Age of the Gods: The Complete, twelve novel, fantasy series (The Blood and Brotherhood Saga) (94 page)

Wanting to feed upon both at the same time, Anna then dragged the man with all four of his limbs broken over to the table his lover was pinned to. Lifting him, she draped him over his lover’s thigh, and using no more than her finger nail, she slit his throat, letting his blood spill down the woman’s bare thigh below her skirt. Anna then bit deeply into that same thigh and drank deeply as the two bloods mixed in her mouth. Though she might never be sure of the fact, Anna could swear she tasted the couple’s love for one another in their mingled blood. The thought, added to the intense pleasure the influx of power brought her, caused her one last orgasm that night. Wanting to luxuriate in the feeling, after having climaxed, she let the man fall to the floor as she strode across the room. Leaping lightly, belaying gravity, Anna spun and landed in a seated position upon the surface of the bar. There she sprawled out like a feline and stretched her muscles before lying down to enjoy reliving the day within her mind. There she lay for a quarter of an hour before she again rose, deciding that perhaps it was time to leave Traiven and go explore the location of a larger flock from which to feed.

Anna flexed her taut muscles. Twisting her neck to an extreme angle, she smiled as the bones in her neck cracked several times. Spinning upon the bar, her nude body was an abomination, as if created by an insane person’s darkest thoughts. Pale white, milky flesh shone out between patches that were blood-stained. Her young body bore the traces of rivers of blood that had begun at her mouth and spilled from her chin like crimson waterfalls to fall upon her perky breasts before spattering upon her abdomen, thighs, and everywhere in between. Her fiery red locks hung in tangles, with dried blood and gore clinging like scabs between the strands. Her arms to the elbows were pure red as if dipped in blood, and her legs looked much the same up to her knees, as if she had spent hours stomping around in puddles of spent life.

Anna’s lips parted in a wicked smile. Something about it was unnatural, almost predatory. In that smile was a sign of the monster she had become. More than that, her eyes shone with a hue that was demonic and screamed that something evil had been spawned and now lived within the awkward body of the young woman none would suspect. Seeing something across the room Anna began to giggle, her small breasts bouncing slightly with the sound. Upon the floor a young man moaned in agony, trying in vain to roll himself over with broken limbs. Anna began to laugh harder.

Hopping down from the bar, she strode across the room like an agile, predatory beast. Her adolescent hips swung from side to side, slightly over-exaggerated, obviously accentuating the motion. She moved fluidly. Graceful to extremes, Anna walked among the dead and dying, each of them covered in gore, like a dancer upon a stage. So light she appeared, that had anyone witnessed the scene they would have imagined her floating among the dead, like a ghost come to mourn those lost.

Kneeling beside one of her favorite victims of the night, Anna began to undress the woman, peeling blood-soaked leather from the body. One by one she removed the shapely garments, and one by one she donned them herself. Only moments passed before Anna rose once again. Dressed now from head to toe in black and buckles, she strutted towards the door. She smiled again. Pulling the door to the tavern open upon its hinges, Anna watched as the last rays of the sun vanished from the sky. With naught but a wicked grin she stepped out into the night.

She was now a creature of singular purpose. Pleasure was her only want, her only need, and her only desire. Fortunately for Anna, she had learned well this day that pleasure could easily be found with a lover. But it could also be found feeding upon the blood of others. Anna could not help but to decide that Momma had been wrong; it was definitely better to play with one’s food.

Anna could not help but to look back into the tavern that had been like a second home to her these last years.

Blood and gore clung to everything in the room, dripping like melted wax from the walls. Bodies lay here and there like so many discarded dolls, each swimming in a pool of its own fluids. Steam still escaped them from time to time, the room being painfully cold in the evening of late fall. Tables and chairs lay overturned or broken and naught but a single candle still sputtered from a hanger upon one cobblestone wall. Here a wicked deed had been done: a deed born of evil, malice, and hunger. There had been peace and happiness here once, though from this day forward none would remember. Forever it would remain tainted, the air tasting of iron and smelling of decay.

-End

AGE OF THE GODS, VOLUME V

THE BLOOD AND BROTHERHOOD SAGA

Within the span of a few months the entire future of the world had been rewritten.  Out of obscurity two new champions blessed by the gods had arisen upon the face of Thurr. Believed twins, these champions were blessed with abilities that made them each an asset in battle. Heeding the call of their kingdom, the twins Seth and Garret had marched to war against the black horde, an unbeatable army comprised of orcs, trolls and goblins.

* * * * *

Using his unparalleled magical abilities, Seth created new races of men to serve the kingdom of Valdadore, melding wolves with men to create werewolves. At their head, Seth appointed Borrik, a once-human priest to the goddess Ishanya, who now served loyally as the alpha werewolf, a vicious predator designed for killing. Garret, trained by the mighty Knights of Valdadore, became a warrior unlike any other, impenetrable to physical harm by any weapon. Together with their allies, the brothers faced the previously undefeated black horde. Though the battle had eventually been won so, too, had much been lost.

Taking an arrow to the neck, Sara, Seth’s young wife, had fallen in the battle.  Losing control of his powers in his anguish and rage, Seth unleashed his magic with devastating effect to both friend and foe. In that final blast, the battle was won as thousands of enemy troops were obliterated. However, the King of Valdadore and several of his blessed warriors were also destroyed by it. Seth and Sara were nowhere to be found. Most assumed them dead, as no trace remained of the young couple.

* * * * *

His brother, king and mentor, Lord Sirus, slain, Garret had no choice but to ignore the emotions threatening to overwhelm him as his new duties begin to stack up in service to the kingdom. Witnessing the suicide of Sirus’s wife Sasha, he was charged with looking after their beautiful daughter Linaya. Each overcome with their own sorrows, Garret and Linaya sought solace from one another and became closer by the day as a deep-seated love began to grow between them.

* * * * *

Seth and Sara found themselves transported to a foreign land following the magical blast that had ended the battle with the black horde. Though Sara had been mortally wounded, Seth managed to save the woman he loved by using his powers to combine her life force with that of a local species of bat with amazing healing abilities. However, he soon began to realize that his abilities came with untold and sometimes devastating consequences. As Sara was restored it quickly became apparent that their lives together would change immensely. Sara had become an agile, powerful, bloodthirsty predator who could no longer abide in the sun. Together the pair set out to find their way back home, but were captured and delayed by a small tribe of miniature men and women. Hearing these people’s sad tale of persecution by the mysterious Zoomba, Seth and Sara allied themselves with the small race in hopes of defeating another immense enemy. Little did they know that the enemies were cat-sized insects that numbered in the millions.

* * * * *

Borrik, the alpha werewolf, sent his hybrid troops in all directions to seek out Seth following the battle with the black horde, believing his master still alive. Leading a small contingent of wolf troops himself, he was approached by more of Seth’s creations in the night. The pair of feline girls Seth shaped prior to the battle swore that they knew the location of their creator.  Changing course, Borrik followed the trail laid before him by the feline sisters, racing east towards the mountainous border of Valdadore. As he and his men raced day in and out to reach their master, the lunar cycle progressed. Under the influence of the twin full moons in the sky, the contingent of hybrid wolfmen were filled by lust-induced rage, and brutally raped the inhabitants of the small community before fleeing the scene to again seek out their master.

Cresting the mountains the pack of werewolves were accosted by a giant and took several casualties before finally bringing the immense beast down. Rejoined by another pack of his troops, Borrik led his men onwards and soon witnessed Seth’s magical fire in the distance. Leaving his injured men behind, Borrik and his troops raced with no regard for their own safety to his side.

* * * * *

Reunited with his troops, Seth formulated a plan to defeat the insect army. Together with the help of the werewolves and the miniature race of warriors, Seth and Sara managed to destroy the queen of the insects. Their leader lost, the remainder of the Zoomba dispersed as Seth, his lover and his hybrid soldiers headed back to the capital city of Valdadore. Along the way they were rejoined by the remainder of Seth’s small personal army of mutated men before reaching their destination.

* * * * *

Garret sought to help repair the kingdom, and now upon the royal council in his role as a Knight of Valdadore, he had the means to do so. He used his meager influence to help vote good people into positions of worth within the kingdom with the help of allies in the council. When it came to selecting a new king, however, two unexpected events occurred. First, Garret made an enemy of the powerful battle mage Vladmere who fled the city after setting the mages’ tower ablaze once he realized he would not be elected as king. Second, Garret was tricked into the most powerful position within the kingdom, and within weeks a crowning ceremony was held in his honor.

If being crowned king of a mighty kingdom was not enough to make a memorable day for Garret, Linaya had also professed her love for him the night before.  To top that off, little over an hour after being crowned, Garret was surprised yet again as his brother apparently returned from the dead with his resurrected lover in tow. But that was not the end of the most memorable of his life.  No sooner than is the new royal family reunited than a messenger from the western border of Valdadore arrived to announce that the kingdom was being invaded by their neighbors led by King Sigrant. Bloodshed, it seemed, would not remain a thing of their past.

* * * * *

Thus the world of Thurr is awash in uncertainty and war is upon the horizon, though this is not limited to the petty squabbling of mortal men. In the immortal plane, the domain of the gods, pieces are being moved strategically in preparation for a battle unlike any other witnessed before. Ishanya, the goddess who had made a champion of Seth, has made plans to destroy her fellow gods, and her scheming has not gone unnoticed. Even now some of her peers work in secret to thwart her intentions. More champions of the like never seen before are being unleashed upon Thurr to do the bidding of the gods and soon a battle will erupt across the entire world as the gods fight for dominion over the souls of men.

Garret paced his study nervously, oblivious to the others standing in the stone chamber with him. He had only been crowned King of Valdadore five hours prior, and already the world had been flipped upside down by news from one of his own loyal messengers from the westernmost post of his kingdom. King Sigrant of neighboring Drakenhurst was moving to invade Valdadore in a plan to usurp the young, new king and claim the kingdom for himself. With the return of his missing brother, Seth, and his crowning, today was supposed to have been among the best days of Garret’s life. However, with the dire news he had been presented with just a few hours before, Garret’s mood was dark and rage threatened to overtake him.

“Twenty-five thousand?” Garret asked as he paced, then paused to stand behind his desk as if pondering something. “Where in the abyss did Sigrant get twenty-five thousand men? Twenty-five thousand!” Garret shouted and in a single swoop, swept the piles of scrolls and books piled high upon his desk to the floor with a crash.

“We have four thousand men, a third of whom are still recovering from the battle with the black horde, and now this!” Garret continued to shout and began pacing again.

“Garret, calm yourself.” Seth began, looking to the woman Linaya who sat in the corner, near to tears. “We are outnumbered, or so we believe, and the enemy has fire-breathing beasts to serve him as well, but we need more information. More than that, we need more time, not to mention more troops. But most importantly, we need a plan,” Seth concluded.

Garret continued to pace for several minutes, however, now he uttered not a single sound. As his thoughts played out in his head, those in the room with Garret could almost see the ideas come and go as his expression changed time and time again. Suddenly Garret froze mid-stride and turned to face those in the room with him, a menacing grin upon his lips.

“I have an idea, though it will take a fair amount of luck. First we need information, and I must get things in motion,” Garret announced, his smile fading as seriousness once again claimed his features. “Sulvis!” Garret shouted in a deep booming tone, calling upon his blessing to enhance his voice.

“Your majesty?” replied the old, grizzled war veteran,  general to Valdadore’s main armies, marching into the room with a look of gravity on his face that matched the king’s.

“I have great need of your counsel, old friend, and I have a plan I should like your input on as well,” Garret stated. “Send several parties west with all haste to gather up as much information about Sigrant’s force as possible. I require numbers, troop types, and by the gods. I need to know what these great armored fire-breathing beasts are.”

Sulvis called two of his captains in from the room beyond, gave his orders, and without even waiting for his men to depart, turned to face his young new king again.

“What else, your majesty?” Sulvis asked with one white bushy eyebrow rising.

“We need more troops. I realize there will not be another Choosing ceremony for two years, but if Valdadore is to survive this battle I will be forced to bolster our numbers by other means,” Garret stated, then paused to think a moment.

“Shall we try and call upon the dwarves and gnomes again for their aid?” Sulvis asked.

“Yes, but that is not what I have in mind,” Garret replied. “Send messengers to every town, city, castle, village and hamlet in Valdadore. I am drafting back into the service of the Valdadorian army every man who has served within the last twenty years and is still able to lift a weapon. Also, every boy who will be eligible for The Choosing within two years is to be called into the service of the kingdom.” Garret paused, a solemn look upon his face, but was interrupted before he could continue.

“What of women, Garret?” Seth’s wife Sara demanded, an annoyed look upon her face. “Can women not fight to defend their homes and their kingdom as well? Or are we to sit back and watch our men die for us?”

“Your point is well taken, sister,” Garret replied, then continued after pondering a moment. “Woman are to be drafted as well, however, only if they do not have small children whom they need to look after. Those with older children may come as well, as we can put them to work with the fletchers. We will need a lot of arrows.”

The conversation went on for hours and occasionally another council member would be called upon for input, or given orders to carry out as Garret saw fit. Already messengers were pouring out from the city gates headed in all directions from the great white castle city of Valdadore. Within days those called upon by the king would begin gathering at the castle. Several scouting parties thundered westward upon great imperial war horses with orders to only rest in their mission if their horses could carry them no further. The king needed information and the scouts vowed not to disappoint him. Makeshift forges were being constructed outside the city walls for all of the blacksmiths who would soon be gathering and large tents and canopies were already being erected in neat rows outside the castle walls.

A plan was forming, and with that plan Garret began to feel that there was hope. Seth was given multiple duties to accomplish, and even Sara and Linaya each had something of import to attend to. Late in the night the city bustled as the final plans were made, orders given, and duties were established. However, before Garret could even think about rest, there was still much more to discuss.

“We know King Sigrant is coming with a superior force, but I think it unlikely that he will be brash in his attack and will likely move only as fast as his slowest unit. He will want to strike us with strength in order to decimate us. That being said, we have about three weeks to prepare. We need to buy more time; we must delay him by any means we are able. Any suggestions would be welcome,” Garret invited, looking around the room first to Sulvis, then to Seth, and finally to Sara and Linaya.

“I have a proposal,” Seth said, breaking the momentary silence. “I will send my troops west to harass King Sigrant’s men during the night. I won’t have them engage openly, but quietly wreak havoc by starting fires, cutting horse tethers and other such things I am sure they will enjoy.” Then Seth paused a moment. “Wait, I have another idea that will help us immensely. Whilst most of my men will do as I have suggested, since my troops can communicate over great distances, I will command that they leave a sentry every few miles. Through them we can get constant up-to-date information on Sigrant’s progress, as well as troop movements, and if we are lucky they can discover what these great fire-breathing beasts are.”

“That is perfect!” Sulvis the senior army general nearly shouted. “I do wonder, though, how much your men’s harassment will slow King Sigrant and his armies. There must be something more we can do to buy us time.” He added, pulling a map from the pile of documents Garret had earlier flung from his desk.

The room remained silent many minutes while Sulvis studied the map, tracing his old, gnarled fingers over lines barely distinguishable upon the ancient parchment of the page. Then slowly the veteran’s mouth fell open, and his eyes widened in realization.

“I have found us a means by which to buy a significant amount of time, but it will require a lot of work,” Sulvis stated.

* * * * *

The young messenger raced westward upon a mount from the king’s personal stables at a reckless speed, the king’s urgency still ringing in his ears. The great white beast of a horse surged ever forward, its hooves churning up the soil and throwing dust and grass into the evening breeze. Messengers were selected for their size and ability to ride, and Darion was a perfect fit. Having been chosen in the same Choosing ceremony as the new king, Darion was also new to his role as a lookout and messenger for the kingdom of Valdadore, but for him, the role he was chosen into was akin to a dream. Nothing else in the world felt more perfect than racing through endless fields with the wind in his face, a born and bred charger surging beneath him following his every cue and command. Thus Darion rushed on to do as he was ordered: a task assigned to him by the king himself, a task with dire importance to the kingdom. It was Darion who had brought the news of the invasion by King Sigrant to the king’s ears, and it was now his task to return to his post to gather information about the opposing army. The excitement flowing through Darion’s veins was like nothing he had ever felt before. For the first time ever he was on a real mission; his deeds could save the kingdom. As the wind roared past his ears and through his sandy hair, Darion changed his position upon the great mount. Lowering his body and kicking the beast’s flanks he pushed the war horse to even greater speeds.

For hours Darion raced on upon his mount. Average horses could make the ride in five days at a steady gallop, but Darion hoped to make the trek in just two. Of course, he knew that it was his mount that would establish the pace they could maintain. Thus far he was impressed by the animal’s resilience and stamina. Even in darkness the beast charged on, as if it had been given the same orders as its rider. Darion clung to the reins and kept to the edges of the fields where they were level, running parallel to the road. Sticking to the soil instead of the cobblestones would likely preserve his mount’s shoes. By the light of the stars and one of Thurr’s luminescent moons, Darion led his charger onward, hoping to make the river within an hour’s time, where he could allow the beast to graze and drink momentarily as he also ate a quick snack. They would both need their energy.

As the night progressed, the sky became more and more clear as the temperature fell steadily. Winter was finding its way further and further south by the day, and before long the lower regions of Valdadore would see their first snowfall. Darion passed the time scanning ahead for dangers, peering between the foggy blasts of steaming hot breath from his charger’s nostrils. Darion was a small, wiry young man, and was beginning to feel the cold. As such he planned to pull something warmer to wear from his pack when they reached the river. The night deepened as the small man on his giant war horse thundered on, though with clearing skies and more and more stars casting their illumination upon the world below, the deed of riding during the night was not overly perilous.

Topping a small rise, Darion spotted the river meandering in the distance, appearing as a broken shimmering reflection of the sky that stretched from one horizon to the other. Moments later Darion slowed his charger to a trot as they approached the river’s edge. Looking around and up and down the river, Darion could see nothing to tether the beast to while it drank and grazed. However, as this was one of the king’s personal mounts, Darion released the reins and, hoping he was correct, gave a simple verbal command.

“Stay,” Darion said, anxiously watching the beast for several moments to see if it would heed his command. Seemingly understanding, the beast did not attempt to wander off, instead first taking its fill of water at the river’s edge, then grazing upon the thick, lush grasses along the bank. Satisfied that he would not be left stranded, Darion unslung his small pack and pulled out a thick, woolen shirt as well as a few strips of dried beef which he consumed within seconds. Putting on the wool tunic, Darion stood once again. Flinging his small pack back over his shoulders he pulled the straps, cinching the bundle tightly to his body. As Darion turned to regain the reins of his mount, he heard the whinny of another horse from somewhere in the darkness across the river. The sound caused him to hesitate slightly, and it was that which saved his life, at least temporarily.

From the darkness across the river, as Darion paused to locate the source of the other horse in the vicinity, a series of noises, thoomp, clank, thoomp, clank, thoomp, clank, sounded in rapid succession. Darion attempted to spin and locate these new sounds, but in the process tripped over a small stone that sent him crashing to the ground in a twisted heap. His clumsiness allowed him to witness the series of whistling whooshes that lanced over him and watch in horror as a volley of arrows embedded themselves into his mount, each strike ending in a thud.

Though the animal screamed out in pain, it was an imperial war horse and was trained to protect its rider at all costs. Instead of panicking and fleeing with all haste as most horses would have done, the great white charger spun and leaped over its fallen rider with a snort before crashing through the meandering river to the far bank. Darion stared on, frozen momentarily, as he realized that his mount intended to attack their unseen foe. As his charger was lost from sight, Darion listened and distinctly heard a man shout a curse before again the strange sounds filled the night-time air. Thoomp, clank, thoomp, clank, thoomp, clank. Over and over the sounds came, accompanied by hooves beating the ground, but eventually, after several moments, all the noises came to a halt with the death scream of Darion’s mount.

Darion had no idea how many foes hid within the darkness, though he assumed it must be many with so many arrows launched seemingly simultaneously. Though his first inclination was to regain his feet and run back in the direction he had come, Darion fought his urge to panic and slid on his belly towards the river’s edge. Once there, he carefully positioned himself and lowered himself into the river in total silence. Crossing to the far bank, to hide within the deepest shadows, Darion allowed the slow current to pull him downriver as he scanned the bank for a place to hide.

* * * * *

Mordal Whispen led his black mount eastward at a slow and calculated pace. Once crossing the border into Valdadore he had wrapped his stallion’s hooves in thick leather to muffle its footfalls and obscure its tracks. He guided the beast slowly over the foreign terrain, his senses straining for any sign of approaching danger. The night was growing colder, but Mordal liked the cold. As men cooled they moved slower, thus making them easier targets. Though he was not the top of his order, Mordal had been requested for this particular job by name. This would have swelled the ego of a man of honor, but to an assassin, an ego was something that could ruin his reputation.