The Champions (23 page)

Though they lived, both dwarves were in need of healing
attention and climbing through the hole they each in turn collapsed to the
floor where healers appeared out of the shadows to tend to them. Several hours
later, as speech was restored to one and an arm to the other, the thanes came
to stand before the two dwarves. They looked upon them, already knowing what
had transpired, and awaiting the words that were required.

*****

Linaya watched in disbelief as Zorbin turned a terrible
situation on its head. One second she was sure he was a goner, his blessing
having appeared to have abandoned him. The next he exploded once more, and with
a ferocious kick one of his enemies ceased to exist. Seconds later her fellow
Valdadorian sat atop his remaining foe, pummeling him into a bloody mess.

Though the scene that played out before her was both brutal
and violent, Linaya could not help but feel relieved and excited. Not only had Zorbin
survived but he also had won. Rocking back on her heels she sighed loudly, a
grin appearing upon her face. The thanes around her noted her happiness and one
even dared pat her on the back, realizing that a great weight had been lifted
off her shoulders.

Less than half an hour later the two dwarfs climbed through
the portal in the floor and immediately healers rushed to their aid. After all,
one of the men who climbed from that hole was officially the king of the entire
dwarven nation now.

For over three hours the dwarven healers said prayers and
chanted over their injured kindred. Slowly the dwarfs’ wounds vanished and as
the healers finally stepped aside, their work complete, the previous king and
his thanes surrounded the pair upon the floor.

Linaya watched the following moments as words were traded at
first in dwarven, then switching to the human tongue to include her. It was
Zorbin who spoke first.

“I, Zorbin of the Ironfist clan, swear my fealty to Dronik
of the Rusty Beard clan as the one true King of the Dwarves of Boulder Gate.
Furthermore, I swear to uphold my new king’s first order as is my duty as one
of his subjects.”

An audible gasp came from all those gathered in the room,
including Linaya herself. All of them had witnessed Zorbin pummeling the Dronik
fellow nearly to death. It had been obvious what the outcome had been. Why was
it, then, that Zorbin was saying that this other dwarf had won the competition?

“As king to the twelve clans and leader of the dwarven
nation, I order the armies of Boulder Gate assembled and ready to march to
Valdadore’s aid by morning.”

Another gasp. Though it would not be evident to Linaya until
hours later when Zorbin explained what had transpired, everyone else in the
room realized in an instant what had happened. Though Zorbin had been the
obvious victor, he was an outcast. Many considered him a traitor to their race.
Had he taken the rulership of the nation it was possible that a civil war could
have followed. The chances of leading a dwarven army to Valdadore’s assistance
would have been slim to none. Instead, the dwarf had been wise beyond his years
and had come to terms with the man he had defeated. He would trade a lifetime
of leadership to the nation for a single battle campaign. Each of the thanes in
their own time nodded their heads in understanding before departing the room.
Linaya remained, stunned.

The old king, a gray beard of more than seven hundred years,
knelt down low beside the new king and carefully removed his crown from his
brow. Gently, he handed it to Dronik to usher the dwarven nation into a new age
and a new generation. Rising slowly, the old king spoke some words in his
native tongue before he turned and strode from the room to live out his days in
peace.

Linaya watched as Zorbin and Dronik rose and each turned to
face her and Gumbi who still remained.

“It seems we have a war to plan, Gumbi,” Dronik said with a
thick accent to the dwarf who was his elder by at least double.

“Indeed, my king, I am happy to serve you,” Gumbi answered.

“Wait, what?” Linaya asked, obviously confused.

“Gumbi is the kingdom’s war councilor to the king. Though
the thanes all lead their own troops, they all answer to Gumbi, like a general
in the Valdadorian army,” Zorbin answered.

“But why did you give away the kingship to him?” she asked
pointing to Dronik before realizing what it was she was doing. “Sorry, I mean
no disrespect, I just don’t understand…”

All three of the dwarves in the room laughed at her openly.
It was not her fault she did not understand the ways of dwarves, but it was
amusing to watch her swim upstream.

Zorbin told her that he would explain it all later, but
first they needed to plan for the following day. Linaya’s visit had been
useless, but Zorbin had somehow saved the day. Linaya was excited and when
asked to leave the dwarves to their planning, she happily complied, returning
to the luxurious bed she had foresworn the day previous. This time she jumped
into its silky depths. When next she awoke Zorbin stood over her. It was the
middle of the night, and the look upon his face was a serious one.

He explained to Linaya what had transpired and why he had
done it. He also explained that it had all been Gumbi’s plan. Finally he got to
the facts that really mattered to Linaya. Boulder Gate would be supplying help
to the human kingdom of Valdadore. That aid would come in the form of one
hundred thousand armed and armored troops, including more than a thousand
blessed with abilities that made them champions in battle. They would march the
following day and the trip on foot would take the dwarves about three weeks.
Most of the dwarves had never seen the surface, and would need time to adjust
to the light and the differing consistencies of the ground they trod upon.

Following Zorbin, Linaya left the house that had been lent
to her, and together they walked to one of the many secret entrances to the
dwarven kingdom. This one was only an hour from the city. Stepping out into the
night, Linaya looked down upon the glinting steel armor of a hundred thousand
dwarven soldiers. Both moons clung to the sky, lighting the way, and below, the
ground shook beneath the trampling feet of the dwarven army. Linaya smiled.

Seth stood in a round room with no windows or doors. A layer
of thick dust coated the ground and above the room a hole was barely visible in
the ceiling where once a staircase had passed into the floor above. He had been
here before. He had escaped here before. Yet here, now, no evidence of his
prior escape remained.

He knew the room was not real. It was either a dream or a
memory, but in either case it did not matter. He felt her in the room, but he
refused to acknowledge her presence. His vision of the gods showed her power
encircling his own, swallowing it, so immense was her aura. Still he ignored
her, pretending not to notice that she had come.

“You have failed me,” came her voice in a vehement hiss. “I
gave you everything you needed to succeed and still you failed.”

Seth did not reply; he didn’t care.

“I gave you the power to change the world, to make it
better. I gave you the power to save the woman you love and you repay me by
pissing on it all,” the goddess whispered, her rage poisoning the air in the
room.

“You gave me enough to hang myself with and nothing more.
What progress I made was my doing with no credit to you,” Seth spat into the
darkness.

“Progress? You call the mess you left, the plague you
began…progress? You are nothing!”

“If I am nothing, the one who brought you the followers you
needed to survive, then what does that make you?” Seth grinned inwardly, caring
not if he angered her.

“It is unwise to tempt those who hold your life in their
hands,” Ishanya stated.

“My life is over,” he shrugged.

Out of the darkness, a shadow appeared and from that shadow
she coalesced, her body slowly taking form, a blight within the darkness. As
before her hair was braided in small, tight rows that clung to her scalp before
trailing down her back. Upon her body she wore wicked armor, darker than night,
both beautiful and menacing. Under her arm she held a helm in the visage of a
demon’s face with huge horns that curled out to each side. She looked upon him,
her nostrils flaring. Sadly, she reminded Seth of Sara, at least to a degree.

He wished he could be with her now. She needed him, and he
needed her. Something about them together made each of them better. Without
him, she would be forever foresworn from the light, forced to live an eternity
in darkness. He needed to get back to Sara.

Seth wished that she was his only concern, but Garret too
needed him. Without Seth, Valdadore did not stand a chance at holding out
against Sigrant’s forces. Without Seth, Garret would likely lose his mind to
rage, forgetting his responsibilities. It was his brother that had wanted to be
a soldier. He had wanted battle and glory. Now he had lost so much in the last
few months that Seth knew Garret was near the edge. If he stepped over, there
would be no coming back.

Borrik and the werewolves also needed Seth. Without him they
would have no real purpose and would likely break down into more feral groups,
turning upon the humans from which they were spawned. Though Borrik had been a
priest with morals and beliefs, because of Seth he had put that behind him to
become a killer. He needed Seth to remind him of his humanity.

There were a hundred reasons Seth needed to return to Thurr;
a hundred things he had planned to see though until the end. There was so much
he had left unfinished that even without a body his heart hurt for the want of
life. Angered at his own weakness, his own failures, he lashed out at the
goddess who had led him to the power he needed to fix all that he had broken.
He needed her to send him back; he needed to convince her that he could serve
her better.

“Send me back,” Seth said, more a question than a demand.

*****

Already Ishanya could see that he was slipping. Within
minutes he would vanish from this world and return back from whence he came.
There was nothing she could do about it. It was out of her hands, beyond her
control. Looking upon the eternally weaving tapestry of time she saw where the
threads of his life and his body intertwined yet again. It raced near.

Though she had not anticipated it, and not planned it,
somehow the sum of his failures had been a success. Though it had not been a
victory for her, causing her to lose a great portion of her hold on this game
that she had started, he had become more than mortal. Even now his body
regenerated, and just as it would start to tug at his soul across the planes,
it would stop again.

Though she had lost a handle on him in some capacity, she
could still bend him to her will. All Ishanya needed to do was convince him
that she held the power over his life. He needed to think he was indebted to
her. Ishanya formulated her plan.

“Returning you to your mortal flesh would do you little
good, tiny mage. Your body lays destroyed, useless. There is no vessel to
return your soul to,” she lied to her servant.

“You could fix it,” he replied, trying to keep his voice in
check.

“Your beloved princess is a captive of the enemy. He plans
to torture her for all eternity,” she lied again, playing to his fears.

“Why if you plan to keep me here do you not just end me and
absorb my power?” Seth asked in anguish.

Ishanya pondered the question. If she could do as he said,
she would have done so already. Alas, she was unable, and as such she was
forced to let him return. Time was running short; a bargain would have to be
struck and quickly.

“If I were to send you back, we would have to agree on some
new terms.” Ishanya gave him a hint of hope.

“Anything you desire of me, my goddess,” Seth offered, the
words feeling like death as they parted his lips. Seth of all people understood
that striking a bargain with a god was ill-advised.

“I can send you back but every moment you will abide by my
rules. If not I will see to it that everything you love is destroyed.”

“Yes, mighty Ishanya.”

“If I send you back you will no longer be fully human. Like
your beloved princess you will become a creature of the night. If this becomes
a limitation to your ability to serve me I suggest you fix it!”

“Yes, my goddess.”

Ishanya needed to hurry.

“A plague has been unleashed into the men of the world. You
must quickly end the war and diminish its spread.”

“Yes Ishanya, anything you wish.”

“If I decide to send you back, as soon as your puny war is
done, you will leave your kingdom and travel the world gathering me followers
by any means necessary.”

“Yes, as you wish.”

Ishanya had him where she wanted him. He would return to the
realm of the living whether she liked it or not. Now, however, he had sworn to
do all she demanded. She would keep close tabs upon him to be sure he did. So
long as he thought that she would hurt those he loved or again remove him from
the living, so long as he feared her, he would do as she said. Ishanya waited
and watched the flow of time. The moment arrived so she again spoke to her
servant.

“So be it then, return to your corpse and serve me once
more. I warn you slave…Fail me again and everything you cherish will burn
before your eyes. Your father’s death will be a celebration compared to what I
will do to those you have left.”

“I will not fail you again.”

Seth felt something tug at his consciousness. It pulled
again. At first it was just a small thing, and then it yanked him like nothing
he had ever felt before.

*****

Posted on the wall, Valdadore’s soldiers stood looking down
upon a small congregation of troops that had approached from Sigrant’s camp. It
was obvious that they studied the giant gate and the city’s fortifications. An
archer loosed an arrow into the group of enemy soldiers below. Meeting its
mark, a soldier slumped in his saddle before leaning to the side and tumbling
to the ground.