Age of the Gods: The Complete, twelve novel, fantasy series (The Blood and Brotherhood Saga) (167 page)

A roar exploded from both opposing sides as the horde surged from all sides to put an end to the weakened wizard, and the human’s allies rushed in to protect him. And through those that parted around him to reach the human foe, Gnak watched as the female grasped her neck, blood pouring from it, as she and the wizard collapsed back to the ground once more.

Grinning from the toothy hole in his face, Gnak thought victory inevitable until he was again torn from his feet and cast backwards, bright light enveloping him as he tumbled end over agonizing end within his armor, his flesh tearing and cracking more with every unwanted movement. Everything went black.

CHAPTER TEN

Fighting the urge to pass out as his head struck the ground, Gnak waited for his vision to return. Rolling to his stomach, his ears ringing with amazing volume, Gnak lifted his head to find that all who had rushed ahead of him towards the fallen wizard were gone. Both friend and enemy of the human spell-caster had been reduced to ash. Even now, discarded pieces of armor spun to a stop amidst the soft powder that coated everything. The human was gone, and the female with him.

Rising, oh so painfully, Gnak turned to look beyond at the tattered forces of both sides. Much of the horde had been decimated. Some were already retreating. None knew if the humans had another such wizard, and none dared linger to find out. Though it was against Orc tradition to retreat, he thought it a wise idea.

Forcing himself up once more, he heard as the remaining beasts led by the vanished wizard howled in anguish as they began to snarl and bark viciously. It was time to leave.

Moving as fast as his destroyed body would allow, Gnak turned and moved away from the blight that was the only proof the wizard had existed, and favoring his left leg he half jogged, half limped towards the southern rise of the valley. Behind him he could hear the fur-covered half men closing the distance.

Reaching out his hands, he unleashed the orbs of many fallen within him into corpses in various states of dismemberment as he passed. Looking over his shoulder as he attempted to run, he witnessed as the dead began shudder and convulse before they started to rise and shamble about, picking up the fight where they had left off in life. Just as he hoped, the wizard’s beasts set upon his re-risen allies, buying him time to escape.

For what seemed like an eternity, Gnak ran with members of the army he had belonged to surging all around him. On and on he went, being outpaced by even the smallest of goblins. It was growing late in the day when he reached the mouth to the mountain pass, and so crowded was that bottleneck point, that Gnak had not the energy to stand about waiting to gain entry.

Climbing to the rocky face beside the split in the giant mountain, Gnak pressed his back against the cool stone and letting his legs fold beneath him he slid down its hard surface to rest on the ground. Panting heavily from the exertion of the run, he reached up and pulled the helm from his head as thick chunks of flesh and one whole ear tore away with it. Clenching his jaw against the pain, he took deep breaths between his teeth and dropped the helm into his lap, before letting what was left of his head fall back against the cool stone with something between a thud and a splat.

Closing his one good eye, if you could truly call it closed with his destroyed eyelid, he concentrated on slowing his breathing and the racing of his heart.

It must have worked, for before he knew it he was dreaming of building his massive fortress once again.

* * * * *

Standing atop the temple built for Ishanya, Gnak strode across its dark surface looking out over his city. Before him stood a magnificent sight without rival. Built into the side of the mountain’s face was a fortress unlike any other. From the ground below it resembled a giant stone skull carved into the side of the mountain with a giant crown jutting off the top of its head. The thick impenetrable walls creating much of the facade. The crown was comprised of the many towering building and roads that snaked up the side of the mountain, one of which he inhabited now.

Crossing the top of the temple, he passed his gloved hand over the dais and continued on towards the front of the platform. Looking down the hundreds of stairs, he watched as the inhabitants of the city prepared to celebrate the completion of his greatest creation. Everywhere meat was being cooked, and goblins danced and played instruments as trolls and Orcs tried their luck at games of chance. The city was perfection. Of course there were incidents. There would always be those who did not conform, but Gnak had them dealt with permanently. After all… for many to live, some would have to be sacrificed. Besides, a little bloodshed now and then kept his people’s violent side satiated.

Climbing down the seemingly endless stairs, Gnak ducked into a small door hidden upon the shadowed side of the temple and traversing the dark corridor, he entered one of his favorite rooms in the whole city. Here great columns supported the weight of the temple above, and those who had been sacrificed, and thrown through the great hole in the ceiling above, came to a sudden rest here as they shattered upon the floor after their throats had been slit before the masses.

Here, among the dead, he could speak to those he wished. Those he carried with him. Reaching within he pulled forth a small ball of light and cast it into one of the broken bodies. The room then began to swirl and when it relented he was in a new room. This one was neither dark nor damp, but instead was lavishly decorated with iron and bones.

A great chair formed of the bones of giants encompassed the center of the room, though Gnak walked past it to look out the window. From here he could see even beyond the walls of the city to the great winding road that climbed up to the mouth of the skull. Upon the road an army marched up to his gates, but Gnak was not afraid. He would kill them all and then make them dance for his own entertainment.

Turning, he strode to the opposite corner of the room where stood a great mirror of polished silver. Adjusting his breastplate, he looked into its depths and admired the goblin king looking back at him.

* * * * *

Gnak imagined it was sometime that night, or perhaps the next, when he felt the kick to his leg.

“Methinks he dead,” said a familiar voice.

“Is no dead. Is sleep,” another familiar voice replied.

“He ugly Orcsie. Looks his hands. And no ear too!” the first voice said.

“Is battle scar. Is proud.”

“So says Orcsie. Lets us takes him.”

Feeling himself hefted aloft, Gnak reached up and wiped the dust from his eye with one boney finger.

“You right. He’s not dead,” the Goblin king smirked to Bota.

“Bota says you this. Now we take. Go.”

Without further warning, Bota dropped him unceremoniously into a cart as the goblin king hopped in beside him. Gnak felt as Bota began dragging the cart forward at a quickening pace through the darkness. Faster and faster his second-in-command pulled the cart as he was jostled this way and that uncomfortably. Though even so, he managed to roll to one side and seek out the goblin king to see what their plan was.

“Where take Gnak?”

“To camp, Orcsie. Chief gone two night. We must hurry or we’ll run out of time.”

“Why hurry?” Gnak asked.

“Gathos cannots remains without a leader for long. So fars your captains haves kept everything movings as it should, but the big chief has left, many, many clans with no chief. Now is time for Orcsie to strike!”

Gnak listened through his pain, realizing that if what the goblin said was true, there might never be a better time than the present to unite the clans. But how could he fight? His body was destroyed. There was no telling if he would even recover. If infection set in, he would be a goner for sure. He needed to reason it out.

“Gnak no can fight. Look,” Gnak said, raising his all but missing fingers for the goblin to see.

“Gnak can fight,” the goblin replied.

“How? All body broken. Take long heal. Maybe no heal.”

“Chief nots be fighting with swords. Chief be fighting with magic!” the goblin king explained.

It was true. He didn’t
have
to fight with his hands. It was much easier to simply touch them and… but he didn’t
have
to touch them either! He had used his power several times on the field of battle without actually touching anything. Of course… all of
those
subjects had been dead. Could he simply summon the will from a living creature? Was it possible? If it was, then he could do exactly as the goblin king suggested. He could challenge any foe from a distance and simply take their will. Once frozen in place, he could do as he pleased with them. The goblin was right. Now, while all was in confusion, was the time to strike.

Rising to a sitting position, he did his best to ignore the pain. He needed to know everything.

“You say Gnak gone two day?” he asked.

“Yes, we haves a camp set a few miles south of the pass.”

“How many clan left?”

“Almost a thousand Orcs, you were ables to saves most. We lost more. There are three thousand goblins left.”

“Tell me other clans,” Gnak said, then sat back against the side of the cart to listen.

“Many clans near to Gathos. Many camps. Many in struggle for power. Some leave soon. Must hurry.”

On and on the goblin king chattered about the other clans, speaking of their sizes and telling which ones already had new chiefs. Gnak tried to listen as best as he was able, but even so it seemed like forever before the goblin told him the most surprising news of all.

“Big chief injured bad bad. Some says he die soon. Me hears there aints many who will fight to take his place. Maybe none.”

“What you plan?” Gnak asked.

“Take Gnak. Fix this,” he said, pointing to both his hands and face. “Then Gnak unite the clans. No big chief, no problem.”

It sounded easy enough, but it would only work
if
he could remove the will from a living host at a distance as had done with the dead just days ago.

“Gnak not know if work. Gnak no try… live thing,” he said, trying to convey his concern.

“Then Orcsie should try before we get back,” the goblin king said with a twitch of his head.

Taking his meaning, Gnak turned in the cart. Ahead of him Bota ran as fast as his feet would carry them, hauling the cart behind him like a beast of burden. Raising his skeletal hand, Gnak summoned the orb of Bota’s will to himself and watched as things unfolded.

Freezing mid-stride, the cart smashed into Bota from behind, throwing him forward to land on his face. Such was its momentum that the cart continued on, rolling over and crushing Bota beneath its wheels before bouncing forward, its handles catching upon a rise in the stone floor of the pass. With such force the cart moved, that it flipped end over end, tossing both Gnak and the goblin king from its confines, sending both sprawling across the floor of the pass. Though both hit the stone floor hard, neither was injured beyond that of their pride, and rising, they both looked to Bota and the cart.

“Now we know,” the goblin king smirked.

“Bota, good Orc,” Gnak replied.

“Then bring him back,” the goblin king suggested.

“No. Is not same. Is never same. Gnak keep safe. Take with.”

For the remainder of the night Gnak walked with the goblin king, passing out of the mountains and into the soil and sand beyond. He fought hour after hour to stay upright, ignoring his pain, even as each movement felt like his last. It was early morning when they approached the first of the camps they would find before reaching their own. Without so much as a pause to consider it, Gnak and his goblin companion strode into the camp, demanding that their chief present himself and kneel before Gnak.

From out of a tent a massive Orc came. Upon his shoulders he wore the skulls of bears and around his neck was a collection of human ears. The chief of this clan had fared well at the battle and appeared to have returned unscathed. Gnak eyed his opponent through his visor with his one good eye. It was good he would not have to fight the man.

“Come. Kneel here. Say clan, Gnak new chief. If no. You die here,” Gnak ordered, and pointed at the ground at his feet.

The chief roared in reply and charged, drawing a massive blade from his back as he came. Pumping as hard as he could, the rampaging Orc threw up sand in plumes behind him with each stride, but Gnak did not so much as flinch. Instead, he judged the charging Orc’s speed and size like he would any charging animal and waited for the exact second he needed. When it arrived, he raised the remains of one hand and summoned the chief’s will. Face down, the chief slid through the sand to his feet.

Stepping atop the fallen chief, Gnak looked out among those who had gathered to witness the impromptu challenge.

“Come. Now you Gathos. Gathos good clan. Strong clan. You come.”

It took three hours for that first clan to break camp and gather up all they owned to follow Gnak. His small green companion collected one of the chief’s bear skulls as a souvenir, though what he intended to do with it, Gnak did not ask. After their chief, none had bothered to challenge him and he was thankful for it. The whole of his body sent mind-numbing pain to his brain with every step. He doubted he could fight if he wanted to. Using fear of the unknown was better. Just scare them into doing what he wanted and leave it at that. Later, when he was recovered, he could bash some heads if he needed to. For now, however, he moved forward with his newly acquired clan behind him to the next camp they happened across. He was pleased to find it was his own.

Greeted by cheers as they arrived, the Gathos clan rushed out to meet them, goblins and all. Though they met his return with pride and celebration, the looks in their faces upon seeing his condition spoke of things other than cheerful reunions. Without pause a pair of his captains showed him to the shaman’s tent, and once there he ducked painfully inside to find the shaman smoking leaves from a pipe.