The God Warriors (10 page)

"Possibly, but it's also possible we'll run into another group of them, and we don't want a fight while traveling with refugees. A great many things could go wrong with that scenario. Besides, The Fort is no place for these people, especially the children. No, we will stick with procedure and take them back to the nearest village. We will leave any of our wounded that cannot make it to the capital there to be cared for."

Ricon nodded and backed away, lost in his own thoughts, then assisted in getting the caravan ready. It would be a long, slow ride back, and a hungry one. He started passing the word for men and women to scout for any game they could catch.

Sierra, High Priestess of Hera, turned from watching her acolytes pack her trunk, when Orasif, Princess of Omnis, gained entry into her chambers. Smiling softly at the younger girl, the priestess beckoned her forward to a seat on a nearby divan. Sierra wanted to keep an eye on the packing to ensure the correct folding of her robes, not wanting creases or wrinkles. She remembered one visit to the Sotar where all her spare robes were simply stuffed into chests, and upon arrival in Butte, she was dismayed at the damage some of them had incurred. With her tall frame and lean build, light brown hair, and soft brown eyes, the priestess was the picture of Hera herself and took pains to present the proper image at all times. This meant robes without wrinkles.

Orasif was the complete opposite. Short, with fiery red hair and green eyes set expressively in a broad face with high cheekbones, she was the picture of health, especially with her olive skin tones and heavyset build.
The girl is still growing though
, thought Sierra as she examined her closely. At only twelve years of age, the princess was four inches taller this year, possibly more. It would be interesting to follow this delightful girl's growth over the coming years to see if she ultimately took after her mother, who was a very large woman, or after her father, who was a tall thin stick of a man. Right now, the exotic looking princess was somewhere between both parents.

"I'm sorry I have to leave, Orasif, but my goddess has given me a task," the priestess said softly as she reached out to clasp the girl's hands in hers. Both met in the middle and held tightly. Sierra was also the tutor of Orasif, as it had always been in the small country of Omnis. For generations beyond count, the High Priestess of Hera, or one of her acolytes, had tutored the princes and princesses of Omnis as they grew from young children into strong adults. Typically, the High Priestess would put the final addition to a particular subject the royals had almost mastered, just as it was in this case.

"Oh, I'm going to miss you, Priestess Sierra, so very much." The princess was almost in tears. The two of them had grown very close in the last few months. Instinctively the priestess reached out to fold the girl into a warm hug, as a mother would her own child.

"Hush now, child. I'll be back before you know it." Sierra smiled tenderly at the girl, and the sniffles began to cease. Slowly, the princess looked into her face and smiled tentatively.

"Are you sure I can't go with you to Korath?" asked a plaintive voice.

"I'm quite sure, Orasif. Hera addressed that specifically because the Mother is all-knowing and knew you would ask. She wants you here to study hard on your next subjects, especially math. You're a bit behind on that subject."

"Oh no! I hate math!" The tears threatened to start again, but Sierra quickly calmed the little girl.

"Now now, chin up, Orasif. We can't have an ignorant princess sitting on the throne now, can we?"

"I'm not stupid. I just hate math!" said the princess defiantly.

"Now, I never said you were stupid," scolded the priestess firmly, "I said ignorant, and I know you understand the difference. There will not be an uneducated princess while I am High Priestess. Do you understand?" she finished firmly, and the girl reluctantly nodded. "I'll make you a promise. Are you listening?"

"Oh yes, Priestess. What kind of promise?"

"I'll bring you back a wonderful present if you promise to work very hard on your math while I'm gone, but I will test you upon my return, and there better be improvement, young lady." Another firm tone, but Orasif was nodding eagerly, for the gifts of the priestess usually involved a new animal as a pet, which Orasif dearly loved. She had quite a few already.

"Oh, I will. I promise. But, please hurry back, okay?"

"I'll do my best, child. Now scamper off to your studies. I have packing to complete, and you're already late!" Smiling, Sierra released the girl and watched her leave, much happier than when she had entered before turning to the acolytes whom were still packing. The priestess nodded in approval as she watched them carefully fold and place each garment into the large chest, then her thoughts turned inward.

A new champion has come to us from Ares, one with Hera's blessing and help. That frightened her. A champion always meant a great war no one wished to see or experience. A war that would probably kill a great many people before it was over. For a champion to have the unequivocal support of several gods was simply unheard of. Not in all the histories had this happened before. This could only mean the end of all things if victory was not theirs. She wondered what the Jugazi were planning this time. Whatever it was, it was bad—bad in a way that scared her to think about. She needed to hurry and get to the champion’s side, to help prepare him and to offer what little support she could.

She quickly penned a missive to the head of the healers’ guild, requesting the release of three master healers and ten journeymen into her entourage. Instinctively, she knew that the thirteen would be a drop in the bucket to what they would eventually need, but possibly, they could assist in the training of Korath's own healers. Anything would help. She was positive. Omnis’ healers were the best in all the land.

"Hurry with that packing, my children, and one of you deliver this to the guild of healers immediately." She held out the note and one of the acolytes hurried over to retrieve it, while the other three packed faster.

That the meeting did not start out well would have been an understatement. John met with hostility moments after entering the general’s staff room. It was large, approximately fifteen by twenty paces, with maps covering most of every wall surface where there was not a window. Large benches with even more maps lying upon them lined the walls. Taking a quick glance, John saw that the second set of maps depicted terrain in different parts of the world. The center of the room contained a huge table where a relief of the continent was displayed, each country and strategic location clearly marked. John noticed that it looked eerily similar to his own country's war boards, with ally and enemy locations represented by blocks like chess pieces. Through an adjoining open doorway, he could see another large room with a huge polished wood table lined with chairs.
Must be the briefing or meeting room
, he thought before turning to the general.

The moment they left the castle, leaving Princess Alicree behind, Alvaldi grabbed a nearby guard and informed him of the king’s commands, told him to run to the general with word they would be arriving shortly. The general’s building and guard barracks was almost as massive as the castle. They joined by a short, very thick above-ground passageway. Alvaldi informed John the walls were three meters thick, the same as the castle and guard barracks. He also told John there were equally well-protected and massive underground passages leading to all gates of the city and other strategic locations, thus allowing troops to move around quickly where needed. With a look of awe, Alvaldi told John's face now held the marks of three gods: the spear of Ares, the starburst cross with lower hash mark of Hera, and the wavy dagger of Shianna, all in silver and slightly glowing. Alvaldi seemed scared, declaring absolutely nothing of this magnitude had happened before. He had never read or been told about such a thing. It was unprecedented to be the champion of three gods. Sometime between leaving the king and exiting the courtyard, the additional two had appeared.

"I don't care what the King said. You do not steal my men and claim to be my superior without consulting with me first, champion or no champion of Ares, and I guess a couple others! I have been serving this country and leading its military for over forty years, whereas you are just a child. We only have your word that you are who you claim to be. I reject the entire notion of handing over command of my armies to you. I will so inform the King. Now get out of my sight before I have you executed," sputtered the older man. Upon entering the general’s war room, he had taken one look at John's face, dragged another man over, and pointed at John while claiming the marks were fake.

"No, no, they are real," the man had said. "There is no way to falsify a god’s mark. It's bonded through the skin and not made of ink," said the man in awe, quickly bowing as John neared. John found out later this man was a wizard that worked in the general’s department. He communicated with outlying districts that had their own wizards. It seemed wizards were able to communicate with each other over great distances, and faster than any other means.

John could tell a rage was building and thought,
I could use a little help here, Ares. Moreover, what's up with the other tattoos?

[John, eventually you will have to fight your own battles. Let us see how you do. I cannot always directly intervene on your behalf. The other god marks were not my doing. It is Hera and Shianna who decided on their own to champion you also. I will admit that I was as surprised as you were when they appeared. Alvaldi was correct; being marked by three gods is unprecedented. In all my untold years of existence, this has never happened. I did suspect Mother might, but Shianna was a complete surprise.] John shrugged and decided to speak from his gut, realizing the general was already beyond reason, unless shocked, then placated.

"I see. Well, I would hate to be the one responsible for a general of Korath instigating civil war against his own King and country. I've grown quite fond of Princess Alicree already, and since the guard is 'your' army and not the crown’s, I would hate to see her hurt," he responded as he turned away but watched the general out of the corner of his eye.

"What civil war!" the man shouted, his face turning purple.

"Why, the one you would start, of course. You did say just now you would refuse to obey the King’s commands and that can only have one result. You and 'your' men would also be disobeying the gods of your people." John shrugged and turned to Alvaldi at the sound of choking noises coming from the general "Alvaldi, if anyone needs me, I'll be at the castle, preparing to protect the royal family from the General’s invading forces."

"You'll have to tell someone else, Sir John. My men and I will be joining you. I'll also send runners to inform the other units," responded the captain grimly. His eyes narrowed at the general and joined John on his walk to the outside doorway. Around them, shocked faces of over a dozen staff watched, many of them already moving towards the door, including the general’s wizard.

[This was not what I had in mind, John!]

Bear with me, please. I know what I'm doing.

"Stop, all of you!" All men paused, turning to the general, who was now pasty white. "I never said anything about civil war." He continued in a more reasonable tone, glaring at Alvaldi and a few others. "You completely misunderstood what I said. What I meant was that I would speak with the king, who I'm sure will see my side of this matter."

"That's not what you said, Sir. You clearly stated you would refuse to obey the King’s commands and those of our gods. I for one swore an oath to the crown, as did every man in this room. I still remember the oath clearly," stated Alvaldi, beating John into speaking first. The captain had a fierce expression on his face as he faced his general. The words "As do I" resounded throughout the room as all others present spoke almost simultaneously. It was a tense moment as the general stared at all of them, then reached up to scratch his head looking sheepish. John took advantage of this to begin speaking fast and as logically as possible. The general was finally listening. John had already figured out that these people were all about honor and chivalry, so he had carefully phrased his wording to enlist the help of the other men. Now, he had to placate this gruff old man.

"Look, General. I am not here to cause division within your ranks. I am here to save this planet from total annihilation and to protect the princesses of Korath. Let me ask you this, Sir. You have already read the reports of the recent battle, so you know I displayed superhuman strength and can bind Chaos and Order to my blade if I wish. You've also been informed that the God Ares himself spoke to his priestess, who spread the word to the King and others of my status. Now you see two more marks of the gods, an event that has never happened before in recorded history, here or in other realms. You see with me two Lorr wolves, a present from Hera and a breed that has never bonded to a human before in all your recorded history. Do you seriously doubt that I am a champion of the gods? Or, that your King would go against the mandate of the gods of his own people and himself just because you ask him too? Good luck with that, Sir. What I suggest is that we sit down and talk reasonably, as civilized men should. Any differences we have is minor compared to what will befall us if Chaos rules this day. Is this not so?" There was another pregnant pause from the general before he nodded, gesturing to a divan near him.

"Aye. This is so. Come sit, and we will converse like intelligent men," spoke the general, not smiling but with a thoughtful expression on his face.

[I'm amazed. I see I chose well,] the unbidden thought entered his head.

You mean Mother chose well, do you not?

[Agreed!] Laughter was now apparent in the god’s voice.

[Greetings, Champion,] the voice in his head now was feminine, but not soft and warm like Mother’s, instead hard and firm. Instinctively, John knew this was the Goddess Shianna.

Greetings, Goddess Shianna
, he returned, just a little bewildered and held up a hand to the general quickly.

"Sir, one moment please. The Goddess Shianna is speaking to me," he pleaded. The other blinked, eyes widening, then nodded.

[Refer to me as Shianna, I do not stand on formality like others. Do you know of me?]

Of course I do. You are the Goddess of Death, the Underworld, and Rebirth. Legend has it that you are a primordial, an elder god at least.

[True, I am that and more, although the Queen is stronger than me. Do you think me evil?]

Absolutely not! You are the antithesis of evil. You correct lost souls and set them on the proper path of basic goodness. You also hold the souls in need of guidance and provide a valuable way station for departing and returning souls. As a god, you are invaluable.
Thought John, knowing the goddesses history from his own world.

[I see you know your mythology well. All those are correct and more.]

Thank you.

[When Hera brought the current situation to my attention, my first thought was to prepare a champion of my own. However, looking into your soul, I see she has chosen better than I would have. You are a complex, resourceful, and unusual man. I am pleased. Now you are the champion of no less than three gods, and I would guess there would be more before it is over. When the Queen placed her mark on you, I could not prevent myself from doing the same. What is about to happen to this world is bad and an event we gods never expected here. You have my full support and within a few days, you will see my own gifts arrive.]

My thanks for the gifts, but honestly, they are not needed. Your support is enough.

[They are needed. You will see. Now, get back to your talk with that pompous general.]

Oh, he's not that bad. I can retrain him.
John smiled inwardly while hoping the goddess perceived the joke.

[So you say.] Mirth resounded within his head, and then she was gone.

Thank you for speaking to me
. However, the thought went unanswered, even though he knew she heard him.

"I apologize for the interruption, General, but I needed to take care of some internal business. Actually, first I would prefer to see the current strategic position of Korath, our allies, and those of our known enemies. Then we can get down to brass tacks," John said, waving at the strategy board.

"Brass tacks? What does that have to do with anything? And to your comment, I suppose if you stick around, we'll have to get used to that."

"Brass tacks is an expression we use on my old world. It means to sit down, put our heads together, to talk and think tactics and strategy. If at any time you feel I am not qualified, then we'll discuss that also."

"That is a sound plan. Come, and I will show you." With that, the general joined him.

The next hour or more going over the placement of armies on both sides, an outline of the neutral countries, and a clear illustration of the various routes in and out of each country gave John a broad understanding of the current state of affairs. Early into the briefing, he called for pen and paper, taking copious notes as ideas came to him. Alvaldi, looking over his shoulder, nodded once or twice, informing John that the translation magic, or whatever it was, was working just fine.

[It is not magic. It is a moderately hard rewiring of your brain. You can now understand, read, write, and speak all languages. Right now, it is instinctive. Soon, you will recognize each for what it is and adapt accordingly. I see Shianna spoke to you. I was surprised. It has been at least a hundred years since she did so with me,] said Ares.

Oh yeah, I forgot, and yes, she did.

Soon enough, they were sitting on divans facing each other with a low table between them. At this point, the general called an orderly over and ordered food for the both of them, which arrived within minutes. A very large tray was deposited that contained slices of what looked like beef roast, pork, chicken, and a selection of different cheeses. Half a loaf of thickly sliced bread accompanied it, along with a large bowl of mixed fruit. Evidently, the custom was to feed yourself so John dug in after the general speared his first slice of meat on a large fork that would have looked more at home on a charcoal grill than a plate. The large goblets of wine set before them had a fruity taste but were not bad. Similar to what his ex-girlfriend drank. John drank sparingly, however. He needed his mind clear for the next phase of their discussions.

Throughout the meal, the general engaged him in idle conversation, curious about the world he came from and the people there. Some of John's comments and brief stories brought snorts from the man as parallels between the two worlds were recognized, and the general was happy to point them out. However, soon the meal was over, and the leftovers cleared away, leaving only their goblets of wine. Then a much smaller version of the strategy board was placed between them, but before John could begin talking, the general held up his hand and spoke.

"First, young man, I would like to hear about some of the battles you've engaged in. Of particular interest is the numbers you faced, the terrain, and the strategy you used to defeat them. I can only assume most of yours were victories." At that point, the man raised one eyebrow, a tiny smile quirking the corner of his lips.

"Indeed, they were, Sir!" Then for the next two hours, John went over quite a few of the battles he'd fought and won, both in the marines and gaming. However, when he came to the gaming battles, he did not tell the other it was online war-gaming, with only hundreds of actual people involved, each directing armies of their own, some in spaceships, some in tanks, and many in advanced technology ground battles. Instead, he used medieval analogies for the differences. He finished with his most prestigious victory, that of being declared Warlord of the West when he claimed victory over half a planet. That elicited a round of clapping from all present, including the general who reached across to clasp the top of John's hand in camaraderie.