The God Warriors (7 page)

She knew that if they ever all banded together there would be hell to pay in the south. The good news was that they all fought each other with a passion unrivaled. With the regional passivity of the Red Stone Eaters and Thana, so far, only the dark ones and the Wolven appeared to enjoy conquest. However, just those two races were bad enough. Thank Hera the Wolven restricted their raids to Illian soil and not Jordache, though the same could not be said for the roaming bands of wild humans.

The company had formed and were starting to move out when a voice called out. "Elsa! Hold up a minute." Elsa groaned. The speaker was none other than Lasos. Lasos was another captain of the guard like herself, and a man who was full of his own magnificence. While she did not exactly hate him, she did not intend to share his furs like so many other women. The irritating quality of Lasos was that he was relentless, and she'd known more than a few that had given in just to shut him up. She also considered that option but decided against it. Perhaps it was a foolish thought, but she could not help thinking there was someone out there who was right for her, someone who would love her for herself, not as a conquest of short duration.

"Lasos. Something wrong?"

"Why no, Elsa, I was simply hoping to set up a date upon your return from patrol ten days from now." He smiled charmingly, but she was not even slightly fooled by his act. The man simply wanted in her leathers badly before moving onto the next girl.

"Lasos, I've told you half a hundred times. I'm simply not interested."

"Well, I know you do not prefer the company of women, so it's obvious you're simply playing hard to get. I tell you what. I will agree to forsake all others if you grace me with your presence. Elsa, I have fallen in love with your beauty and would have you as mine!" he intoned in a deep and rich voice while waiving one hand overhead in an airy fashion.

Elsa laughed. She could not help herself. After wiping the tears of merriment from her eyes, she leaned down the saddle smiling. She saw his answering smile, and it was obvious he thought she would agree, until she replied.

"You're so full of dung, Lasos. Your vow would last less than a minute after leaving my furs or me leaving yours. Besides, I like my men tough, and, from what I've seen, you seriously lack in that area."

She watched with amusement as his face purpled. Without another word, he turned on his heel and marched away. Shaking her head ruefully, she shrugged. It was not as if he could beat her anyways. He had tried that also in the past, and she whipped him thoroughly on the practice field. He also knew that if he attempted to strike her, she would knock him out again, just as she did the first time he had grabbed one of her breasts while they sparred. If he did it again, it would not be pretty or nice…for him.

"Okay, boys and girls, fall in and let's get moving!" she called out as she kneed her horse to the courtyard opening, waiting on the others to form on her. Slowly with increasing speed, they rode to the gates.

The dark figure turned to the window at the sound of another rumble and watched yet another stream of lava trickle down the side of the nearby volcano. Large-boned and well-muscled, a black robe covering his huge frame, his black eyes stared. Footsteps, then he felt the presence of another behind him.

Turning, he frowned. It was his general, wearing a worried look on his face. The general's eyes shifted.

"What news, Graff?"

"Dark Excellency, over thirty tribes have answered our drums with more expected today. The sub-priests are still preparing the chamber for the summoning of the Devourer and more of our human subjects arrived late yesterday. Our numbers are increasing nicely."

Rage infused the Dark Excellency, and, like a striking cobra, a black arm thrust out, its talon covered fingers tightly grasping around the neck of the general, pulling him closer. The Dark Excellencies thick lips with protruding tusks snarled.

"Thirty? I am disappointed in you, General Graff. By now, I expected at least a hundred tribes of Jugazi to respond."

"Over thirty, your Dark Excellency. Thirty-one to be exact, and more are responding daily. It will take some time to gather the hordes," sputtered the general as the Dark Excellency loosened his grip slightly allowing him to breathe and speak.

"And, of the humans?"

"Several thousand already and more are trickling in daily." Graff gasped again as the hand tightened on his throat.

"Only several thousand? There should be thirty thousand, minimum. I am disappointed in your performance." The Dark Excellencies hand tightened, and the general convulsed as his throat crushed instantly beneath the strong grip. The lifeless body fell to the side as the Dark one released his grip and turned to the other man before him. "Who is Graff's replacement?" the Dark Excellency called out in a mild voice, turning towards those assembled near the doorway. One stepped forward.

"It is me, Excellency. Moff of the Spirit Clan."

"What would you do differently from your predecessor, Moff?"

"Send out the Reavers immediately, to the tribes and the humans. Kill the lineage of each group's leaders and make the rest swear allegiance to the holy cause," stated Moff without hesitation, and the Dark Excellency approved. Perhaps he should have started with Moff instead of Graff, but it was not too late to correct past mistakes.

"Yes, General Moff. Send the Reavers, and make it so. I will attend the preparations for the Lord's summoning, and you will bring the people into line."

"Yes, your Dark Excellency, but one question, please. What do you wish done with the Thana, Wolfs, and the red ones?"

"Leave the red ones alone. The earth dwellers you can kill at your leisure, as they will join us eventually. The Wolven? Find their leaders and bring their packs into our ranks."

A wolfish grin answered his words, and the new general turned and marched out, intent on his task.

"Oh my god, the smell!" exclaimed John as he sat on his horse gagging beside the entrance to Korath City.

"What smell?" asked Alf, turning to John, confused.

"The open sewer smell," gasped John as he pointed out the foot deep cement ditches lining both sides of the main thoroughfare. At a foot wide, they were mostly covered with split shingles as walkways but enough open space remained to make the contents obvious, for human and animal excrement could visibly be seen sluggishly moving towards the gates as the ground slanted in that direction.

"What? That's the latest thing, Sir. I heard that fifty years ago people simply did their thing in the street or between buildings. Now we have the trenches and convicts to dump buckets of water in them every fifteen minutes."

How could you do this to me?
He thought.

[I thought you were familiar with medieval history, and this situation is similar,] replied Ares.

Yeah, but you didn't warn me about the smell.

[Get used to it, and be ready for more surprises that are unpleasant.] A soft chuckle sounded within his head.

Grumbling, John cut off the connection with the god by simply willing it, and after spitting the foul taste out of his of his mouth, he concentrated on the cobblestoned road ahead as much as he could through watering eyes. The taste kept returning, which forced John to keep spitting off the side of his horse, an action Alf frowned upon. Alvaldi took the moment to ride up alongside, clapping him on the back.

"First things first, John. The King will want to see you, and since you claim the God Ares charged you with protecting his daughters, the princesses, you will need to meet them also. Good luck with one of them. Oh, and the King expects you at noon bell, which is in about an hour." Alvaldi started chuckling to himself, and John could only look at him sideways while trying to hold his breakfast down.

"What do you mean by that?" he asked.

"I refuse to spoil the surprise. You will also need to be assigned a protection element of the guard, as the King will doubtless assign this company to someone else, most likely not deserving the honor."

"What's wrong with my company?"

"Well, technically it's Onias's company, not yours, if you're a champion of the god. Though it's been a few hundred years since the last champion, normally, I think a detail is assigned you."

"I'll keep this one, if you don't mind. They may be a bit rough around the edges, but I have no doubts I can whip them into shape," John responded.

"What do you mean, ‘Rough around the edges?’" asked Alf with a hurt look.

"Shut up," both John and Alvaldi said at the same time, as each trading grins.

"You'll need to get the King to agree, which will be hard. He has half a courtyard full of retainers begging for your position already, I'm sure. Now that word has spread you're a champion…let's just say good luck and leave it at that," said Alvaldi.

[John, go to my temple first. My mother knows there may be difficulties in your reception with the King because of your…penchant to speak your mind, so she arranged a gift I am sure you will enjoy.]

Thanks, Ares!

"What's the penalty for slapping a king upside the head for being difficult?" asked John.

"Public hanging after forty lashes with a barbed leather strap," laughed Alvaldi. "Don't worry about the hanging part, though; I doubt anyone could survive thirty lashes, let alone the full forty."

"Good to know. Thanks, Alvaldi." The other nodded in return and looked back at his men straggling in through the gate. His new friend frowned, and John could not help but commiserate with him. Although a fine bunch of fighters, they were second rate compared to any modern army from where John came. Alf rode nearby, and John called out to him.

"Alf! Where's Ares’s temple?"

"Straight ahead, on the right side about a hundred yards. Why, Captain?"

"Do not ask questions, my hairy and smelly underling," said John piously, causing Alvaldi to chuckle beside him and Alf to roll his eyes, but it was true. Alf was an incredibly hairy individual who stank like the pits of hell. He refused to take a bath in a nearby stream this morning, claiming it was too cold, though most of the rest of the rescue force joined John. Most of the women and children arrived to wash up too, as modesty did not seem to be an issue with this world's peoples. He knew there was a serious talk coming in Alf's future about this aberration to being clean. Just then, a large building came up and the diagonal upright spear on the front stone façade, along with the two stone statues of armored warriors, made it obvious whose temple it was.

"Ok, men. I need to see the priest or priestess. They will have something for me, a present from Hera herself. I'll see you back at the barracks, Alf, and, no, I won't be late, Alvaldi," he said, turning into the small courtyard facing the huge edifice and swinging down from his horse. Striding up to the stone doors, he simply pushed them inward and entered. Two female attendants rushed to either greet or confront him, but he paid them no attention, looking around the interior.

Well-lit with huge stained glass windows depicting  Ares engaged in a variety of combat scenes, along with a few depicting peace, the room contained two rows of wooden benches. At the far end, a stone altar stood, draped in red and gold cloth, with a silver bowl in the center of its covered surface. The usual assortment of candles in golden holders completed the picture of any decently sized church in John's world.

"So, you are the new champion." The comment was a statement and not a question. John turned to find a woman had appeared behind him. A vision of loveliness, she stood tall, staring back at him with piercing green eyes and blonde hair. The shapeless and almost translucent gown she wore only enhanced the beauty of what had to be the priestess. Almond shaped eyes separated by a delicate nose and strong chin completed the picture of one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen. Striding to her, he bowed slightly and smiled.

"You must be the Priestess. I am John, the Champion of Ares, as you guessed. Are all of Ares’s priestesses as beautiful as you?" John studied her intently as he asked this question, trying to gauge the type of person she was. He was pleased to see she ignored his flattery.

"Some are more beautiful. I have a present for you from Hera."

"Yes, Ares mentioned that.”

"I see. Well, you have little time, forty-five minutes in fact, until your appointment with the King. You should not be late. Let me show you what the goddess has gifted you, Champion." Turning her head, she whistled.

Loping out of a back room, through a doorway John had not noticed until now, came two white wolves, or what he assumed were wolves. The physiology of this world was slightly different from the Earth he knew, and these beasts were no different. Each was massive, one slightly smaller, both with fur so white it shone with silver highlights, with the symbol of Hera blazed in grey upon the tops of their heads. The symbol was one he had seen many times in books, a cross with a short horizontal line near the bottom, and an X through the cross. The wolves’ dark eyes were intelligent, and they scampered up to John like playful puppies, even though each must have weighed close to three-hundred pounds.
Different planet, different physiology, yet similar to the wolves of my world, only bigger,
thought John.

They were beautiful, and he instinctively dropped to one knee as the two wolves approached. Seeing this movement on his part, the wolves bounded forward even faster to slam into his body at a tremendous speed, licking his face and nuzzling against his neck, while throwing him onto his back with a shout of joy. To John’s mind, this was Kali personified twice, and he roughly grabbed their fur and hugged them tightly, not realizing until now how much he'd missed his best friend, or how hard he had tried to block her from his thoughts.

As they physically connected, he felt a surge of emotions overcome him, his thought processes overridden, showing him their love and devotion for him. He knew without doubt he had a connection with these beings, and finally, sitting upright, he hugged them close, tears of happiness coursing down his cheeks while they licked his face ecstatically. He also knew they would be inseparable, and where he went, they would follow. They were as much his guardians as he was theirs. All these thoughts and feelings filled him within seconds of their meeting, and he felt the loneliness he never knew he had began to recede away.

[They have imprinted with you, John. Now, no human may touch either without your permission, or theirs. They are unique and incredibly rare in this world. They are Lorr wolves, the stuff of legends, and until they die, they are yours. They know this as do you.] The warm feeling of the Mother washed through him as he continued to hug his new companions.

This is a tremendous gift, Mother,
he said in his mind.
They are wonderful!

[The gift did not come at light cost, but there is an end game to your being a champion of Ares, and I would have you prepared. You will find them indispensable. They can read human emotions and will ferret out your enemies much quicker than you are able. Trust them as they trust you.]

Wow! Where did they come from?

[The world they inhabit is close, dimension wise, to your earth and this world you currently find yourself in. It is a world of many races, also beings such as these. Through the ages, every so often, the fabric between these nearby worlds weakens allowing travel across the threshold of space and dimension. It was during one of these moments when the membrane grew weak that a few pairs of these magnificent animals crossed over along with residents of that planet. Since that time, more of their race crossed over shortly before the destruction of their world. That race now lives to the west in a land of giant trees. This race dwells both in the trees and in the ground, but have no buildings as you would understand, lying directly upon the earth. I convinced them to allow you to have a breeding pair, which was no easy task, and Ares’s priestess transported them here. Just remember one thing, John. Do not mistreat them or allow them to be mistreated. Their binding is absolute. Love them and use them well.]

Oh, I will! Thank you, Mother.

[You are welcome. They only breed once a year, and it will be your choice whom to give the offspring to. Now go see your king! You are out of time.] With that, he felt his connection with Hera cut off, like a feeling of loss within his being and he turned to the priestess who was already talking.

"My name is Tamara, and I'm the High Priestess of the Order of Ares. Take these two as your own. The God Ares informs me if you do not leave now you will be late. I also understand someone will be sent to help you acclimate to this world and to deliver additional history not generally known. However, you must hurry. Impressions are everything. Have you named them yet?" she inquired.

"They are already named. This one is Korth and this other sweetheart is Kirth," said John fondly, stroking each head. "Call me John, Tamara. I have a feeling we'll be seeing each other often." John smiled at her and patted the heads of the two Lorr. It was true that in the moments of their bonding, they told him their names.

"Most likely this is true, but you need to hurry, or you'll be late." With a clap of her hands, a young boy ran up to them, and Tamara said quickly, "Take the Champion to the castle as fast as possible." He did not respond, but simply grabbed John's hand and pulled him out of the temple to his horse. Korth and Kirth were on his heels as John quickly pulled himself into the saddle and followed the boy, who took off running.

The two Lorr kept pace with John's horse, their silver grey fur and size unique, drawing exclamations of wonder as they hurried on their way. Over three foot tall at the shoulder, they were the size of small ponies, and the four-inch incisors visible when they panted left no doubt in anyone's mine the devastation they could cause if provoked. As they hurried to the castle following the boy, the two Lorr raised their heads to John, gave a soft whine, then growled at any passerby who tried to touch them.

It felt like only minutes, but in reality was almost a half hour when they finally reached the gates of the castle. Alvaldi was there to meet him and ushered John in quickly. When the guards attempted to block the wolves from entering, deep growls arose from both, causing the men to stumble back.

"Do not touch them. They are my companions and will follow me wherever I choose to go," snarled John as he dismounted, then strode past the guards into the outer chamber before the inner sanctum where the king would be holding court.

"May I pet them, please?" asked a tiny voice to his right. A small girl, possibly six years of age in a frilly pink dress smiled up at him, peeking from around the corner of a double column that fronted the huge portal doors guarding the king’s domain. She was beautiful, with curly brown hair and a rosy-cheeked smile.
All happiness and sunshine,
John thought, as he could not help smiling back.

"Why don't you ask them?" he said kindly. "This is Kirth, and that one is Korth."

Slowly, the girl walked up to the closest, which happened to be Kirth, and bowed slightly in respect to the large animal. Kirth bowed back with a dip of her head, and the girl asked politely, "May I pet you, Kirth? Please." The question was timid; the response was not, as Kirth woofed in a soft tone, then proceeded to lick the little girl’s face while Korth moved up behind her, licking the backs of her arms. Giggling, the little girl wrapped her arms around Kirth's neck and hugged her tightly. "Oh, you're so beautiful," whispered the girl as she buried her face into the white neck.