and bones from those less fortunate rested within the gnarled black roots of the closest trees.

"Stay here," Lukor commanded. He stripped himself of every weapon, even his concealed ones. The display of utter trust of the new troll leader had to be believable. After all, he had murdered the last skuleader.

Draggar handed Lukor the previous skuleader's head.

The golock accepted it. "You will come with me. And Golic." His gaze passed over Darcia. She did not look displeased. Smart goliatha. She was pushing her body as she marched. A few more days of rest, and she would be fit and better than ever, ready to slice into trolls, or anyone who dared to cross her wrongly.

To Darcia's right stood Karrina. Head held high but chin lowered, she was whispering to Varo.

Lukor eased through a few goliaths to reach them. "Varo, care to venture on this mission with me?"

Karrina patted her goliath's chest. "He will serve you well."

"That I know." Otherwise, he never would have suggested it. Lukor had learned a long time ago 'twas best to keep enemies where you could see them at all times. 'Twas why he had embarked on the trek with Ivy so long ago.

"I will follow you." Varo handed his assortment of weapons to Karrina.

Lukor refrained from tightening his fists. Most goliaths would have added gladly at the end of the expression. 'Twas a sign of respect and fealty. Varo omitting it did not shock Lukor, but it did alarm him.

The golock rushed to Golic's side. "Watch him at all times." He nodded to Varo, who now stood only a foot from them.

Four goliaths. A small enough group that the trolls would not feel threatened by their presence, or so Lukor hoped.

The trio flanked Lukor as he bowed at the waist to his goliaths and goliathas. After a moment, all of them, including Karrian, knelt down, heads lowered. The solidarity of the movement, the meaning behind it, moved Lukor. He would succeed in this venture. He had too.

The quartet of goliaths left, marching as one with Lukor in the lead. The dark grit that covered the land flew up, coating their boots and legs, particles dancing on the strong breeze to land in their mouths and eyes.

The Essence Trees grew closer together as they stalked toward the stronghold, and they had to walk in a line to avoid the long branches reaching toward them. The howling of the wind whistled through the thin black trees, a faint voice or two within it. Lukor held up a hand to halt their progression. Listening intently, he could hear cries for help on the wind.

"I've been here before," Draggar spoke up, his voice lower than a whisper, but harsh and powerful. "How I gained this." He gestured violently toward the long pink scar that marred his forest green flesh. From his forehead, down his cheek, over the left eyelid, the wound had claimed his eye, but had not made Draggar any less of a warrior. "Those voices aren't real. It's a trick. An illusion."

Lukor listened more. The voices were both female, too faint at first for him to recognize, but then his heart squeezed. Ivy. And Lucia.

Lucia's dead. No one can harm her now. And Ivy is more than capable of handling whatever may come her way.
Ivy would never call out for help like this. She was too stubborn and strong for that nonsense.

"Come," Lukor demanded, although he did not blame Golic and Varo for looking behind them with longing faces. "Your loved ones are fine." He eyed Golic curiously, wondering which goliatha had claimed his heart, or if he heard Lucia as well, but now was not the time for love, but war.

As they advanced, Lukor ignored the wind, even as it nipped against them, bitterly cold, so fierce it forced them back at times. The voices were now shouts of agony and terror, not just of Ivy and Lucia, but everyone he had ever cared about.

That no trolls came to meet them, whether with words or weapons, surprised Lukor, but then his wonder transformed into dread. What if they had only pretended to flee, to draw the goliaths away, and were already engaging the barbarians into battle? What if Ivy was already dead?

No. He couldn't believe that.

Over a slight hill in the grit sand, they stared down upon eight-foot tall Essence Trees, all within feet of each other, far too close for any to be able to venture through safely.

"How do we get past this?" Varo directed his question to Draggar.

Lukor ignored the slight, for he too did not know the answer and appreciated any advice the thirty-something goliath could provide.

"We never got anywhere near this close." Draggar hung his head, his eyes haunted. "I was the only one of the group to survive. A scouting expedition, to see why the trolls were butting against the barbarians so much. We were ambushed much farther away."

Walking parallel to the trees, far enough away that the long branches could not reach him, Lukor mused, "There is no gap. The trolls must have a way to get around them."

"Or over them." Golic glanced up, and Lukor did too. Not one bird or flying creature had soared overhead since they had ventured into this depressing place.

"Or perhaps under. After all, they are part dwarves." Lukor continued his trek parallel to the Essence Trees. One branch came dangerously close to him. He jerked back, the grit beneath his feet falling away. With ease, he captured his balance before he could fall. A kick of the grit sent some sand flying, only a portion of the sand disappeared, the air shimmering around it. "Did you see that?"

The other goliaths rushed over, and Lukor repeated his kick. To the left and right, the sand billowed about, but directly ahead, the sand disappeared.

Draggar produced a stone from within his clothes, and that too vanished. The black goliath grinned viciously, his teeth as sharp as knifes. "All of you stand back. I'll go through first."

Before Lukor could blink, the forest and lime green goliath ran through the shimmering part of the air and promptly disappeared. The golock held his breath, but no sign of the other goliath was found, for good or for ill.

After a long moment, only Draggar's head came back. "Come, let's go."

Varo went first, then Lukor, followed by Golic. The shimmering air was blinding hot at first before turning so cold Lukor thought he would turn into an ice block. The air felt strangely heavy, as if he was swimming in lieu of walking. It was hard to see against the brightness of the shimmer, but it abruptly ended, taking the coldness with it.

They had crossed the line of Essence Trees and now stood three feet from the bone drawbridge of Skull Stronghold. Few bones lay scattered in the ruined field before them, perhaps blown from the bridge by the fierce wind.

"It looks like a graveyard," Golic muttered.

"I don't like the look of it," Varo admitted.

"Especially without weapons." Draggar crossed his arms, his biceps bulging.

"It is not our comfort we are striving for, but theirs." Lukor strolled down the trollish drawbridge. Bones chipped and cracked beneath his feet, but he did not slow his pace. He was here on a mission.

He must succeed.