Age of the Gods: The Complete, twelve novel, fantasy series (The Blood and Brotherhood Saga) (198 page)

Borrik supposed that Seth knew what he was doing, and soon realized, when sharing how the grow houses worked to feed them in winter, that his master was showing the potential enemy for two reasons. One, to prove he had no fear of them retaliating and coming to claim his city, and two, to help this foreign leader better provide for his people. It was with that in mind that he sat at the table looking across at a group of still armored and armed men who accompanied them all for a meal.

“King Dolmas, I thank you for coming all this way to meet with me,” Seth began. “I hope our hospitality will meet your expectations, and you and those with you are welcome to stay as long as you like.”

“Thank you, King Seth,” the stout man replied.

“I apologize if I have offended you by telling you that your gods are false. I only do so to enlighten you to the truth.”

“And what truth is that? That you are the god we should bow to?”

“Of course not, good king. As I have shown you, we are poorly defended, and it is a struggle to survive the winter after having been stripped of everything by the former king. I do not wish animosity. I wish you and your people no harm at all. I do not want your worship, as I am no god. What I want, is for you to return home and demolish all the temples in your cities and towns. Destroy tapestries, idols, scrolls, and anything else that has to do with the divine. You see. It is all a lie.”

“What you say is heresy. All people know the gods are real.”

“What I say is the truth. We alone are the makers of our destiny. Men have the power to reshape our own world without false idols.”

“Do not make me rise from this table,” the stout king warned from directly across from Seth.

Borrik bared his teeth, but remained seated in acknowledgement of Seth’s raised hand.

“Summon your blessing, King Dolmas,” Seth suggested. “Go ahead. I will take no offense.”

Borrik watched as more than a minute passed as their guest’s brow creased in frustration. He knew his master was blocking the man’s power, but even so, he watched on to see what would be the result.

“You see, your gods have no power here, because my people give them none. All that joined you to this fair city have false gifts from false gods. Tell me, kind king, what is the purpose of those blessings?”

“To protect our homeland,” King Dolmas said without hesitation.

“Is that so? Then why not simply gift you with an impenetrable shield that covers all your land? Try again, King Dolmas, what are your blessings for?” Seth pushed.

“For battle. To prepare us to defend what is ours.” Dolmas tried again.

“Why not give you metal skin, like my brother the king of Valdadore?”

“I do not know, King Seth. There is a good reason, there must be. The gods are all-powerful.”

“No. Not here. Their power does not reach here and as such their lies and deceit can be seen. How many men have you killed, King Dolmas?”

“Hundreds or more.”

“So your gift has allowed you to kill hundreds. Then what is your gift truly for?”

“For killing, King Seth. It helps me kill.”

“That, my fair king, is the truth. Your false gods only give you the power to kill more effectively. All of your gifts are designed only to destroy the races of men. Don’t you see, the gods wish us all dead.”

“Then why not simply kill us themselves?” one of Dolmas’s companions asked.

“Because, as I have said, they are not all-powerful. They are not gods. They are mere tricksters bent on the destruction of man.”

“How is it that some are blessed with beauty and others blessed with the ability to bargain?” King Dolmas countered.

“What happens when one woman is more beautiful than all the rest? When one person is more wealthy?”

“Unrest. Fighting,” Dolmas answered.

“You see. It is a trick that plays to your vanity or your desires. Those who want power are given strength, those who want riches are given a sharp tongue and crafty mind, and those who want attention are given beauty. Blessings, though seemingly used for good reasons, only bring out the worst in humanity. See past the shroud, good king,” Seth concluded.

Borrik watched as those across the table each pondered his words looking for an argument, but he knew nothing of merit would be forthcoming, because what his master stated was true.

“One more thing, King Dolmas. I know what you have really prayed for. I can see it in your soul. Think tonight on what I have said, and find your prayers answered. Here your false gods cannot keep you from getting what you truly desire. Tomorrow we will discuss more.”

For the next two hours, Borrik pondered his master’s final words, wondering what it was that Seth meant by knowing prayers and fulfilling desires and such. After the feast wound down and their guests were shown to their rooms, Borrik joined Seth, Sara, and Xander in the corner of the hall where they had feasted, finally happy to discover what the words had meant.

“What did you mean by answering King Dolmas’s prayers, my king?” Borrik asked.

“King Dolmas has a flaw in the building blocks that make him who he is. Just as I can study and add to you, to create a warrior unparalleled, or make Xander’s son a new leg and the ability to walk, I could see that Dolmas had a condition of his own, and I repaired it.”

“What flaw, master? I could see nothing but his short stature.”

“That will remain, but his inability to satisfy a woman, or himself for that matter, and as such bring an heir to his kingdom is now corrected. I trust he will notice when he first awakes.”

When morning came and Borrik joined his master in the throne room, he entered to witness the visiting king shaking Seth’s hand vigorously, before striding from the keep, standing a tad taller than he had the day before. Seth had done it. He had gained an ally without drawing a drop of blood. He had shown another man that all he knew was but a lie cast before his eyes to keep him blind to the truth. In a nation that lay more than a month’s march away, the gods and all that mentioned them were about to be erased. Sure, there would still be followers of those gods, but Borrik knew it was only a matter of time. Whatever details his master and the visiting king had worked out were of no consequence to Borrik. What the king would tell his people when he went home was unimportant. The victory was the avoidance of a war and the gaining of an ally. If he could convince one king, he could convince them all. Believe it himself or not, Borrik knew his master was a god. The god. The only
true
god.

Garret entered the training and now breeding grounds of his vile soldiers. Hearing the gate slam closed behind him he nodded to the two men standing inside the gate, a silent order to follow. Without stopping, he heard more than watched as they fell into step in his shadow, pushing along a wide cart laden with freshly butchered cattle. Cage by cage he stopped and turning, grabbed a thick slab of the blood dripping meat before holding it through the bars to the famished beasts within. They were always hungry, though he did not starve them as Zorbin would have others believe. With their training schedule and the amount of exertion they underwent on a daily basis, they had near unending appetites.

Reaching through the bars, Garret held out a slab as the man-beast within took it gingerly. They knew better than to snatch it away, and they were accustomed to him bringing their meals. Perhaps they thought him their mother, he didn’t know, but as long as they obeyed his commands it didn’t matter. He was strangely proud of them, though he knew they were expendable. Perhaps he too had grown an odd attachment by feeding them each day and watching them grow strong and ferocious. Either way, he finished his task within an hour before wiping his hands clean and striding across the grassy sparring field littered with training dummies and various other implements. There, across the field, stood his beautiful bride to be, more appropriately dressed than on her previous visit, wearing leather, body-hugging breaches and a skin-tight bodice to match.

Though she looked absolutely edible in the ensemble, he couldn’t help but note that it was a similar look to the one his brother’s bride often wore. Shaking the thought from his head, he crossed the final distance separating them and wrapping his arm about her waist, looked on as Ashton and a pair of other healers assisted one of the beast mothers to birth her young. With gritted teeth, he watched as Ashton reached up inside the woman with his long fingered hands and extracted them once again, wrapped about the small head of a squirming, slime-covered, gross little babe. Nearly twenty minutes later another was extracted and then another. It went on for over an hour when at long last a sixth was pulled free. It was smaller than the rest, but seemed fully developed and as such allowed to live.

Garret watched as the healers severed the umbilicals of the creatures one by one, after tying them off tightly with string. Then, once the pups were free, they were handed off to be cleaned and examined by one of Ashton’s companions. Still watching on, it was only moments later when pushing on the hideous mother’s belly and tugging on the dangling, severed, umbilical cords, that Ashton pulled a great gelatinous mass of blood and tissue from the mother’s nether regions. As Ashton handed the repulsive sack to the new mother, Garret almost vomited as she began to gnaw upon the thing, spewing blood and slimy residue down her doglike chin until it was totally consumed.

Even as disturbing as it was, Anna at his side watched on without so much as wincing. When the creature’s disgusting appetite was sated, her pups were returned and put to her swollen tits to suckle.

“Nine more today,” Ashton said rising from where he sat with legs crossed upon the ground.

“Nine?” Garret asked.

“Yes. Last night we worked to speed ten mothers towards delivery, and today we begin bringing into the world the second generation of your new army.”

“So near fifty new soldiers will be born per day?”

“Until those are mature, yes.”

“You’re going to be needing more help just to maintain the process soon.”

“That, my friend, is the understatement of the century,” Ashton joked.

“I’ll see that you get it with our planned Choosing ceremony.”

Garret stood holding Anna at his side for several minutes while Ashton wiped his hands clean and ordered those who assisted him to prepare for the next mother. On the pups suckled and Garret watched the runt of the litter struggle to feed, wondering if he should put it down now out of mercy, but decided against it. If it did survive, it would be stronger than the rest for doing so. Those bound to death were more determined to live. Besides, even weak soldiers had their place, just as Zorbin had said the night before. Put them in the front to slow the enemy.

Turning to look about the facility, Garret knew that the five hundred cages contained within it would be filled within days. They needed more room, and he could think of only one place to put them. Half of the city was vacant. Thousands had died during the last battle and thousands more had left with Seth when he departed. Whole streets were devoid of a single inhabitant. He knew there were warehouses available that could house several hundred each and while his army grew he could demolish whole sections of city to build pens and cages. He needed to meet with Zorbin and get the builders under his employ to switch focus. The repairs to the city wall were nearing completion though the upgrades would simply have to wait until later.

Releasing Anna’s side, Garret turned, bowing low to her and pulling her hand to his lips he kissed it softly.

“Lady Anna, I am afraid that other duties must be seen to, though I will leave you in the capable hands of Ashton as I can see that you find this particular process rather interesting.”

“I do, my king. It is a fascinating miracle and horrid abomination at the same time. I find myself repulsed and yet filled with joy as each new life is pulled from the mother’s womb.”

“Then I hope you are not saddened by my leaving,” Garret said with a knowing smile.

“Oh. I am sure you can make up for it one way or another,” Anna said with a crooked grin.

“Oh, I bet I will.”

With that, Garret released her hand and turned to leave. Waving back over his shoulder as Ashton bid him farewell, he strode to the gate. Released by the guard outside, he saluted the man by bringing one fist to his chest before striding off towards the city beyond the castle. Knowing that Zorbin was taking a special interest in the city’s defenses, he had a good idea where he might find the man.

* * * * *

Striding about the repaired archers’ tower, Zorbin inspected the craftsmanship and nodded to himself as his beard bobbed up and down. The work was top notch, the new stones fit with the old seamlessly. Turning to climb down the narrow stairs that led to the city wall below, he found a familiar face staring up at him with a wide smile. Garret smiled often these days, but it no longer was a guarantee for good things to come. He wanted Valdadore restored and rebuilt, which was good, but his obsession with killing Seth at any cost was not a driving factor that Zorbin himself was willing to stand behind.

Climbing down the steep stairs, Zorbin peered over the side of the wall at the line of people seeking entry into the city. Taking a wild guess, it looked like several hundred were here at the southern gate. Guessing further, he would bet that more than half of them were not yet adults.

“Greetings, Zorbin,” Garret half shouted as he approached.

“What brings you to the wall, my king?”

“It is my wall, is it not?”

“I prefer to think of it as the people’s wall,” Zorbin admitted.

“True enough,” agreed Garret. “I came looking for you.”

“To what end?” Zorbin asked, fearful of the reply.

“I know you have your head into our defenses, which is all well and good, but I need most of our resources diverted elsewhere.”

There it was. Zorbin should have seen it coming he supposed. He would bet that this had something to do with Ashton. His efforts were being undermined by something or someone. Of that he was certain. Even so, there was little he could do.

“But, my king. We need to be prepared for an invasion.”

“We will be. We will. I do not want you to cease all rebuilding efforts, though will need the majority of your laborers to work elsewhere. No, don’t scowl at me, I have the city’s best interests at heart just as you do.”

Zorbin doubted it seriously. The king wasn’t thinking straight these days. His decisions were illogical, but Zorbin couldn’t organize a Choosing ceremony, oversee the rebuilding of the city’s defenses, and stay at the king’s side to usher him back onto the path of righteousness. It was more than one man could do on his own.

“What is it that you want to achieve by reallocating all of the workers I have spent months organizing and planning with to see our city protected?”

“I want to level sixth square and seventh too.”

“What? That’s insanity! There must be a thousand homes in those communities!” Zorbin nearly shouted, damning himself for his choice of words.

“I am aware, Zorbin. I’ve just passed through there and only saw one other soul, who wasn’t the least bit ashamed to be looting anything he could find.”

“But more come to the city every day, those homes are the perfect place for them to settle.”

“There are other homes.”

“Yes, but not in neighborhoods so grand as those.”

“Zorbin. See it done. I’ve decided.”

“To what end, Garret? I don’t understand why you would destroy two of the oldest, most historic districts in the city.”

“I need them to erect larger, more accommodating training grounds and housing for my new soldiers.”

“But, Garret, surely there is another…”

“No. This is what I want. See it done. I expect work to begin today.”

“Sirus’s and Sasha’s inn is located there. The home Linaya grew up in…”

“Enough, Zorbin. Linaya is gone and I no longer need her memory to haunt me.”

Zorbin felt sick to his stomach. He’d killed men by the hundreds, maybe more. He’d watched men slaughtered by the thousands, but he’d never in his life imagined that he would be following a man who acted on a whim. It was insanity. It had to be.

“I can see you doubt my decision, Zorbin. You and I are friends, and I tell you that I am well. My mind is well also. I know the consequences of what I do, and know already that more will have to be sacrificed to bring us a better future. I am sure you have heard the phrase that says ‘you have to reach your lowest to achieve your highest’. That is what we do now. We must do that which tears at our hearts today in order to achieve our goals for tomorrow.”

“And what is in your heart, Garret? What do you see for tomorrow? I can tell you what I see. Your hatred and quest for revenge will lead you into dark places where men don’t return from unchanged. The city we both love and are sworn to defend will be overrun by these beasts you breed to serve you. At what point will the scales tip, and we lose control over what it is that you have planned?”

“I am blessed by your friendship and concern for my wellbeing, and that of the city, Zorbin. I assure you that I am not blind to the perils we face. Together, you and I will see Valdadore restored to its former glory. For now, though, we must accept the path laid out before us and use that which the gods have provided, to set things right in the world.”

Zorbin hated that he loved the king as a brother. His gut and mind told him that the words were not real, just a ploy to get him to follow blindly, but his heart still had faith in the young king. Perhaps his words were true. Perhaps he could indeed see a path through this ruin to one of glory. Zorbin couldn’t see it. What other choice did he have but to follow his king’s orders?

“Fine, Garret. I hope you mean what you say. I’ll have demolition begin this afternoon and send you the engineers needed to design the new facilities that you seek.”

“Good, my friend. I look forward to seeing the progress.”

Zorbin watched as the king turned to stride across the wall, though before the man took a step he looked back as their eyes locked once more.

“One more thing, Zorbin.”

“Yes, my king.”

“The knights of Valdadore are an honored title we will no longer pursue. At this next Choosing ceremony, we will choose no new knights to follow in our path. Instead, I intend to begin a new elite division of the military in honor of my chosen god.”

“And what name do you give to these new warriors of Gorandor, my king?”

“Not Gorandor, my friend; Ishanya.”

-End