Age of the Gods: The Complete, twelve novel, fantasy series (The Blood and Brotherhood Saga) (215 page)

“I don’t suppose they’ll be throwing us a feast.”

“Poor hospitality for sure. Hopefully what they lack in social graces they make up for with an immense army and a means of bringing Seth’s plans, whatever they are, to fruition.”

“Seth’s plans…” Sara paused, pondering again what it was that her husband had in store. She wondered if he even knew yet what it was he was to do, or if he planned to wing it and see where the winds took him. “You think he’s found what he’s looking for?”

“Time will answer that.”

“You think I should summon him?”

“No. Wait. I want to make sure it isn’t an ambush. No need to put him in harm’s way again.”

“If it’s an ambush, we won’t be able to summon him.”

“True. Let’s wait and see what the orc says when he returns.”

* * * * *

Seth reached out again and again with his power. He could feel everything, and nothing. It was there, the world of Thurr, but like a shadow of what he was used to. It tugged at him, hinting at what the world really was, but it was insubstantial. He was insubstantial. Thurr wasn’t all he could feel, either. Here there was power. The gods, the engine that drove Thurr, he could feel them. He could taste them. They pervaded him with their vast power. Yet, he could not reach out to them, could not grasp them. They were here, yet he was of little consequence to any of them. He lacked the power to even gain their attention, so he turned his attention elsewhere.

Here, in this strange new dimension, he was everywhere and nowhere at once. He sought out the aura of his brother and in an instant he could see it, feel it, brush against it. There too was the aura of his altered female companion, the untrue Ashton, the legions of his wolf men, birthing new troops by the second. He could feel it all, but not really. Turning his attention aside, he felt as they were swept away. It was as if he moved through this realm of power, against his own accord.

The world and all life swirled around him. Everything from fleas to great beasts in the depths of the ocean were at his fingertips. Lands he had never traveled, peoples he had never fathomed, creatures long thought extinct. They were all there. Pondering just a second, he reached out to touch them all at once, stretching himself to his limits, feeling the drag of this realm pulling at him, sweeping through him, tugging… He felt it, and then he saw it for what it was. Time.

He could see time. He could feel it. Refocusing his senses, he sought to study this new phenomenon, but even as he did it began to unravel and weave anew around him. Time was changing… Or was he changing time? Turning his attention to the current he looked upstream, not understanding all the threads that joined to create time. Here at the present they were all tightly wound, but there, in the distance, pouring from the engine that drove Thurr and all the lives upon it, the threads spun out wildly in multitudes of hues, coming together, seemingly at random, to intertwine into yarns that then wove together to create something akin to fabric. It was all there. Everything was there. He was looking at the future and witnessing as events unfolded and decisions were made and the flow of time was altered one tiny thread at a time. He noted threads that ended abruptly, and threads that veered off a singular course onto one completely different. Far, far ahead, where the threads themselves were not formed, a dark coagulation of shadow spun into a thread that grew ever thicker, seemingly entwined everywhere and nowhere. It took only seconds to trace the malignant thread back to Thurr, to the life that spun it.

There, in a dark musty chamber a solitary figure sat against the stone wall of a dank room deep in the bowels of Drakenhurst castle. It was his own physical body that seemed to be tangling time, but how?

Then it struck him.

It wasn’t just time.

He was witnessing the intersection of time and fate. The threads were fate and the flow was time. Fate was not yet woven into place and could be changed, unraveled. Nothing was decided.

Locating his own thread anew he traced it back to where fate was first emitted from the engine of power that drove Thurr. All the gods were there. Their fates were deeply entwined in all the lives of everything, but not his. His thread was an abomination, skipping stitches and knotting altogether as he blundered through the currents of time. He worked outside the system. He was a creature born of destruction. The thread cutter. The unknotted. He could change his fate, seemingly at will, and alter the fate of anything he chose.

Seth finally could see the answer. It was all around him, woven into time with a destiny that was as yet undecided. So long as any lives on Thurr remained, time and fate would continue on forever. Some threads could be removed, no matter how interwoven and strong they were, the fabric as a whole could survive the loss of many threads. All lives were precious, but time, fate, and Thurr made no distinction. Only the gods.

Seth left the realm of power, the realm he now knew was the heavens, the realm of the gods. He had been given the answer he sought. The time was upon him. He needed to act before the gods noticed the change in the patterns of his fate.

Chapter Fifteen

The courtyards were draped in silks and flowers as Garret walked under the archway with his new bride on his arm. All around him people ooh’d and ahh’d at the sight of him and his bride. Dressed in their absolute finest, Garret imagined they were quite a sight in matching crimson fabric, draped in chains of gold and adorned with the finest gems the crown could afford. It was the grandest day in Garret’s life and he wanted all the city to remember it.

Approaching the table situated for himself and those of his closest friends and advisors, the king of Valdadore nodded to Ashton and Kanth, the only two friends he could muster. He noted that Anna’s end of the table was only accompanied by one person at present; her servant and confidant, Jasmine. He’d not yet gotten to know the girl, but if Anna liked her, that was enough.

Looking across at the nearest tables, he saw his new knights, all in matching jerkins and gowns of royal blue. Beyond that were the mages and clerics and then the high-borns and the wealthy. There were hundreds of tables beyond, and looking across the expanse of the castle complex cast in evening hues, he could already see the line of servants bringing the thousands of dishes and drinks the cooks and chefs had been preparing for days. Even in the city streets, carts were set up giving away bread, fruit, and ale. Today, all would celebrate.

It took only seconds for the scents of food to fill Garret’s nostrils and curious, and he waited before selecting any food for himself. Instead, he turned his attention to Kanth, who sat just two seats away. There was still more than an hour of daylight, but his changing was not what roused Garret’s curiosities. He wondered, quietly, if Kanth had ever eaten off a plate. If he had ever eaten anything cooked. As far as Garret knew, all Kanth had ever tasted was raw beef, duck, and rabbit. He wondered if the commander of his Lycan forces would turn up his nose at the food, devour it without restraint, or surprise him and eat like every other gentleman seated at the rows and rows of tables.

As the food was placed, Garret watched Kanth sniff the air, twisting this way and that to view all the goods set out before them. As Ashton, Anna, and Jasmine began to collect their favorite foods from those provided, the Lycan watched cautiously as he too was watched. Garret nearly laughed at the prospect, but caught himself as Kanth reached out with a knife from the table and stabbed a thick sausage from a nearby tray. Even from where the king was seated, the spices of the sausage could be smelled. Surely Kanth had never had anything so peppered and flavorful as the sausage.

Garret continued to watch even after Anna nudged him. Again Kanth looked around before lifting his fork and carefully brought blade to meat. Carving off a chunk, the newly formed man stuffed it in his mouth and began to chew. His eyes grew wider. He sawed off another bite and stuffed it in with the first, chewing vigorously as his eyes grew wider still. Grinning, very much like the canine whence he came, Kanth snatched up a silver mug of Valdadore’s finest wine from the table and tilting his head back took it down in a single gulp.

Had Kanth any knowledge of wine and ale? Had he ever been drunk?

Garret had a feeling the night would be an interesting one.

As dark neared and the feast began to grow more restless, Garret reflected on the day and deemed it a success. Feeling a touch on his shoulder he turned as his Lycan commander stepped back, bowing his head in respect.

“If you’ve no further need of me, my king, I’d like to check on patrols.”

Nodding his approval, Garret allowed the man to excuse himself. The young king was not naïve. He knew the creature wanted to hide himself while making the painful change from human to Lycan, but did not protest. Kanth deserved some measure of privacy. He was a valuable ally and asset. Soon, he would lead the Lycans to war.

Wiping his mouth and chin, Garret pushed back from the table and rose as all those thousands gathered rose with him. Raising his hand for silence, he twisted his head as a commotion broke out somewhere near the southern gate into the castle complex. It was growing too dark for him to see. Delaying his appreciative message to the gathered crowd, he watched as a pair of Lycan runners raced towards him. When finally they reached him, the larger of the hulking beasts bent down upon one knee, raising his eyes to meet Garret’s.

“King, goblins come.”

“Here?” Garret asked, wishing the creature knew more words.”

“Goblins, yes. Come meet king.”

That was enough for Garret to put it together. Obviously this was some sort of response to his delegates who had ventured south.

“Captain Heiss and the Lycans who traveled with him?” Garret asked, hoping the Lycan before him understood his question.

“Captain, yes. Lycans no. Goblins.”

“Very well, send Captain Heiss to the castle proper. I’ll meet him in the war room.”

“Orders given, King,” the Lycan said, bowing his head once more before rising and turning with his companion to stalk away, their heads bobbing in unison.

Turning back to the gathered crowd, Garret watched as the muffled conversations came to an abrupt end. All eyes turned towards him. All waited in anticipation.

“Good people of Valdadore. It seems my diplomatic duties will not give me rest even on the day of my wedding. I bid you all a wonderful evening of celebration. Thank each and every one of you for helping to make this day perfect for Queen Anna and myself. With any luck, after diplomatic talks are done, I’ll still have time to indulge in the other festivities enjoyed by newlyweds.” Garret took Anna’s arm as she stood, both of them bowing to the cacophony of laughter at his jest. But in reality, he was not joking. He didn’t know what he wanted more, the goblin, troll, and orc hordes to decimate the demon in his brother’s flesh, or to ravish the flesh of his new bride. Momentarily, he entertained the idea of doing both simultaneously, but blood and sex were not something he wanted to mingle.

Reaching the doors to the war room, Garret turned to face his petite, ginger-haired bride. “I’ll catch up in a few moments, love. Why don’t you wait for me in our bed chamber.”

“I’d rather take part in the meeting, if it is no different to you,” she smiled up at him.

It was an odd thing, her taking such interest in matters of war, but she had sworn, just today, to do all she was able to protect the people of Valdadore. What was there to lose by having her present? Would it be an insult to the goblins? Did their women get involved in war plans and battle? He’d killed hundreds of them, but honestly didn’t know.

Shoving the great wooden door opened he allowed Anna to enter before him, leaving the door ajar. From outside the castle he could hear the bustle of a great deal of armored feet on the stones, and knew the goblins and Captain Heiss had arrived. Settling himself into a great wooden chair, he beckoned Anna to take up one of the more comfortable, leather padded chairs beside him. Together they waited as the booted feet made their way into the castle walls, the sounds echoing a million times.

Within minutes Captain Heiss appeared. He looked little worse than when he had left. A bit thin and a bit distraught, perhaps, but all in all still healthy and fit for battle. Behind Heiss, in pairs, a contingent of goblins poured into the room. Coming only to the human’s abdomen, they almost appeared to be green children, but their leathery, streaked hides proved their vast difference from humans.

“Good evening, Captain Heiss.”

“Good evening, your Majesties. Let me congratulate you on your wedding.”

“Thank you,” Garret replied, one of his thick eyebrows rising. “What has become of your Lycan escort?”

“The orc king took them as a sign of good faith, and pledge his allegiance with a few terms.”

“I expected as much. How much does he want?” Garret ask, smirking. He had plenty of wealth with which to bribe the orcish king.

“He does not want gold, my king. His demands are of the flesh.”

Garret tasted the words. The phrasing alone seemed sinister. He’d not give up his morals for some twisted freak.”

“What does he want?”

“Your Majesty, the orc king requests half a million Lycans when the demon king is defeated.”

“That’s a lot of troops,” Garret pondered. At least it wasn’t anything sickening, like a thousand virgins to rape. He didn’t know if they had half a million Lycans yet, let alone if they would at the conclusion of the battle. But what did it matter? If the demon was dead, and its minions dead, not even this king of orcs would be a threat to Valdadore with so many Lycan troops. Who did this orc think he was to make such demands? Garret would agree to the terms, but he’d never make payment. Perhaps, when the battle was done, he’d simply kill this orc king as well, and place some new ruler as their king… one he selected. “Very well. I’ll give him half a million Lycans. Was that all?”

“No, my king. He had another demand.”

This was the sickening part, Garret could see it in the captain’s eyes.

“Spit it out.”

“He wants a girl. Old enough to care for herself, but not yet a woman.”

“For what purpose?”

“He didn’t say.”

It was a peculiar request. Orcs and goblins had been raiding the southlands for hundreds of years. Surely he could have snatched up a girl? What ungodly plans did he have for her? A sacrifice? Garret didn’t want to know. Not really. It was one girl, not thousands, not even a hundred. One. He could have the city guard select an orphan or a wit. By the gods, they might even be able to locate an orphaned wit. What good was a child with half a mind anyway? “Very well. I will agree to these terms. What numbers can he bring to the field?”

“From what I saw, and what I’ve gathered from these men,” Heiss gestured to the goblins, “he has more than three hundred thousand men. He’s united all the orc, goblin, and troll clans. He even has giants at his disposal.”

“Then we march tomorrow. With the orc king’s men, the Lycans, and what remains of Valdadore’s army, we’ll have a force of over a million troops. We’ll crush the demon, and destroy everything and everyone he has tainted. Put these men up in my knights’ barracks and send word to Ashton and Kanth at the Lycan breeding grounds. I want our entire force prepared by morning. We’ll leave enough men behind to keep order, and enough Lycan bitches behind to give me another hundred thousand troops by the time we return.”

* * * * *

Anna placed her palm on the center of Garret’s bare chest and shoved him backwards into the bed. Untying the silken strings at her neck, she let the gossamer gown fall to the floor, exposing her body in its entirety. Garret had seen her naked hundreds of times already, but she’d never been a queen before. She’d never taken the lead with him. She’d never shown her strength or endurance. It was time to give him at least an inkling of what she was capable of.

Stepping up, onto the bed, she walked across the down-stuffed bed, swinging her hips and licking her lips. Below her, the king of Valdadore grinned like a child getting a treat. Stepping over his waist, to straddle his body, she spread her legs and noticed his eyes flicking down and then back up and over her body. Grinning, she looked down to find that he was already quite prepared for her.

Lowering herself onto his body, she leaned forward and grasped his wrists. He was a big man, strong, with endurance for days. The knights of Gorandor had forged him that way. But without invoking his blessing, he was just a man.

Pinning his wrists to the bed, Anna slid her hips back. Feeling the length of him penetrating her, she winced ever so slightly as he tore her yet again. She rocked forward and the burning went away, already healed. Back again, harder, and again she tore. She couldn’t even imagine having done this as a mere mortal. The pain would have been excruciating. Then again, she could have never imagined that in the span of a year she would climb from serving wench to queen, either. She began rocking her hips faster as Garret invited her with his mouth.

Releasing his wrist, Anna reached back and slapped him across the face, spinning his head to the side. She thrust her body down again, forcing him inside her as far as he was able. She laughed as he turned back to face her, confusion in his eyes.

It was going to be a fun night indeed.

* * * * *

Sara stood at the gate as a commotion picked up from somewhere behind it. Still the statuesque orcs stood posed, watching her and Borrik as if they might combust at any given second. Turning her attention beyond those nearest, she could see an orc racing down the street towards them. He was alone, and looked much like the orc who had raced away, but in all honesty they all kind of looked the same to Sara. She couldn’t be sure if this was the same orc or not.

As the orc neared she watched him gesture towards something behind and above the gate as a pair of grunts preceded the creating of chains against metal hoists. The portcullis began to raise slowly. It seemed they would be admitted. It almost felt too easy. It felt, very much, like a trap. Sara reached down to the pouch at her waist and fingered the tiny wooden figurine, whispering the command Seth had given her. Suddenly the air around her grew cooler, the hair on her neck standing up. Borrik noted the change as well and bent his knees in preparation of launching into the sky. But it was not fell magic from an orcish mage that befell them. With a small rush of air a dark shadow appeared, congealing into a solid form. Seth had heeded the call.