Age of the Gods: The Complete, twelve novel, fantasy series (The Blood and Brotherhood Saga) (134 page)

Unsure what ratio of rat to human he would need, he estimated and poured the rodent life forces into his first round of subjects. Each of them fell to the ground writhing in ecstasy as their auras melded with those of the rats. Each of the children’s skulls began to elongate, stretching to a point in the front, and dome in the rear. Large teeth sprouted from the fronts of their mouths, as hair began to sprout and thicken upon their faces and bodies. Seth found it odd as muscles began to develop beneath the flesh of the normally undeveloped teens. Their ears grew and grew, becoming large circular additions to the sides of their heads. The children’s arms lengthened, and their back legs grew thick and muscled beneath the fur. A tail snaked out from the base of their spines, which too thickened slightly and curved, giving the teens a slightly hunched look, forcing their heads and thickened necks forward. Just as Seth had hoped, their fingers grew into sharp claws, and toes became thick and strong, also ending in razor sharp claws. He had judged right.

Just like his wolves, it took about two thirds human to one third rat. In this case, the one third rat consisted of nearly fifty of the creatures’ auras. As their changes completed, the young warriors began to rise and appraise themselves and one another as well. This is why he was taking them in groups. Seeing that they were not alone in the change, the children took to it more easily.

One of the boys, perhaps fourteen, flexed his new muscles for a pair of the girls before leaping up to the rafters with a single bound. Once there, he bit through a corner of one of the stout wooden beams, chewing the wood as if it were bread before leaping back down once again. Seconds later, all of Seth’s new creations were taking to the walls and rafters, learning their new bodies in little time at all. Children were better suited to the change it seemed, with a rapid ability to adapt. Though unfortunate, they were his only choice, it appeared the children were going to serve his purpose quite well.

* * * * *

Linaya stood back, holding her steed by the reins. The warhorse had run with a single dire wolf before, but even the well-mannered and highly trained beast was beginning to show signs of doubt. Just a hundred yards ahead of her nearly two thousand dwarves, each with a blessing that lent itself to war, mounted a dire wolf of their own. It was an incredible sight, especially for a race that did not generally use mounts. Zorbin had been an oddity in this respect.

She was still uncertain how Zorbin could explain such a desire to Xanth, and beyond that how in the world Xanth was able to communicate that to nearly two thousand other wolves. It had to be a man thing. A grunt here, a snarl there, and wholla, problem solved. It sure as hell didn’t make any sense to her, how it had been accomplished, but nonetheless, she was ecstatic that it was.

The plan was fairly simple. She and the mounted dwarves would rush ahead to lend aid to Valdadore as quick as was possible, and nearly twenty thousand other troops would follow on foot to arrive in about ten days. She estimated that she and the mounted dwarves could make it in two to three days depending on the speed of the wolves, and exact distance to Valdadore.

Placing her foot in a stirrup, she pushed herself up and swung her leg over the saddle, climbing upon her own mount. Looking ahead, she pulled the reins as Zorbin motioned for her to come to the front of the line.

Joining the knight of Valdadore, she took her place beside him as they began at a slow trot, allowing those behind to grow accustomed to riding.

“Up here yer mount won’t be seein’ all them wolves, scaring the balls off of it,” Zorbin explained to a replied nod from Linaya.

Made sense, except for the balls part. Obviously another man thing. Nonetheless, they were on their way to Valdadore. As expected, however, within those first minutes dozens of dwarves fell from their mounts, bruising buttocks and egos alike, but before an hour they managed to pick up the pace with only a few minor setbacks.

As they raced along at a steady run, Linaya exalted with the wind in her hair, knowing she was going home. She imagined running into Garret’s arms, the contingent of mounted dwarves standing behind her, a show of her contribution. Sure, maybe she didn’t do much to acquire the troops, but it was her fantasy, so who would be the wiser?

Smiling, she kicked the flanks of her mount, driving it to faster speeds. Zorbin and Xanth kept pace easily, and behind them an immense pack of bounding beasts carrying armored dwarves rose and fell with each powerful lunge for as far as the eye could see. High above them, the two moons chased the sun across the winter sky.

Borrik sniffed and sniffed, catching a faint scent here and a stronger one there. He had been charging headlong through the forest for hours to no avail. Every time he thought he lost the trail he would catch the scent again, but could swear that he had already traversed this area before. Turning off the trail of the scent, he instead decided to climb the hillside and find a better vantage. Perhaps from the top of the hill he could perceive a better course to take. Running, still, as fast as his four limbs would take him, he picked out a safe route with his keen eyes. It came completely unexpectedly when his foot caught a root, causing him to trip and careen end over end, right into a bush filled with huge thorns that he could swear had not been there just a moment before.

Climbing to his feet, he extricated himself from the itchy, pokey, and painful annoyance, plucking the thorns from his flesh and fur where armor did not protect him. Droplets of blood trickled from the tiny wounds, tinted an odd shade of brown. Borrik could not recall seeing his blood that color before. Stalking away from the bush, he felt as if he might have hit his head in the fall. It felt heavy upon his neck, wanting to lean this way and that to drag him off course. He stumbled once, and caught himself before running directly into a tree that he had not seen there just seconds before.

As his eyes closed he swore to himself that something unnatural was going on in the forest.

Borrik floated in a cloud of blackness. Looking below him, he could see his temple. The one he had maintained and watched over near his whole life. Now, however, a mutated woman who was a grotesque mix of human and orc stood upon the dais, preaching the beliefs of Ishanya to a large crowd of followers. Then he was gone, floating away on the cloud once more.

Again a scene appeared below him and he stood below himself, naught but wolf and man, leading a charge against the black horde. Ahead of him, Seth and Sara vanished into thin air. The sight still put knots in his stomach.

The cloud carried him away once more and he watched himself riding a giant to the ground, a makeshift spear protruding from within its eye socket.

Next he was dragging the injured king, and spun to witness the impaled form of his master, a god among men whether he believed it or not. Oddly, Seth’s corpse twisted upon the pole it was impaled upon and looked at him, raising an arm to point at him. Not to the him dragging the king, but the him riding the cloud. The whole thing made Borrik feel uneasy, but then it was gone, only to be replaced once again.

This time he looked down upon himself standing next to his master. Both wore leathery wings and armor. Sara too was at their side, and others were with them that he did not recognize through their helms and visors. Behind them stood an immense army, armored and clothed in black, that stretched from horizon to horizon. Across from them stood another army, the two facing each other across a great field of battle. Borrik heard the familiar cry, “
For Valdadore
”, before once again the scene was gone, and his black cloud opened to engulf him, dragging him down into darkness.

* * * * *

From the top remaining floor of the tower at the corner of the ancient Shadra keep, Sara stood in a shadowed alcove overlooking the return of three of the tree men, who had left shortly after she had gone exploring. Entwined in one of their branches was a tangled mess of gray fur, leather, and armor, that she could not quite make out from this distance.

The tree people lowered the bundle to the ground, stretching it out before securing it down with their own rooted feet. She could not believe what she was seeing. Leaping from the building, she sprinted faster than she could ever recall and with a single bound cleared the remnants of the outer wall of the keep. Sliding to a stop, she arrived just in time to hear the tree things speaking.

“It smells like poison and death,” said the first tree man.

“You mean like the Plague bearer?” a second asked.

“Yes,” replied the first. “I think like she, it is a creation of the Abomination.”

Then the third tree man turned to face her.

“Does this creature belong to you, Plague Bringer?”

“Yes, he is a friend of mine,” Sara replied quickly. “What has happened to him?”

Sara looked over the limp body of Borrik. He was swollen all over, his flesh bulging everywhere it escaped his armor. His eyes darted beneath their lids, and even through his fur it was obvious he was perspiring at an alarming rate.

“Bramble put him to sleep with the sap from his thorns, but do not fret, Plague bringer, he will rise again.”

With that the tree men removed their feet from his arms and legs, freeing him from their holdings. Sara, though physically much smaller than the fallen wolf man, pulled him up to a seated position and, ducking under his arm, managed to lift him and drag him up the hill to the ruins without much hassle. There she sought the shadows, dragging the limp form of Seth’s second in command with her. Once safely in the dark, she stripped his armor, allowing his flesh the chance to breathe.

She did not know how he had found her, but was torn between being grateful he had come, and being disappointed that she still did not have an idea what she was going to do. All that was left for her now, however, was waiting for him to recover. Sitting silently she did just that, pondering what would drive him to seek her out, unless the war was over. Had Valdadore fallen so easily?

* * * * *

Seth spent the day melding children with rats, ten to fifteen at a time. Though most handled the change well, there were those who despised the alteration. But there could be no help for it. Seth’s heart went out to the children, though he could not afford to become emotionally invested in them. Such a bond would lead him to making bad decisions in the heat of the moment, and that could not occur again.

Always he reminded himself, when one cried out, repulsed by what they had become, that without their sacrifice they would all fall to Sigrant’s superior army. Again and again he repeated the process, sending the completed warriors to the wall to stand guard. It was late in the day, the sky already growing dim, when the first boulder struck the defensive wall surrounding the city. He had completed some eight hundred new troops so far, but was nowhere near ready for an attack.

Fleeing the building, leaving the altering children upon the floor to fend for themselves when the process completed, he was joined by Jonas.

“See to the children!” Seth shouted, before shedding his cloak and leaping into the air to begin flapping his immense wings. A gust of magical wind exploded below him, driving him up to the wall in an instant. Landing heavily in his hurry, he arrived just in time to watch another boulder impact the castle wall. Thus far, both hits had managed little effect, and so low on the wall, where it was the thickest and strongest, it would take considerable time to create a breach. Seth watched the next boulder fly, and throwing up a magical gust of wind it fell just a few feet short of the wall, rolling to a stop before making a scratch.

Peering into the darkness he could see near a hundred different such mechanisms in different states of erection. Little auras scrambled around the things, like ants upon a carcass. Within hours the war machine would be joined by dozens more. By morning they would all be functional. Seth knew he should do something about the machines. He could snuff the life out of the workers manning them easy enough.

Just then a huge ball careened overhead, its shell shattering as it struck a building beyond the wall. Oil exploded over everything for a hundred feet in all directions, ignited by the very lamps the city hung in the streets for light. Several buildings went up in flames in an instant. From them, burning people leapt from the upper levels, and came scurrying out from the ground levels.

Seth turned to lay waste to the war machines, but as he reached out across the fields, the sky lit up as magical fireballs and ice came hurling from afar, aimed at various locations upon Valdadore’s walls. Throwing up a magical barrier instead to protect the defenders, he could not risk an attempt to destroy the machines that might strain him. Sigrant had planned his attack well.

Holding the magic at bay, there was no one to thwart the war machines’ attack. Except for the king.

Chains clinked and wood groaned as the portcullis was raised, and the massive door upon the western wall of the city swung wide. From inside emerged the giant gleaming form of Garret’s body, for he alone was immune to the bite of the monsters under Sigrant’s control. With a broad sword in one hand and the shield Seth had created for him in the other, Seth watched his brother’s giant form charge across the fields.

While his brother charged, another giant clay projectile breached the city, setting yet another location on fire. Barrage after barrage of magical blasts continued, but Seth held them at bay. The defenders upon the wall could only watch, unable to do anything about the attack. Seth wanted to seek out the mages and kill them, or kill the men controlling the machines, but if he did his allies would be unprotected. “Sparing lives is all that matters,” Seth reminded himself.

He waited and watched as Garret neared the machines, and was immediately beset upon by the fire breathing beasts they had been warned about when the news had first arrived of the invasion. They were hideous creatures, even from the wall, with metal armor, glowing eyes, and gaping maws. Blasts of fire reached out through the air from nearly a hundred locations, every one of them turning their fiery breath on the king. His skin was like metal, and as such he was immune to most harm, but not heat. Seth watched him raise his shield, but the fire was not magical and as such was not absorbed. Garret was in trouble, and once again Seth was forced to decide an impossible decision. Drop his magical shield and leave his defenders in harm’s way to protect Garret, or protect the defenders and watch his brother’s flesh melt from his bones. If only Borrik had returned, the winged man could fly out and rescue the king, but Seth had sent him away. Again the death of a loved one would be Seth’s fault.

Seth cringed at the thought. He hated the gods for the impossible positions they put him in. Then it occurred to him. Instead of protecting the men, simply make them disappear.

“Retreat!” Seth Yelled. “Flee your posts and take cover behind the wall!”

His order was passed down the wall and in seconds the various defenders began to vanish. Seth bid them to hurry, and dropping his shield after a few moments more he reached out with tendrils of his power as he leapt from the wall into the night. Locating the mages who continued to barrage the city, he found them by seeking their god-infused auras. Their numbers had been diminished greatly in the days previous, and as such Seth gripped them all at once and stripped them of life in an instant before calling to life the magical wind he still needed to stay aloft.

Soaring like the airborne missile that had struck him down just a day before, Seth reached out to the beasts that breathed fire upon his brother. Each of them had multiple auras that moved independently within the creatures. Without time to examine them he grasped at those nearest and stripped them away. Still the giant creatures remained, the fire continuing to spew from their mouths. Seth imagined them some kind of demons, and watched as Garret ran from the trails of fire that followed in his wake, threatening to destroy the king. Swooping towards his brother, he shifted the wall of power that held him aloft and directed it at one of the beasts.

Watching as he glided downward, the metallic beast leaned over to one side, its fire stopping suddenly before it flipped the remainder of the way over with yet another gust. A moment later the thing began to whistle loudly as smoke poured from its every orifice. Then, without warning, the beast exploded. Seth and Garret were both caught unaware by the blast, and Garret was thrown from his feet. Seth, on the other hand received worse than his brother. From the explosion, thousands of pieces of jagged steel blasted out in all directions. One second he was aloft, the next great holes were blasted in his wings, his abdomen, and his thigh.

Seth plummeted from the air, his body mending as he fell. He flapped and flapped his wings but the injuries to them were so great he was falling faster than he was healing. Calling upon his magical wind again he tried to stay aloft, but barely managed to slow his fall. The further he fell the slower he fell, but it became apparent quickly that he was not going to land comfortably.

Slamming to the ground with a series of snaps as his bones broke, puncturing out of his skin in several locations, Seth expected to be set upon, and he was not mistaken. No sooner did he open his eyes after impact, than a giant hand reached down, snatching his destroyed body up and off of the ground. He imagined it was something like this that had happened to Sara. Shifting his weight the best he was able, he was surprised to find himself in the hand of his brother the king. Carried aloft, Seth’s body mended as his brother rushed them back towards the castle. Before even making the massive gate, Seth turned over and leapt from his brother’s hand, taking to the sky again.

Straight up to the top of the wall he soared. Without the pesky mages throwing their magics into the city, and without Garret facing an enemy he couldn’t fight out in the fields, Seth could finally get back to work.

Focusing his power, Seth unleashed a series of wicked green and yellow fireballs to smash into the boulder-throwing war machines. Just as he intended, the giant projectile-hurling mechanisms caught fire like kindling, and became raging infernos within seconds. Out on the field, all of the remaining fire-breathing beasts turned and strode away. Seth did not know what they were, but he knew they were dangerous.