The Champions (22 page)

*****

Just an hour after dark King Sigrant rode atop his stallion.
The entire camp had been torn asunder in minutes and packed upon carts.
Currently, each and every whore was unconscious as their bodies changed. In a
long line of carts their naked forms were visible, each locked within an iron
cage. Though many eyes strayed onto them, none dared risk the consequence of
disobeying their king’s orders.

For several hours the huge train of carts and camp followers
trundled east, following the army that now chased Valdadore’s dwindling force.
Sigrant traveled with the dismantled camp. Behind him, his harem followed upon
foot. Though they had carriages to ride in, they each had decided that the
freedom of the night offered them better opportunity to realize their new
limitations.

The king was impressed with their ability to keep pace.
Already they had each fed upon at least two dozen other humans. Naturally they
were stronger than the humans. Faster too. But with each new vampire they
created, the stronger they became. He too could feel the power that had swollen
within him. They each fed him with power.

Now, already feeling lifetimes away from what he had been
merely hours ago, King Sigrant was forced to be careful with his reins. He had
broken two sets already. Also he had to intentionally slow his words. The
faster he became the faster he spoke and although he really didn’t notice,
others obviously did. Throughout the majority of the night they trailed the
army, growing ever nearer to the foreign capital city. King Sigrant could not
wait to walk the halls of the palace as he weighed all of his new options.

Both forces moved at an astounding pace, but rather than
press further and risk the camp being incomplete before the sun rose, Sigrant
called a halt a full five miles out from the enemy city and ordered the camp
erected again. Reports rolled in that the Valdadorians had made the city, and
Sigrant was not in the mood for a siege. It would be a full two days before his
siege engines and war machines caught up at this pace. He had two days to
prepare and create his new army. Valdadore was in for a surprise.

*****

Upon being struck by the bolt that ended his life, Seth’s
life force was parted from his body as with any other being upon Thurr, though
a bit of his consciousness remained in the flesh, slowly fading as the cells
died, and the synapses in the brain stopped firing.

Before all connections to life had ceased in his body,
however, he had been removed from the pole, and Sara had shared blood with him.
Had more life energy been within him, a residue of sorts, there might have been
a chance for him to rise again. As it was, the change to vampire was not
immediate, requiring a person to pass through death to be reborn as a vampire.
In order to complete the process, they had to start it alive, with enough
energy to sustain the change. Seth’s body had contained no such thing.

Over the hours the residue of life died, Seth’s memories
fading, and then something unexpected happened. Somewhere in the battle a
werewolf died. Though his aura and consciousness were elsewhere, enough residue
of Seth remained in the body to cause the werewolf’s life force, a force sworn
to the walking god who had created it, to join with Seth’s fallen body.

With new power, the body attempted to reanimate, and Sara’s
vampire blood mixed with Seth’s. Within seconds the power was expended as the vampiric
properties within Seth’s body attempted to heal the massive wound in his chest.

Again the body began to fade and again another werewolf
died. For a few moments healing began anew, then as before it stopped. Again
and again the process repeated, and then when the body was nearly completely
mended, a retreat was called. No more werewolves died. None loyal to Seth fell,
no more life parted their bodies to rejoin the corpse of the deceased death
mage. His body, and the last of his consciousness faded, swept away as the
brain finally stopped firing random impulses.

*****

Linaya was awakened by a knock upon the door, and rising
from the floor she felt amazingly well rested. Running her fingers through her
hair, in an effort to make it presentable, she pulled the door open to find
Gumbi on the other side. He stood in his polished armor, his impatience to be
on the move more than evident.

Linaya dared not delay, and stepping out of the door she
smiled briefly to her escort before going out into the road at his side.
Together they made their way back to and through the capital building before
entering that final dark chamber they had inhabited until the night before.

Within the room, unlike the previous day, many dwarven men,
most of them elderly, sat upon the ring of stools that encircled the hole in
the floor. These were the dwarven thanes, each royalty in their own right.
Linaya bowed low upon entering the room, showing her respect.

“My lords,” she said in greeting.

The room exploded in laughter and even Gumbi joined in, his
barrel chest heaving with the sound. Linaya was beyond confused, not
understanding what it was that the dwarven men found so amusing. It was not
until several minutes later, when the chamber quieted, that Gumbi finally
explained.

“Sorry, Lady Linaya, it seems there was a rumor that Zorbin
of the Ironfist clan had returned home with a hideous human wife. The thanes
only laugh because even they realize that the story is obviously untrue, and
your description was greatly exaggerated to make the rumor more believable.”

“Exaggerated
how
?” Linaya asked, somewhat offended,
though understanding a bit better the dwarven culture.

“It was said that though you were frightful to look upon,
you had backside like a sack of boulders and everyone knows that the men of
Ironfist are all very fond of backsides.”

Linaya laughed as well. Often Garret teased that from
certain angles she appeared to be a boy, so small was her bottom.

“You’re not near as hideous as we was told neither!” one of
the dwarves commented.

“Well, you see, that I can appreciate,” Linaya replied, her
smile growing larger. Dwarves enjoyed giving each other a hard time. By picking
on her, they were in effect accepting her.

She found herself a seat amongst the many gray beards and
settled in with them to peer through the portal in the floor just as light
began to brighten the darkness below.

*****

Finally light was restored to the coliseum, and Zorbin stood
upon the mound of stone and spikes. Summoning his blessing he peered around but
found no sign of the previous night’s attacker. Assured he was at least
somewhat secure, he closed off the power that flowed through him and retrieved
the pack of food he had acquired.

Tearing the straps from the pack, Zorbin approached the
dwarf he had killed the day prior. Removing the laces from the dwarf’s boots,
and tearing off some strips of his clothing, Zorbin seated himself and got to
work. Two hours later he stood again, his shattered arm bound securely to his
side. Moving and stretching Zorbin assured himself that the bindings would not
impede his ability to wield a weapon. Convinced, he gathered up his remaining
axe and the food and water.

Setting out, he began straight back the way he had come the
day before. Already familiar with the terrain he was able to make good time and
by midday he found himself halfway up the ramps to the platform above.
Stopping, having gained a decent vantage point of nearly half of the coliseum,
he peered around the vast chamber below and within seconds located a foe. The
dwarf approached him from nearly a mile off, not even bothering to disguise or
hide his coming.

Zorbin wondered at the dwarf’s blessing. Was it the same man
he had fought in the dark the previous night? He had no way of knowing. All he
could do was wait. Sitting upon the ramp, he dared his adversary to come.
Though it appeared the dwarf slowed slightly, he kept nearing and Zorbin
concentrated on the upcoming battle. If he killed the dwarf, he would leave
this ceremony alive.

The dwarf came and went, circling past the ramp that Zorbin
sat upon. Knowing this was likely a ploy, allowing his foe to climb yet another
ramp and sneak up behind him, Zorbin took matters into his own hands. Standing
once again, he rushed down the ramp and gave chase. Nearly to the bottom, a split
second after he had time to do anything about it, he watched as a hand shot up
from the stone ramp he ran down.

Closing around his foot, the protruding hand tripped him and
sent him rolling down the remainder of the ramp. Hitting the stone surface below
with a thud and a grunt, the dwarf who had passed was upon him. Zorbin exploded
in size, but even so his enemy was extremely strong.

Finally Zorbin knew what he was up against. His remaining
foes had formed an alliance. The one that now pummeled him with a pair of
medium rock hammers was blessed with strength and probably endurance; the
other, who now appeared, could walk through stone.

Each was a formidable foe alone, but working together,
Zorbin saw little chance of defeating the pair. Though pain exploded over his
body time and again as the hammers landed, bruising and splitting flesh, he
realized something. He did not need to defeat them both, only one of them.

Deflecting what blows he could, Zorbin attempted to
reposition his body just as the second dwarf joined in beating upon him.

*****

Garret stood outside the western gate of the city until the
last member of his army had gone through. Decided that no more were coming, he
entered himself and ordered the gate closed. Behind him the giant doors smashed
shut as wood and metal beams were dropped into place, barring them closed. More
beams were placed into notches in the road and braced against the door.

Battle-weary soldiers and archers climbed the stairs up the
massive walls, taking their places to defend the city without so much as a
spoken order. All of them realized that this was the last stand. If they did
not keep the enemy outside the wall it was all over. Taking posts upon the wall
they all waited and watched for the enemy to come.

They soon realized that Sigrant’s forces had no wish to come
within bowshot but instead began to set camp a few miles off, easily visible
from the top of the wall. Garret paced the wall, wishing the enemy would
attack. He did not want time to think about the events that had transpired. He
dared not be overwhelmed by emotion. He stood and watched, waiting for the
invaders to make their move. Nothing happened.

*****

Linaya watched as Zorbin sat himself upon one of the ramps,
an enemy approaching him from a distance, slowly. She also observed as another
dwarf came from the rear and vanished into the stone of the platform complex.
She realized long before Zorbin did that he was being set up, yet there was
nothing she could do about it. If she were to lean through the hole and yell he
would surely hear her, but she doubted that the thanes seated around her would
appreciate cheating. All she could do was watch in silent agony as Zorbin took
up a chase that resulted in him being savagely beaten by both of his opponents.
She knew he could only take so much.

*****

Zorbin, beset upon by both of his remaining competitors,
only had one option available to him. Twisting his huge body to the side he
placed his already shattered arm nearest his enemies. Though they beat upon him
relentlessly with boot and hammer and fist, at least now they primarily beat on
an arm that was already useless.

Playing possum, Zorbin closed away his blessing and
instantly shrank. His sudden size shift caused his foes to rush in nearer to
finish him off, thinking him unconscious. When they came within range, however,
Zorbin again connected to his blessing and exploded in size. His rapid
expansion tripped up both of his opponents and sent them sprawling.

Spinning upon his side, Zorbin targeted the first dwarf that
he found and, kicking out with both feet, caught the dwarf square in the face.
So sudden and vicious was the attack that the dwarf’s head snapped backwards to
an odd angle before he crumpled to the ground in a heap.

Only one dwarf besides himself remained. Now the only thing
to do was make the other dwarf submit. Zorbin rolled to his knees and climbed
to his feet. Turning he located his foe who was already charging him and
brandishing the pair of hammers.

Leaning into the blow, Zorbin dropped his shoulder and in
turn charged the dwarf that rushed him. With his superior size, he half
collided, half tripped over the smaller dwarf, and together they tumbled to the
ground. Kicking and rolling, the two battered each other relentlessly, but with
his greater size Zorbin came out on top, pinning the much smaller dwarf to the
ground beneath him.

“Submit!” Zorbin growled.

Awaiting an answer for several moments, the other dwarf made
not a sound, yet continued to squirm and fight. Raising his good hand, Zorbin
balled his fingers into a huge fist before smashing the smaller dwarf full in
the face. Nose, teeth, and jaw crumpled under the blow in a spray of blood. His
foe gurgled.

“Now listen, you stubborn bag of bones,” Zorbin began. “You
and I need to walk out of here in agreement, you see?” Zorbin didn’t wait for a
reply, as he didn’t expect one. Instead he kept on talking.

“If you prefer I can sit here beating you until all your
insides are jelly, but eventually you will do as I tell you.” Zorbin paused,
letting his words sink in. “If you and I don’t crawl out of this damned pit in
agreement they will just toss us back in, so here is what I suggest.” Zorbin
told his enemy of his plan. Eventually, only moments into his speech, his
opponent nodded his agreement and cautiously Zorbin climbed off the dwarf whose
face was rapidly swelling beyond recognition.

Together the pair walked up the steeply sloping ramp to the
surface, Zorbin helping to guide his ally. Reaching the top they paused as a
ladder was lowered from above. Zorbin allowed his companion to make the climb
first, and followed him up seconds later having once again returned to his
normal size.