Age of the Gods: The Complete, twelve novel, fantasy series (The Blood and Brotherhood Saga) (55 page)

His robes drenched in sweat, his entire body shaking, Seth reached out one last time and grasping at the first wolf he found, he quickly separated the beast from its life, and then begrudgingly released it into the awaiting arm of the eighth veteran. Releasing the man's arm, it then disappeared, being pulled back through the side of the tent as had happened with them all. But then Seth saw that he must have made a mistake in his count as one arm remained thrust through the wall awaiting his "melding". Seth was sure he had completed the task. He must have accidentally poured a wolf's life into the same person twice leaving one yet unchanged. Seth’s body shook uncontrollably, his vision blurred at the edges. He did not feel up to performing the task yet again, but did not want to show weakness, let alone failure to the king who sat motionless beside him, watching his every move.

Extending again a tendril of his consciousness, Seth located a target, though it had begun to retreat. Seth grabbed at its life and yanked with his remaining mental strength. He felt relieved as the beast’s life force came lashing back into his body. Letting the joy overtake him for a few seconds to ease his suffering, Seth could not imagine how he had made the mistake, nor could he imagine what would happen to a person once their "soul" was two thirds wolf and only one third human. Feeling now that he would not pass out, Seth stretched out for the last time, and released the power within him into the awaiting arm of a veteran. Seth sat back against the log, clinging to consciousness, his vision very near failing. It was then that the snarling erupted from the tent, which instantly turned into a writhing mass of teeth, claws and fur.

One moment the beasts of men inside the tent sat in tranquility, each recovering from the pleasurable kiss of the transformation that had made them more than merely human. Then, as one man regained conscious control of his body, the urge took him and he leapt upon the nearest of his fellows to assure his dominance. One snarl and growl turned into a crescendo of ferocity as the tent nearly exploded with writhing bodies biting and clawing at one another. Blood and tufts of fur were ripped asunder as the king realized his mistake. Seth barely held on to consciousness as he witnessed the melee that ensued. The creatures leapt at one another, snarling and slashing with their teeth, biting and clawing at each other’s throats, legs, bellies. Any place they could land purchase was fair game and as the first of the creatures was finally subdued, the victor from that battle leapt upon another opponent.

By this time those on watch had rushed to see the commotion but froze in their tracks seeing none of their own in the fray. They had no orders whether to intercede and so they kept a safe distance as the raging battle ensued. Snarling, vicious barks were followed by yelps of resounding pain as more combatants dropped from the battle, yet the fight waged on, none of the beasts willing to submit. One of the creatures, lifting its opponent above its head, reared back on its hind legs, standing peculiarly upright before hurling its foe into the fallen log Seth and the king both rested against, now their only protection from the battle. Seth, unable to move, watched as the beast hurled through the air smacked into the log with a thud only feet from where he lay, unable to defend himself. Seth knew he had failed, but was too weak to do anything about it. All he could manage to do for the moment was to bear silent witness to his own failure.

Only two of the beasts fought for dominance now while the remainder regained their feet and began limping around, encircling the two combatants. In the dark Seth could see the smaller of the two creatures lunge in for a strike only to be swatted away by the larger monster. For many minutes the creatures circled within the ring created by their peers, each one looking to gain an advantage. Finally the larger of the two, either finding the opportunity it needed or reluctant to wait any longer, sprang atop the smaller beast. Instead of biting or clawing at its opponent, the creature raised one great arm and, making a fist, began to pummel the smaller creature's head and neck until, whimpering, it relented, exposing its soft neck, showing its subservience to the new alpha male of the pack.

With the new alpha decided, the large beast, releasing his opponent beneath him, stood to his full height upon his hind legs. Even in his weakened state, with his vision blurring slightly, Seth could see that this creature was more man than wolf, in fact he was more man than any of the others, though Seth could not make out in the darkness which of the veterans it may have been. Each of the beasts in turn then stood, as a man on its hind legs, awaiting orders from the alpha.

The king observed as the number of combatants dwindled down and finally the last of them fell to the might of the superior creature. He realized sometime near the end of the fight, when those defeated had recovered and had not jumped back into the fray, what it was that had transpired. Wolves lived in a different world than men, where the strongest and fiercest ruled, and the rest obeyed. Being torn from their pack and having new strengths and weaknesses, a leader had to be re-established among them. That done, the king hoped that now he would be able to communicate with them.

Still dressed in full armor, and stiff from remaining motionless for hours, he rose to his feet, and first checked to make sure Seth was well and comfortable. Then he approached the new alpha of the pack to see who it was that would be assigned as the captain to his new soldiers. As the king stepped amongst the beasts, the two men who had been posted as guard this night, moved to protect their king if the need arose. Many in the camp had heard the howling, and minutes later the melee that ensued, but hearing no alarm sounded, this far into their own kingdom, none bothered more than a glimpse outside their tent before returning to get some sleep, each one assuming that the does, who had been wounded and tied to a tree for a later meal, had met an early end to the wolves who had been howling.

The king approached the beast that had only moments before been a man, though in the utter darkness he could make little out. He didn’t want to get so close as to appear as a threat, invoking some sort of attack from the men if they were no longer able to contain their urges.

"State your name and rank, soldier," the king commanded. He watched as the beast hesitated as if trying to remember how to form words.

"Borrik Darkenheart, sworn servant of Lord Seth and the Goddess Ishanya," Borrik growled, finding it difficult to make words with his overly large tongue and jaw. To himself his voice sounded alien. It was deeper now, more feral, but not only were his vocal cords altered, so too was his hearing, allowing him to make out even the smallest discrepancies of his own tone and annunciation.

The king found himself in a bit of a predicament. He didn’t know where the mind of the man began and where the mind of the beast ended. As a pack of animals, these new soldiers would only follow the orders of their alpha, and their alpha answered to Seth first and foremost. King Valdadore knew with his blessing he could easily squash the alpha hoping to take his place, but the other creatures may not accept him as their leader. Also, by killing his priest the king could inadvertently turn Seth against him. Either option was a lost cause; it would be easier to leave the priest in charge, and command him through Seth.

"Very well, Borrik, what is the condition of your men?" the king asked.

"They are able to travel and will recover quickly, no serious injuries were sustained," Borrik answered. "However, your majesty, in their current condition none feel staying in camp would be welcomed by their peers, and the horses are likely to bolt at the sight of them." Borrik relayed the unspoken concerns of his comrades.

"Indeed it is a wise idea. Send them into the forest, I'll have your orders brought at dawn," the king commanded.

Without a word the half-men, half-wolves turned and, with unnatural speed and grace, they raced off into the forest, some of them dropping to all fours. Borrik alone remained, but seeing that the king had nothing more to say, Borrik walked past him to his master. Kneeling at his side he scooped Seth into his arms and strode back into camp bearing the magician to his tent.

Sara waited in half-sleep, trying to remain awake until Seth returned. She was instantly alert as the tent flap was opened. In the pitch black of the tent someone with a deep, grinding voice assured her Seth would recover. He was simply exhausted, and would be better by morning. With that the man placed Seth by her side and left the tent. Sara listened to Seth’s slow, even breathing to reassure herself, then lay down beside him, resting her head upon his chest, letting the rhythm of his heart lull her back to sleep.

Borrik returned to his tent feeling more alive than ever, but still adjusting to his new body. Being only a third wolf, he was not altered as much into a wolf as the other men had been. Much about his human form seemed unchanged, if the new coat of hair was ignored. What disturbed him most were his new abilities of communication. Wolves, it seemed, could not only communicate vocally with howls, barks and such, but had limited telepathic abilities as well. As his pack mates rushed through the forest now, Borrik would catch glimpses of vision from each of them if he concentrated. He could immediately establish whom the image came from, and since their own emotions were attached to the image, in an instant much was communicated. The process, however, allowed little privacy. Imagining his pack all lying down asleep, Borrik sent out the image with a feeling of happiness, telling his soldiers to go to sleep if they wished to make their leader happy. Nearly immediately the images stopped coming, so Borrik could let his mind rest and adapt to his new alien instincts.

Morning came all too quickly for Seth. He had blacked out the night before and, exhausted, slept unmoving and un-dreaming the entire night. When he awoke he still felt weary beyond belief. Opening his eyes slowly, Seth was greeted by Sara’s smiling face looking down upon him. Seth looked around to get his bearings, and found himself still dressed from the day before. The morning was chilly and smelled musty beneath the great canopy of trees, and the scent leached through the canvas walls of their tent assailing Seth’s nostrils. Praying he would become accustomed to the smell in short order, Seth rose to a seated position, and returning her smile, took Sara’s hand.

Seth related all he could remember from the night before, the transformation of the men, his exhaustion, his mistake in losing count of how many he had altered, the ensuing battle for dominance, his assumed failure but eventual success. He knew not how he had made it back to the tent, so Sara informed him that one of the men had brought him to rest late in the night. Seth hoped the men would be able to serve the purpose the king intended, and stretching his waking muscles, Seth stood as if to leave the tent. Pulling back the flap with one hand, he took Sara’s hand in his other, and took her outside their makeshift chamber with him.

Seth was astonished to see how much had changed out there, and Sara too looked around somewhat bewildered. The camp was a mass of silent action. The men of King Valdadore’s retinue quickly and quietly pulled stakes from the ground and rushed about packing up tents and gear as quietly as ghosts in the night. Everyone moved with a purpose, working with and around one another in rehearsed precision and much to Seth’s astonishment, the men in his camp were not alone.

Sometime in the night, after Seth had passed out he presumed, the rest of the troops and supply wagons that had yesterday morning left Valdadore had caught up with the king's procession. They had arrived silently, and without bothering to erect camp, they lay in ranks upon the ground, sleeping upon the naked earth beneath them. Seth’s camp, moving as silently as spirits to not wake the foot soldiers who slumbered upon the ground just a hundred yards outside camp, purposefully and methodically unassembled each tent, and packing it up stowed it away for later use.

Borrik sat resting upon the ground where his tent had once been, his cowl pulled low over his face, his head down, obscuring any view of his features. Leading Sara, Seth approached his loyal priest to assure himself the man had escaped the tent unscathed the night before, though assumed it unlikely that he would be completely unharmed.

As Seth neared Borrik, he watched as the man tilted his head oddly, as if picking up on some distant sound and trying to hear it better. Without a word, however, Borrik rose to greet his master before Seth had even had time to speak. Borrik turned to Seth, his cowl pulled low over his face, and falling to his knees like a pleading child, Borrik begged forgiveness.

"Forgive me, master," Borrik pleaded. His voice reaching Seth and Sara’s ears, a new and unwholesome quality to it. Seth registered the change, and marked its deepened, more gravelly qualities. He immediately understood the reasoning behind Borrik's actions.

"I did it out of necessity to further your cause, m'lord," Borrik begged. "I saw the men begin to change and realized they likely would not be willing to take orders from one not of their own kind, becoming so much like wolves themselves. Also, I knew in my heart that this melding would leave me better able to serve and protect you, my lord. Please forgive me this one dishonest act. Allow me to again prove my worth to you." Borrik continued to plead as quietly as he was able, not wanting to invoke the wrath of the others in camp.

Seth raised his hand commanding the priest to cease his groveling, and Borrik shut his mouth with an audible snap, awaiting his fate.

"Just tell me how the transformation has changed you, Borrik, and what you know of the men," Seth commanded.

Borrik went on to tell of his increased senses of sight, hearing and smell, and his new ability to communicate with the other men at will through the use of images and emotion. Having been the victor of last night’s battle, Borrik assured Seth of the wolf men’s obedience. Seth listened intently, and nodded his approval before he again asked a question.

"So, the men serve you and you alone, then?" Seth asked with a peculiar tone to his voice.

"No m'lord," Borrik nearly barked the words. "The men serve me as their pack leader, and do not question my orders. But wolves before had never any notion of a greater being, a creator so to speak. The human halves of the men know it was you who changed them. It is a strange realization for a wolf, but recognizing you as their creator, the men worship you as a god is often worshipped among men. The men serve you above me," Borrik assured his master.

"That is discomforting news," Seth replied, falling deep into thought. He was unsure if this would affect his contract with the Goddess Ishanya. The thought had never occurred to Seth that there may be some who would worship
him
instead of the goddess who gave him the abilities he had. Though his agreement was to tell those
who witnessed
his deeds that the goddess was the one he served, the agreement made no pact concerning those who were actually a
part
of his so-called miracles. Without such a clause Seth felt the argument moot.

So, with a slight grin, Seth gave Sara’s hand a squeeze and again spoke to his loyal servant.

"Well, let’s have a look at you," Seth urged.

Borrik without hesitation rose to his feet again. Throwing back his cowl he peeled his robe off completely, baring his entire body, apart from his groin region, which remained concealed by a cloth wrapped around his waist like monks were said to wear. Both Seth and Sara’s jaws dropped, astonished at the transformation that had completely altered the priest's body. Several others in the area froze in their duties, held in thrall by the appearance of the beast that stood among them inside what an hour before had been their camp.

Seth and Sara both viewed the once-man that stood before them, a turmoil of emotions assaulting them. Borrik no longer appeared the twisted mutation of an orc and a human. In fact, he resembled a human in form and stance alone now. His face had been altered so dramatically that it no longer looked man-like at all. His forehead swept back to an elongated skull and his ears had become larger and pointed, curving back from the sides of his head. His hair, now replaced by what could only be described as a mane of dark charcoal fur, fell from his head, cascading down his neck past his shoulders and ended between his shoulder blades. A patch of similar fur in the shape of a diamond stood on his chest, only the hair here was a subdued shade of white. His eyes had slanted slightly and become wider. They gleamed with savage intent and inhuman wisdom. His cheeks too had widened and now arced back from his face making room for what could only be described as his muzzle. It was not the long, pointed muzzle of a wolf, as might have been expected, but appeared more like the stunted muzzle of the type of dogs who were often trained to fight in pits. Escaping his lower jaw remained the enlarged canines that had before made him look much like an orc. But now, accompanied by the enlarged canines of his upper jaw and the rest of his pointed teeth, the face almost appeared natural.

Borrik stood very much like a man though it was apparent his joints now attached his limbs at slightly skewed angles from that of his human companions. His arms showed immense amounts of lean muscle, each well-defined beneath his flesh, and his ribcage had widened near the top, creating a more tapered look to his torso. His hips had splayed somewhat causing him to stand in a widened stance, much like that a warrior might choose to lower his center of gravity. Borrik's thighs and calves had become massive and muscular beyond belief and Seth reasoned the man could probably leap right over his head. Even the man's feet had undergone a drastic change. Elongating unnaturally, Borrik stood with what would have been his heels hovering several inches above the ground, instead resting his weight on what were previously the balls of his feet. This portion of his foot had broadened to support his great weight. Where once the man would have had five toes, now remained four massive toes so wide they splayed out to each side ending in claws. Borrik's hands had been clawed before this change due to his melding with the orc. However, now his elongated boney fingers had shortened dramatically and become thick and muscular. The claws remained, but not as noticeably, and covering his entire body, apart from his muzzle and portions of his face, was a layer of downy fur the gray of a stormy sky. The hair was so short it didn’t hide the definition of his many bulging muscles, but was so thick that no trace of bare flesh was visible anywhere upon his body. So even and perfect was his coat that it appeared to be as flawless and soft as satin. Sara could not help herself but to reach out and pet Borrik’s arm, and became a bit giddy at the realization that his fur was as soft as it appeared.

"You look...," Seth began, a word of description escaping him.

"Handsome," piped up Sara, completing Seth’s sentence for him. Seth nodded his approval to Sara’s evaluation. The man looked like a child's horrid nightmare, perfected and personified. He was now a frightening beast of a man, but so flawless was his form that his visage infused Seth with more a sense of awe than fear. Borrik, though in reality a creature wrought through mutation, looked as faultless as any other beast created by the gods.

"What now m'lord?" Borrik asked his master.

"Discard your robe and find some trousers that won’t hinder you. I want all to see you, so that the rest of the wolf men may return to camp when people accept that you are more man than monster," Seth ordered.

"M'lord, the rest of the men do not appear as I do," Borrik stated. "They are as much beast as they are man."

"Then find yourself some trousers. Check with Garret, he is about your size, and hurry, I want you to take me to the rest of the men," Seth instructed.

Borrik, the massive creature of Seth’s creation, turned with fluid-like grace and raced through the camp at an astonishing speed. Seth had no time to watch his servant go, for just as soon as Borrik had gone, the king approached. Apparently the king had seen Borrik relinquish his robe and too had stood transfixed, taking in the awe-inspiring view of the giant beast. Holding his head high and striding over to Seth, the king had questions. He was so self-assured and confident Seth couldn’t help but wish he was more like the man.

The king began by complimenting Seth’s achievement, as well as Borrik's new appearance. But eventually he asked about the men’s abilities, and finally their loyalties. Seth was forced to lie again, telling the king that the men took their orders from Borrik, which was true, and that Borrik served Seth, also true. He left out the part about the men serving him as their deity, and instead substituted how he would relay the king’s orders to Borrik and through Borrik to the men. The king showed no discomfort, as that was precisely how his military worked. The king gave orders to the generals, who gave orders to their captains, and so on down the line went the orders to the lowliest man. Seth informed the king that he intended to visit the wolf men to get a feel for them in person, and the king, supporting his decision, assured Seth that he would delay the departure from camp if the need arose until Seth had returned. Then the king strode off to attend to whatever other business he had.

Seth and Sara awaited Borrik’s return. Only moments later they saw him racing back across the camp, leaping the remains of the previous night's fire and come to a skidding halt before his master. Many heads in the camp swiveled this way and that watching the beast with mixed emotions as he sped to and fro through the camp.

"The men are already approaching, and will meet us just out of eyesight beneath the trees. They requested their armor and weapons so I gathered those as well and placed them at the edge of the woods. They will be arriving any moment." Borrik paused briefly and appeared to be concentrating. "Disregard that, m'lord, the men have already arrived and await your presence patiently," Borrik relayed.

With a nod Seth strode from the camp, heading for the cover of the deep shadows beneath the trees. Sara walked at his side, clinging to his hand in the semi-darkness, and, as they entered the trees, Borrik stooped low and scooped up a large, clanking bundle wrapped in what appeared to be the tattered remains of the tent that had been destroyed the previous night.

Approaching a small clearing just beyond view of their camp, several pairs of feral eyes reflected in the gloom. Reaching out with mental tendrils Seth located all eight of his soldiers in the clearing ahead. Seth marched into the clearing bringing Sara with him, and followed closely by Borrik. Each of Seth’s wolf soldiers stood as a man on hind legs to regard him as he entered the clearing, then, each moving as one, they knelt low to the ground showing their subservience to him. Borrik too bowed low, unable to restrain himself against the will of the pack. Seth simply nodded his understanding and the beasts once again rose.

Borrik had not been mistaken when he had claimed the other men did not look as he did. The similarities were there of course, but Seth’s eight soldiers appeared to be a twisted mockery of what Borrik had become. Their bodies were covered in thick, matted, coarse fur of varying colors and patterns. Though they stood upon their hind legs, they appeared to struggle with the position, their unnaturally curved spines making them appear hunch-backed and their shoulders caved inward toward their chests. The beasts did not have the human definition in their hands either. They still had individual fingers, though they were stubby and covered with tough pads and ended in claws. Their feet looked much like Borrik’s though it was hard to make the determination with such thick fur covering the finer details. But it was their faces that disturbed Seth the most. Unlike the graceful sweeping forehead, cheek bones and elongated skull that Borrik had assumed after his transformation, these creatures looked like a taxidermist's nightmare. Their heads kept the majority of their human bone structure, but jutting out from their faces were long, pointed muzzles very much like those of wolves, as if the human and wolf had been cut apart like a puzzle and stitched together unnaturally. Their eyes, like Borrik's, had changed but the gazes of these men looked wild; barely constrained ferocity glinted in their eyes. Seth was unafraid of the creatures, knowing they could not bring themselves to harm their creator, but he also knew that these men would never again be accepted by the others in camp. Though blending the men with beasts had succeeded, Seth was sorely disappointed at the results of his effort, and decided at the earliest opportunity he would make it right. All Seth needed were some orcs.