“My first.” Gorias swallowed, eyes looking at the wooden wall, seeing something far away. “She was, and will be again.” His voice thickened as he said, “When I near my death, she waits for me. Sometimes, when the rage is on me and the drink is heavy, I can see her.” He took a few breaths, stood up into a crouch and said, “But dying in a dungeon is no way to reach her, now is it? I’m a crazy man, getting’ old, thinking of the neighbor girl I covered as a lad. That was real though, all nice and sweet. Dunno why she seems so near at times.”
Out on the deck again, Thynnes said with a boisterous laugh, “That’s the spirit! I like a big man along who has a good reason to die fighting. No telling how much damage you can do.”
Gorias let his hair fly in the wind and stared at the distant land and mountains starting to take shape in the noonday’s light. He said, “One never knows.”
***
While the drakkar pitched forward in the waves, Gorias filled his belly with beef jerky and wine. He listened to Thynnes tell of how they liberated the sea faring vessels used in the Albion Navy from the Great Race of Thule. Gorias counted forty men rowing and guessed that Thynnes commanded nearly two hundred additional troops on the vessel. By their uniforms, chain mail, leathers, short battle swords and flails, Gorias surmised them as Albion infantry. These weren’t green troops, for many of the hard eyed veterans looked Gorias straight in the eye, unimpressed by his legend. The younger regiments of archers and a few axe men were content to ignore the Ingaevone. A few stared, the really green ones, curious over his story. The fellows rowing were naval men, heads shaved, wrapped in towels, and brawnier than the rest. Many of these men looked to be from Thule or other barbarian homelands, as they dwarfed the regular soldiers of Transalpina by quite a margin.
“Wise to steal from the best,” said Gorias, waving a hand at the vessel and then the rowers. “These flexible bastards can travel across any sea.”
Thynnes gazed overboard, seeing a few dorsal fins emerge through the choppy waters, and said, “They are fast as well, Gorias. I hope to be in and out quick, and back to Albion to carry out my other strategy.”
“Maybe that’s why the King sent you out here, General, to make sure you die and don’t overthrow anyone.”
Thynnes eyes bulged and he glared at Gorias. “You…don’t think…”
“I don’t just fight with my swords. You’ve been betrayed or the old asswipe on the throne figured you out. Mayeb Silex knows, too. Maybe not, but sometimes even freaky-boys catch a lucky nut.”
A grim look spread on Thynnes weathered face as the drakkar loped closer to the edge of the land. “Fah, what if he knows? The military is under my command. They love a warrior more than a freak any day of the month. Most of them are weary of the ravings of an aging miscreant.”
Gorias adjusted the strap for his sword across his chest. “You may need my service after all, more than you thought, old prick, if the King is onto your scheming ass. Some of his forces may be loyal to him, or at least his palace guard.”
An eyebrow raised at Gorias, Thynnes stated, “He may want to kill everyone on this vessel when we return. You are dogcrap by association then, old Ingaevone.”
Gorias roared with laughter, a strange sound to the men, as Gorias had been nothing but despondent since he came into their presence. “That may well be. I’d sooner take my chances back in Albion than with some unnamed horror.” Gorias’ smile faded as the drakkar moved closer to the docks the colonists had built, stabbing out into the ocean. “My skin is alive with the air of this place. Something is wrong and cold even for this early autumn season.”
The beach spread from side to side, somewhat muted with only a short field of sand to trek through. However, they guided the drakkar to the long wooden pier that extended into the ocean. Beyond the beach, Gorias could see tall grasses carry on for several hundred yards before a wider area cleared out. Unable to tell if crops or gardens inhabited this region deforested from the wilderness, Gorias could perceive many homes, barns and cribs beyond.
“The mountains are like a wall behind that community,” Thynnes remarked, causing many soldiers to nod in agreement.
“They drape in too close, like a shroud,” Gorias declared, thumbs fiddling with the top of his belt. “I see no people coming to greet us, or even signs of the ships that came before from Albion.”
Thynnes balled his hands into fists, but they swung at his sides. “Good point. Could they have been lost before they got here?”
Near by the railing, Gorias pointed to the beach and said, “Look far up near where the greenery begins. See? The tide has carried in planks from the water. Those are what remain of your drakkars or karrs, good men of Albion.”
A thick armed rower with a bushy beard, shouted, “Piss on you, Ingaevone! I am a Pryten slave!”
Gorias shrugged. “Something tells me that whatever lurks here in this community doesn’t give a damn about any of that.”
One of the soldiers gave Thynnes a panicked look and said stoutly, “Sir, we should turn back.”
“Because of a few broken bits of wood?” Thynnes raged and nearly struck the man. “Not on your life.” His gaze returned to the line of brooding hills beyond the village. “We must see what ails this land and our kindred.”
The concern shown clear to the soldier’s faces and Gorias shook his head from side to side. When they neared the dock, Gorias hopped up to the railing and said, “If you all would feel better, manly men of Transalpina, I shall go first and walk toward this village. If you can find your balls, follow me.”
Gorias leapt off the drakkar and onto the long pier before they properly moored the vessel. His boots tested the logs before he moved farther though and found the walk sturdy. Gorias scanned the land beyond the tall grasses.
“I can see some movement over there, a man moving beyond the village.” His words fell flat, as if bored by the sight. “Disembark and let us all…” His deep voice trailed off and Gorias’ eyes changed direction, toward the beach. Blinking, Gorias’ eyes then widened and his mouth fell open. “Jenna…” he murmured.
The soldiers stood and started to take up their arms or adjust their armor, Thynnes stepped over and stood near Gorias to ask, “What is it? Why do you speak of this Jenna again? This is a bad time to become horny.”
Gorias raised his right arm to point at the beach, and then let his hand drop. “My mind tricks me, General. I…”
“Did you see her?” Thynnes inquired, his words low and soft, understanding the Ingaevone at last.
With a quick nod, Gorias let his chin drop, but his eyes still searched the beach. “Yes, she was there, riding her horse. The sunlight makes the red in her mousy brown hair dance.”
Thynnes jeered him, saying, “That’s pretty poetic for a drunken Lord.”
Anger seized Gorias’ face as a few of the soldiers took up what Thynnes was saying. One jabbed at Gorias, saying, “You’re very sweet for a Ingaevone, old boy!”
Another fighter glanced down the beach and asked, “Where did you lose this Jenna?”
Fury burned in his hairy face, but Gorias looked away from them, to the sprawling beach and then toward the settlement. “I never lost her.” His big hand gently touched his chest, near his heart as he said, “I know exactly where she is.”
Gorias walked down the dock and stopped where the ground met the wooden planks. The others started to jump from the drakkar, walking until they noted Gorias stood motionless.
From the waters on either side of the dock came forth dozens of ivory colored shapes. They burst from the waters, ready to strike. Guttural roars in their mouths, these feral beasts swung long, hairy arms at the men of Albion and stabbed long claws at them.
Sword out, Thynnes yelled, “Crap! Voormi!”
Without hesitation, the veterans of Transalpina took the fight to the fabled man-beasts of the hills, come down to attack in
truders to their realm.
A few of the fighters were taken by surprise, their legs ripped open and bodies hauled from the docks and into the icy water. The other soldiers of General Thynnes proved their mettle in a moment’s time. Steel slid from scabbards and the men shouted cries of battle, either from their own courage, honor to their mothers or their gods. True warrior grit flowed as they stabbed at their enemies, driving the hairy beasts back into the water, in most cases dead or dismembered. Small swords split skulls like melons and brains soon made the dock slippery.
Thynnes himself beheaded one of the Voormi, causing the head to roll to Gorias’s boots. The Ingaevone thought the maw of the Voormi hideous, almost like a gorilla of the dark kingdoms, but with ivory hair and a mouth full of gigantic canine teeth.
One of the beasts made it to Gorias on the ground, crawling, for one of the soldiers sliced a muscle loose from the back of its calf. Never drawing a weapon, Gorias kicked the hairy man-beast in the face, making the Voormi to arch its back, putting it in line for Bekan to split its skull with his great axe. Brains colored carroty and gray spilled from either side of the wedged skull, accenting the ivory shoulders of the beast before it fell over.
As suddenly as the contemptible attack started, the creatures receded. The soldiers of Albion waved their weapons and hurled curses at their attackers, daring them to come forth again and get them. A couple pulled out quivers and shot into the waters, daring them to attack anew.
“By the rings of Cykranosh, I think I know where your settlement is,” said Gorias, eyes glassy as he gestured toward the mountains and the figure moving amongst the cottages.
About to make more mirth on the hulking Ingaevone, the crew of the drakkar fell silent as their eyes took in the sight only Gorias comprehended. In only a few moments, the shock spread to the entire crew.
The initial vision showed that this persona strode as a very big man. But on closer inspection, they all beheld that no settler walked in the abandoned place, nor was he just a creature of thuggish proportions. From the distance, it aped a form of a regular man for some time, but it only took a minute for the perspective to change. In reality, the figure loomed above the cottages, dropping heavy steps so hard the footfalls sounded out. Though they didn’t echo, every soldier on the dock and rower on the drakkar paused to stare where the sound originated.
“Damn,” was all Gorias could say at first.
The giant individual, in the silhouette of a man, faced them and started to step their way. With a stride several yards long, it reached the edge of the village and stood by the overgrown gardens. From there, the sunlight showed over its skin. When the scarlet hued flesh of the creature became clear to the men from the ship, the soldiers turned and started to retreat to the drakkar.
Only Gorias and Thynnes remained at the end of the dock, staring back at the figure that aimed its colossal head toward them.
Thynnes gasped, “Impossible to tell if this thing looks at us for real. It has no eyes, yet there’s something in the rounded spots that passes for eye sockets.”
Gorias said, “I doubt they could see anything.” After all, both could see that the eyeballs were men curled in the fetal position. “The entire damn thing is made of human beings.”
From the thudding feet, up its thick legs, to the top of its long head, the figure thrived with humanoid forms. All of them clung to the shape, naked, reddish in hue, and perfectly in sync to make the contour of a man.
It raised its right hand and pointed at them. Its fingers were men, each a man of some substance. No bond or lash fixed them in place, nothing material bound them that either foreigner could discern. Indistinct in their appearance, impossible to tell if they were from Transalpina or mercenary soldiers sent to see what happened to the settlers, they all were a niche in the amalgamation that was this being.
Thynnes started to back up when Bekan unleashed a shrilled scream, “It’s the god of the Gnoph-kehs! Let us begone before it’s too late.”
With a slap to Gorias’s back, Thynnes gave a grunt to certify his agreement. “By the gods, Gorias, let us be away from here. It’s clear to me now that no amount of men before could best that thing.”
Gorias started to back up. Though he thought an army of his Ingaevone brethren may give it a shot, his natural fear told him that this creature added to itself somehow. Every hair on his flesh writhed as if drawn to the giant.
As he retreated, never turning his back on the approaching wonder, he heard a voice he first thought to be Thynnes or one of the crew. When the giant stopped and leered at Gorias, scant yards from the tall grasses near the beach, he understood where the voice originated.
“In a world of the ordinary, come unto us, you who are extraordinary,” The smooth, calm tone spoke in Gorias’ head. “You are unlike them and should not be among those gnats. Come unto us, great warrior of the ages. Come be one with us and add your voice to the choir that is Aphoom-Zhah.”
Tremors of ice trickled down his muscled arms as Gorias continued to back away from the giant claiming to be the polar god of renown.
The voice spoke to Gorias again. “See all that we are and what you can be, little one. Be with us, be us and look down on all of humanity. You can be overlord of them and those who dwell in the bowels of Voormithadreth.”
A chorus of voices agreed with the first, then encouraged Gorias to join them.
Gorias shook his head, then turned and brought up the rear of the men piling back onto the drakkar. Already, the sailors had cast off lines, ready to push off. Gorias stood on the dock and looked down at the edge of the boat. Bekan almost reached out to him to pull him aboard, but the icy blue eyes of the Ingaevone drilled into him. Though armed with a twin headed steel axe, Bekan knew better than to lay hands on Gorias.
Thynnes said with nervous strength, “Whatever horror that is, truly, ‘Twas the fate of the settlers and the parties. Come, let us not add to its…appetite.”
Just as Gorias lifted his boot, he looked down the beach again. The image of Jenna on her horse staring at him set his heart to thudding more than the monster near to the sands. Her blue eyes practically gave him an accusing look. They looked from Gorias, to the boat and then to Gorias again.
Her voice, gentle and true to her manner, said to him, “You cannot reach me that way, Gorias.” She then stared back at the monster.
“Jenna calls me,” Gorias said and snatched the double headed axe from Bekan’s hands. The young soldier shouted, but never went after his weapon.
Gorias squared his shoulders to the creature beyond the sands, passing the axe to his left hand and unsheathed a sword on his back with his right.
Thynnes grabbed the edge of the boat and shouted, “The creature deceives you, Gorias! I can hear it in my head as well. Run and get on this ship before it is too late!”
Gorias stared at Jenna, Her face was softer, and now her voice full of tears as she whispered, “Come to me, Gorias.”
When Gorias started to run forward, the soldiers howled a shout of angst, then a roar of excitement at the warrior’s bravado. Surely, he rushed to his death, but they saluted his strength, no matter how mad.
Gorias heard Thynnes say something about bringing out long bows, but all he could see was the looming humanoid shape in front of him. Though educated by life, a Ingaevone lived on instinct. Gorias felt uneasy that a god created this creature. He wasn’t so certain an entity that fancied himself a deity didn’t do it, though. Natural instincts told him to flee.
“This thing must die,” he whispered.
Gorias understood he could never reach Jenna in the realms beyond death by running away. However, if he could try to kill this Aphoom-Zhah, and this thing slew him, they would be together before evening.
Though the creature stood on the sands, the marvel before Gorias started to wear on the Ingaevone. The thing even had genitals, he mused to himself, gripping his
weapons. Why did it make two men curl into the shape of testicles while two more swung free between its legs? Gorias thought, because whatever made this recalled having them.
Running forward, calling on the name of Wodan, Gorias threw the axe, end over end, toward the giant’s balls. If the thing possessed a groin structure, the axe buried itself in its upper thigh, near to this spot. The giant calling itself Aphoom-Zhah steadied itself, but never fell. Gorias ran forward and jumped at the right calf of the entity, inserting his sword’s blade deep into the supple flesh.
Gorias discovered that the soft tissue constructed of humanoid figures too elastic for his boots sank into the top of its foot. Though he experienced no trouble cutting a section of calf loose, he then saw the figures move toward him. As he turned to retreat, arms fell on him and Gorias felt pulled up into the flesh of Aphoom-Zhah.
A sensation like drowning in thick, bubbly water ran over Gorias. Though he’d drawn in air, he didn’t seem to want to breathe any longer. It was as if he felt the entire outline of the creature, and his mind grew afire, even if his limbs felt very cold. A slicker of liquid ran over his body and Gorias started to lose where he was in the mass of bodies.
A hundred of voices assailed his mind, some screaming, some weeping, but they all seemed to meld into one voice as the seconds went by. As his skin felt colder, Gorias picked up on thoughts, of the purpose for this monstrosity…that Aphoom-Zhah really resided far away…and had added strength to this being to free himself.
Yes, Aphoom-Zhah indeed dwelt a prison far north, below the sea, and he created this creature to liberate him from his torment. Gorias sensed the thing as incomplete, but wondered if his escape would soon be impossible. So comfortable and soothing he found his place of residence in the beast, he didn’t want to try and fight it any longer. It warmed him like a drunken stupor and the embrace of a million whores.
Though his own eyes grew blind, Gorias could see in his mind…or through the eyes of the beast, the lands around him…them. From out of the base of the mountain, not seen from the sea, clusters of the Voormi congregated, worshiping the creature form of Aphoom-Zhah. Several furry beasts with six legs started to emerge from tunnels in the mountain. Unsure of what they were, perhaps the Gnoph-kehs, Gorias then saw the village, empty of human life, much of it scattered to pieces and in a state of decay.
Blood and Steel: Legends of La Gaul, Volume 1 Page 7
