Age of the Gods: The Complete, twelve novel, fantasy series (The Blood and Brotherhood Saga) (143 page)

Discarding idea after idea, he watched as Sara seemed to reach a plateau. She was gaining power at nearly the same rate she was expelling it, burning through the power to heal herself. Seth studied the situation over and again and only came to two real discoveries. First, he could not simply kill those fighting Sara with lightning as he had done others, they moved too fast for him to target accurately, and he was unsure if such strong creatures would be affected the same. Secondly, there was a small measure of time, perhaps a couple of minutes between when Sara killed a foe and the others regained all the power from the reverted humans. There was a window of opportunity.

Then Seth had his answer. It was a risk, but would work. He knew it.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized into the night, then began to gather his power and focus it. Then with a rumble that shook him, the world was ripped out from beneath him with an earth shattering explosion.

* * * * *

Ishanya stared at the tapestry of time splayed out before her. The battle of Valdadore had changed. It had changed immensely, but even so she could see that at least her puppet survived. Looking further she saw the possibilities of the future she desired, and noticed that some alterations had occurred there as well, but all appeared to be intact nonetheless.

It seemed other players in this grand game were beginning to take notice of her schemes, but already her plans were in play and taking effect in the world. Soon, she would hold claim to vast reserves of power and be able to confront them. Soon her puppet would claim for her the lives she needed to fulfill her own destiny. Soon she would destroy her brethren, or banish them as they had done to her. Soon she would rule the heavens of Thurr and lay claim to it all.

Could she smile, Ishanya would have done so, and reveled in the victory she felt was owed to her. But without physical form, she could not and so did not smile, though she did take pleasure in knowing that the end she sought was drawing nearer. Turning her attentions to other affairs, she watched as other portions of the tapestry designed of time, fate, and destiny wove themselves together, and again was pleased. The threads of her other servants were coming along nicely as well. It would take time for their roles to be seen, as she was just now able to use her power to create more champions to do her bidding.

With the spread of her followers on Thurr, it was time she defended her following with champions, and blessed them with powers unrivaled upon the mortal plane. Soon, very soon, her mortal followers would lead the charge that would end the other gods for all time. All she had to do was wait, and gently guide the collisions that wove the tapestry together.

* * * * *

Borrik stood near his master and heard his nearly whispered words seeking forgiveness, when everything seemed to change at once. Upon the wall, under constant random barrage of magical fireballs and the like, Valdadore’s troops hid behind the ramparts simply waiting for the enemy to come, though for several hours they had not. Borrik had taken several opportunities to rise and peek over the side, but all that could be seen below was a dense fog that blanketed everything. From below he could smell the enemy and blood, and he could even hear the king’s sword clanging off metal as he chuckled in his menacing way.

One man on the battlefield, the rest lying in hiding hoping for the end to come. Valdadore did not have much going for it at present. Twice now something had gone awry, and screams filled the fields surrounding the city and the scent of blood drifted heavily upon the air, but it did not last long either time. It was not until a few minutes after the second occasion that Borrik felt the battle was over.

With a loud blast the wall shook, dust and stone fragments exploding up and outwards in all directions. Hundreds atop the wall were injured from the sharp shards of stone and then the shockwave blasted them all from their feet. Yanked from their feet they fell, but found no bottom beneath them.

Below Borrik and his master the wall gave way, destroyed by some unknown means from below. Buckling in several places, large portions of the immense thirty story wall began to lean and crumble beneath the tumbling defenders.

Screams began but choked out on the thick clouds of dust in the air, and before the stone wall even settled in the rubble of its own ruins, Sigrant’s vampires were upon them. Borrik leapt to his feet, pulling a large shard of stone from his thigh that had penetrated his armor. Touching his bracer, he said the words that unleashed his blessing and with a boom he exploded in size to meet those foes nearest him. Seth hovered a few paces away, his expression blank and eyes unfocused as his great leathery wings flapped to keep him aloft. Borrik’s master appeared as if he had not even noticed that the wall of the city had collapsed beneath him.

Vampires by the thousands spilled into the void that was filled only by a handful of injured defenders, seeking an entry to the buffet that was Valdadore. Borrik knew the battle to be over. Valdadore was lost. But he still had duty to his master.

Leaping nearer to Seth, he slowed his dissent with his wings and began launching fireballs at those nearest to him, clearing a path before him and his master above.

Thousands of Vampires simply rushed around him, flooding in the city beyond and there was little Borrik could do except watch them go. The void in the ruined wall was too large and the defenders who remained up top had lost their nearest point of dissention with the destruction of the wall.

He felt helpless, trying to plan for the worst. As usual, it seemed his master had other plans.

* * * * *

Seth felt the wall crumble beneath him, and felt as the stone shards lanced through his body. Spreading his torn wings, he remained focused as they healed and the wall fell away beneath him. There was little he could do now for those upon the wall. No emotions. Keeping his mind in the fight, Seth reached out the miles to Sigrant’s camp and did the unthinkable.

Unleashing a torrent of lightning he destroyed, everything in Sara’s vicinity. Sara included. Again and again he blasted all those with bloated auras with wicked unholy lightning that lit the sky in strobes of green and yellow. He had no choice. He could not differentiate them from one another, as fast as they moved. He could not train his focus on them because of their speed, but he could lay waste to the entire area and he did so over and over again, his power fleeing from him with the exertion. All he could do was watch the auras of the woman he loved and her attackers, and hope that he was right…

And he was.

As the blasts of lighting destroyed their bodies again and again, Sara’s attackers’ powers waned, but not Sara’s, she had a constant influx from her underlings within the city, but time was growing short. Seth relented, stretching the time between his attacks, and watched with his unique vision, hoping she would forgive him.

Just when Sara thought things could get no worse, she realized that by killing the vampire female she had inadvertently allowed the others to grow stronger and faster. She knew, though, that such leaps in power took adjustment and through all the scratching, clawing, kicking, and biting she used an opponent’s miscalculation to her own advantage.

The vampire she had thrown by her scalp had returned to the fray, running headlong into the fight, though with her added speed she miscalculated her leap towards Sara. Knocking the nearest two of her opponents aside, Sara thrust her hand out and caught the woman in midair, new hair and all, her hand penetrating fully though the other woman. In her hand she held the mangled heart of the woman and, pulling her hand free from both the back and then the front of the woman’s ribcage, she showed it to her before making a fist and turning it to bloody ooze. Another fell.

Sara knew that this time they would grow even faster and hoped to again be able to use it to her advantage, but they were relentless. They tore at her, ripping her flesh and joints, pulling limbs from her body, and crushing and breaking bones. If only she had a few seconds reprieve to gather her bearings and launch a solid attack of her own. Then her prayers were answered by an explosion followed by a nightmare.

Wicked lightning began to crackle down from the sky, seeking those below with devastating effect. Instantaneously bodies were charred through and through to the bone, limbs blasting off where they made contact to the ground, and Sara was no exception.

Again and again her body was seared from the inside out, her organs cooking, and flesh burning away in an instant as it healed back just as quickly. Again and again she healed nearly completely before the next blast. Her limbs became stumps in seconds, the blasts exploding them like fatty meat upon a fire. She regenerated over and over only to endure the torture, screaming as her lungs healed only to be silenced again as they burnt. Blackness claimed her over and over, though only for fractions of seconds before she was restored to feel the anguish again.

Then, for only a second, the lightning ceased and Sara’s wounds began to heal quickly as her eyes focused, the puss clearing from them in an instant. Before her an enemy laid, a charred carcass screaming in silence as her lungs reformed in her chest cavity. Just as the woman’s flesh began to turn pink and grow once more, Sara plunged her still re-growing hand in and tore free her heart. The enemy’s healing ceased, but the lightning returned.

Again Sara was struck down, destroyed, but again she healed enough to discern her surroundings and felled two more opponents before she was again punished by the unholy power raining down from the sky.

The lightning relented again and this time Sara was on her feet before they were even restored. Pouncing from one ruined vampire to another, she tore at them with the bare bones of her fingers, ripping free the charred remains of their hearts and shredding them as she leapt to the next victim. Only seconds had passed, but Sara managed to destroy all her remaining foes before trying her best to prepare for the lightning once more. But it never came again…

Instead she heard a familiar voice.

* * * * *

Robert Sigrant was no fool. At the first sign that he might get caught up in the brawl between the demon princess and his many lovers, he was wise to give himself a little more distance. He felt the loss of his first two lovers, but also felt the power that followed. The princess was winning the battle but losing the war. With each opponent she felled, he became stronger through the re-transformation of his wives’ progeny.

Though he was loath to lose his brides, he preferred it over losing his life. So long as she continued killing his harem and being injured, he imagined they would again at least be equals by the time she finished. If even she survived all of his wives, for they grew stronger too.

Sigrant’s distance saved him when the lightning came, and even at this distance he could see the source of the unholy storm. With a blast the lightning had started, and across the miles the demon prince flapped his wings in defiance as Sigrant’s hopes of killing the princess were dashed.

Again and again the lighting struck, dozens of times within seconds. Again and again his brides and the princess were reduced to charred lumps of smoking coal. But then the lightning slowed. From the ashes the dark princess arose and sought out her enemies. She was the more powerful, and still growing. She healed faster and in doing so she began to dispatch Sigrant’s harem between the blasts. It was sickening, watching her rise, seemingly from the dead, to kill those who could not defend against her. Sigrant enjoyed it immensely. She was a beauty to be admired.

He watched as all of his wives were murdered and the lightning ceased. He watched still as Sara rose to her feet, her nude body preserved at the pinnacle of her life. Her raven hair stood in dark contrast to her milky flesh and her round, firm breasts bounced with her movement. She was perfection. Just like himself. She was powerful beyond measure. She knew pleasure as only they could. She could drink it in with him, and together they would be unstoppable.

He watched her turn, brushing the hair from her face, and ash from her hands and knees. He admired her body, and wanted to taste it in every way possible. But she wanted to kill him.

Sigrant faced a dilemma. Around him, the remaining members of his army, the wave he had been reserving to end the battle, walked around confused, uncertain what to do. Weak once more, they had become human again. Sara would soon spy him and she wanted him dead. And she
could
kill him. She was easily more powerful than he.

Calculating as he was, Sigrant thought of only one thing he could do to turn things around.

“Princess Sara,” he began, “I wonder if you have thought much about your situation.”

Watching her turn faster than even he could imagine, her eyes locked on him and she bared her teeth with a hiss.

“Hear my words, princess, then we can fight if you wish.”

She approached him slowly. Stalking him as a cat might stalk its prey.

“You and I are the same. Do you not find your new life lonely? However could anyone love you again now that you are more powerful than they are? Does your prince love you? After all, he just tried to kill you with lightning! Or is he just using you to further his own power?” Sigrant let the words sink in, hoping to see some change in her demeanor.

“You have left the race of humans behind, princess. Together you and I could rule the world. Think of it. It would be perfection. We could spend eternity together, you and I, and I would cherish you like never before. I would love you, and we could experience pleasures of the likes we have never before imagined. We could save the world from war and disease. There would be no more death. Together we could build a paradise unrivaled.”
That was it… Her features changed. Her hatred lessened.

“Sara. You could be my queen and we could save humanity and all other races from the pains of life. All wars would cease, and the entire world could live in peace.” She froze in her steps, her expression changing
. Confusion? Was that what her eyes held?

Cautiously he reached out his hands and took a step towards her. “Come, Princess Sara. Take my hand. Be my bride. Let us save the world together.”

* * * * *

Seth watched and strained and focused his power over the vast distance. He tried to remain patient. He watched the auras of Sara’s attackers began to wither away, their power being drained by the constant need to heal. Sara’s shrank too, but with constant power being fed to her from within the city she failed at a slower rate. He relented his magical barrage and watched as an aura dissipated.

Unleashing another round, he waited again and watched. Two more fell. Again he attacked and again he abated. Sara must have taken the cue. Within seconds the remaining auras were destroyed. The only remaining vampires in Sigrant’s camp were himself and Sara, and it was obvious that Sara had the upper hand.

Refocusing his attention, he was surprised to find Borrik just ahead and below him, though now no fighting was going on. Thousands of Sigrant’s troops had swarmed into the city but now they all milled around, unsure what had befallen them. The battle had changed. Valdadore was still badly outnumbered, but at least they were facing humans.

It took only moments for the fighting to begin anew, Sigrant’s captains and commanders yelling out to create battle formations and defenders spilling down from the walls to fight in the streets of the city.

Seth looked around and caught eyes with Borrik, who grinned menacingly. Garret’s forces would have to handle the interior of the city, Seth needed to stop the flow of Sigrant’s army and he had just the plan to accomplish it.

Folding his wings he settled to the ground and, bending, he traced a symbol upon the rubble beneath him. Seeking out the symbol near the healers that he had created earlier, he siphoned the power from it, rendering it obsolete. Then reaching out with his mind, he located all of the medallions he had created in preparation for this battle. Grasping them with his power, he sent the command out on tendrils to all of them.
Seth, save me.
That was all it took.

Near a thousand of his rat troops, and a half-dozen of his wolven commanders appeared with the blink of an eye, a confused and entangled mass of bodies.

Heads looked this way and that, all of them trying to comprehend what had happened to them. Even Sigrant’s troops froze, uncertain what to do now that they were mixed with the inhuman forces.

“Hold this line!” Borrik commanded, and as if someone had just animated their bodies both sides began to fight once more.

Seth watched, ashamed, as Sigrant’s nearest forces were dispatched by his men. The butchery was short, but facing superior soldiers, Sigrant’s forces outside the castle fell back a short distance and began to regroup. Then, without warning, the war horns sounded.

* * * * *

Garret stood upon his mound of the dead, and hacked and slashed those opponents ignorant enough to believe that they could feed upon him. Near a thousand bodies lay wasted around him and beneath his feet.

He had fought the weaker creatures with no issues, and even when the second wave arrived they failed to bring him down though they had tried several times. It was not until the earth shook and a blast of stone and dust clanged off of his metallic skin, that the king of Valdadore realized that there was an issue that could require his attention.

Turning to stalk down his mound of gore, he cleaved a path through the vampires who now gathered to climb through the rubble-filled opening in the city’s defenses. Picking up speed as he charged towards the opening, smashing those vampires to slow to flee him, he watched as every one of them froze in their tracks and began looking around confused as if coming out from under some spell. It was apparent almost immediately that they had changed.

Gone was their agility, strength, and speed. Returned were the human enemies Garret could hope to destroy. All he needed to do was keep them out of his city. Twenty more yards and the king of Valdadore slid to a stop, smashing the retreating forms of Sigrant’s soldiers beneath him, and cleaving a few more for sport.

Within the chasm created by the wall’s collapse stood a new wall of fur and fangs. Seth’s unnatural soldiers had taken up the call to hold the intruders at bay.
But why stop there when the enemy was on the run?

Looking first to his brother, then to the mass of ugly little troops surrounding him, Garret pointed out to the fields surrounding Valdadore and shouted,

“Attack!”

From atop the wall, arrows and a handful of fireballs lanced out into the retreating forms of Sigrant’s force. Even Seth’s rat men and women took to the chase, pouring out of the gap in the wall like the rodents they were created from. Garret turned to lead the charge when the air was split by the sound of many, many war horns. The dwarves had arrived. Grinning, Garret knew that Valdadore would survive. It was time to put an end to Sigrant’s army.

* * * * *

Zorbin led the charge across the plains. They had witnessed the lightning show and could now see the silhouette of the city against the backdrop of stars in the daytime sky. Rushing headlong as fast as their mounts would carry them, the contingent of Dwarven warriors clung to their mounts and raced across the plains in leaps and bounds. At their current pace they could reach the city in a quarter of an hour, though it appeared the fighting was primarily on the opposite side of the city, judging by what they saw in the flashes of lightning.

Less than half an hour, and they could lend the Valdadorians aid.

A quarter of an hour passed under the thunderous drumming of the wolven paws. Without a war counselor at his disposal, Zorbin was in charge, and as such he thought about how to best approach the city. From opposite the conflict, they could round the city to either the north or the south, but if the enemy was concentrated on the western side, they could potentially flank them from both directions.

Decided, Zorbin shouted his orders to the troops nearest him and the word spread. Less than five minutes later, with the city looming larger and larger, the Dwarven warriors broke into two units and turning away from one another moved to approach the battlefield from both sides. Looking back over his shoulder Zorbin spied Linaya, trailing nearly a mile behind, her mount struggling to keep pace with the more agile wolves. From here she had a clear path to the eastern gate of the city. She no longer had need of his protection.