The Great Hearts II: A Game of Gods

by David Oliver

  A black flash and screams began. I chanced a quick glance. Two of the archers were simply gone; smoking patches of earth where they had stood. Either the thunderheads weren’t enough or the warlock was adapting to the disorientation. I looked back at the reaver and it had begun to move, crawling on its three limbs almost as fast as it had been moving up the slope on two feet.

  Another blast from Asp and this time the beast jumped, throwing itself into the air in a frightening display of raw power and leaving the energy to slice into the ground beneath it. I cursed; things were about to get more difficult.

  Thankfully we had one more trick up our sleeve.

  Behind the thyrkan warlock and commander rose an armour-clad figure. It had been risky, attempting to predict where the landslide would cover, but it had worked, leaving the thyrkan thinking that there would be no attack from the rear.

  How wrong they were.

  Cassius took one step. Two. On his third he broke into a jog, by his eighth he was in full sprint, head bowed low, Oathbreaker over one shoulder. Something alerted the thyrkan commander at the last second and he spun, raising two blades only to be sent flying as Cassius spun, the great sword of Oathbreaker slicing clean through the remaining warlock before hammering into the commander.

  The reaver turned almost in mid-air and began clawing its way back to the commander. Like I said before; not the wisest of creatures. I sent two strokes of Asp after it, the first severing its spine just above its hips, the second opening it from shoulder to waist. If that hadn’t killed it then the bubbling black acid would finish it off. I sheathed Asp and turned to watch the show.

  The thyrkan commander was incredible. Its swordplay was intricate and blindingly quick, the beast moved light on its feet and against any normal swordsman it would have left them in pieces. Fortunately for us, Cassius was not remotely normal.

  The enhancements and transformation that the Emperor had put him through had done nothing to remove his uncanny skill with the sword and if anything his size and power had made him even faster. Blow after blow rained down on the thyrkan, each impact sending the creature staggering and keeping it on the defensive. It spun and cut, the blade scratching along the thick plate but not penetrating and an armoured boot caught it in the chest, audibly crunching bone and causing the Scourge troops to wince. Two steps to catch up as the thyrkan began to rise and another kick to drive it back down to the ground. The thyrkan held its blades in the air to block as it tried to shift the weight off its body but the power of Cassius would not be denied, his foot was as immovable as a mountain. The first strike buckled the thyrkan’s arms, sending its own blades dangerously close to its face. The second blow forced the blades against its own body, the thyrkan letting out a roar of inept anger as it watched Cassius wind up for another blow. The third strike cleaved right through the creature’s paltry guard, embedding Oathbreaker deep within its torso along with both of its swords. A brief gurgling cough and then silence.

  Issan and the Scourge troops let out whoops of joy, hugging and celebrating at the victory. With the loss of only two people they had inflicted a blow on the thyrkan that would be felt throughout the region. Perhaps the Enemy would allow them that victory or perhaps these broken lands would soon rumble with the thunder of thyrkan armies. Either way I didn’t intend to be there.

  I clasped a hand onto Issan’s shoulder and gave him a nod before walking down to join Cassius. A quick search of the corpses revealed little of use and so we set our faces north. If the red eyed demon was still alive we would find it.

  Find it and kill it.

  Chapter 21

  Home

  The trip back was a long one. The eagle had arrived a good two days before the carriage, the driver of which knew nothing about our mission and our activities, just hired from a staging output out past the west of Forgoth to pick up a group of Andurran teenagers. A strange enough request perhaps, but the purse of gold he doubtless received for the journey more than made him happy to do such a strange thing. Our goodbyes with Jadira and the friends we had made within the fort were long and heartfelt. There were many requests for us to come and visit, promises of mead to be shared and Hrudan to rout. Jadira gave us all hugs and newly worked leather vambraces - each of them hardened to deflect all but the most determined cutting edge but flexible enough to make wearing them not a chore. She shook off our remarks of thanks stating that if she had the time the gifts that we had received would have been much more valuable. As it was she swore that she would be sending a missive to the empire at the first available opportunity to receive trainers of our calibre to winter with them in order to improve the Meredothian fighting skills. I had half a mind to ask how much she would be paying for such a person, but I didn’t doubt that the Emperor would offer our services cheaply if it kept the Hrudan threat from his borders. Once all the rounds had been made we climbed into the carriage and set off rumbling down the road.

  And rumbled.

  ...And rumbled.

  Carriages, in case you didn’t know this already, are intensely boring. At first you climb in and marvel at the wooden construction, gasp at the train of horses and articulate just how much more dignified it is than riding. About an hour later you take all that back once the potholes have worked their way through your buttocks and into your lower spine. Granted once we entered the Empire proper the roads were better paved, courtesy of the military needing efficient transportation systems, but by that point we were so broken and weary of travel that we would have killed for horses or even to walk. Five weeks it took us to make the journey. Five weeks of mind-numbing boredom and relentless motion. I didn’t know how we were brought to the heartland in the first place - we could have been drugged for weeks or perhaps some kind of seraph related travel magic was used - but why the same method couldn’t be used to bring us back was an oft heated topic during the long, long ride. During all that time we perhaps surprisingly and somewhat disappointingly only had one bandit attempt on the carriage and they were so laughably unorganised as to barely be worth mentioning. The only upside that I will grudgingly give to a carriage is the protection from the elements, but staying dry is not worth the broken back. Trust me on that.

  To be entirely honest I shouldn’t be the one to complain. I only had to ride in the carriage for three weeks, not five. Towards the end of the third week my bond with Seya that had been slowly getting stronger as the distance between us decreased rocketed in strength. A day later I was able to get fleeting thoughts through, but she didn’t respond to my urging other than to give me a semblance of pride at her overwhelming speed. Not two days later she hurtled out of the woods onto the trail, causing the horses to panic and the driver to scream in terror. Her laughter filled my mind and an amused purr that we had all missed terribly and brought Cassius and myself to tears filled our chests. Seya was back.

  Still saying nothing about the past months she cavorted, pounced and purred her way through the first joyful reunion and only several hours later, once I had taken her for a run out of sight of the still terrified horses and leaving the others to suffer the indignity of the carriage did she begin to speak.

  “Drugged?!” I burst out angrily, kicking at an offensive looking bush.

  That is what it appears happened, Seya replied softly. I cannot remember any periods of relative lucidity over what seems to have been a considerable period of time. If what you tell me is accurate and this is one of the Academy’s examinations then the most logical explanation is that they did not want me coming with you to upset the imbalance of power. After all, with me you would have solved these problems before winter had closed in. She said it so matter-of-factly that I almost agreed with her before I realised it. Gods I had missed her prideful, beautiful face! My anger at her treatment went from explosive fire to flickering candle in an instant and with the emotion of the last few months sweeping up on me I threw my arms around her neck, pressed my face into the side of her soft fur and cried and cried...and cried.

  Sh
e let me loose all the sorrow, pain and fear that I had borne throughout this harsh winter. She made no comment and just let her presence soothe me. Finally, after an interminable period of time my tears dried and I straightened up, the weight on my shoulders considerably lessened.

  “Thank you,” I said, wiping my eyes.

  She leant forward, large eyes gazing intently into mine and then a thick dry tongue sandpapered my face. A chuckle thrummed through her that turned into an internal sigh. Oh little one, I can tell that this has been a hard journey. Sit and tell me your story and I will tell you mine.

  And so I did. I sat, curled into my partner’s chest and talked about everything that had happened since finding Korthan’s body, the torture, the trolls, the spiders and the Hrudan. When I finally finished she nuzzled my head like a new-born.

  It is a long tale and one that speaks of great bravery and bigger foolishness. You took many risks Calidan. You need to learn to protect yourself better - I thought I taught you better than that. She shook off my attempts at a response, stopping me from talking by simply pressing her tongue against my face. Disgusting. Laughing at my feeble struggles to get free she continued, one thing I can confirm is that Korthan is not dead, which lends a lot of credence to this all being part of your fourth-year exam.

  I finally broke free, “Not dead?!” I cried happily. “You sure?”

  He was the first person I saw when I woke. Considering your story I believe the wily old fox might have done that on purpose so that you would know for sure that what you saw was not real.

  “That bastard,” I murmured. “He must have known that the first thing you would do would be to come to me, so he showed himself to confirm that all was well and we didn’t come back to the Academy prepared for the worst.” I stopped for a moment and then snorted in frustration. “And he probably woke you now when we are still some time away so that we had time to come to terms with what the Academy has done and not knock down the doors in fury.”

  Seya yawned, exposing her arm length canines. A wise move on his part. Like I said, a wily old fox.

  After an hour of lounging in the sun, enjoying the dappled sunlight like old times, we began chasing down the carriage. It didn’t take us long, despite the carriage being drawn by four horses the driver maintained a consistently slow pace so as to save his wheels, but not the passengers, the trauma of the roads. With the wind blowing towards us it was a simple matter for Seya to prowl up behind the carriage and for me to jump in without alerting the horses or driver. The others reacted much the same as me to Seya’s revelations, a mixture of rage at the horrors that they had put us through combined with relief that Korthan was alive and the confirmations that gave regarding the torture that had taken place. It probably says something about the Academy itself and the type of people it recruited that we didn’t immediately throw our towels in the proverbial ring - though I very much doubt that we could have if we had wanted to. Whether we knew that we couldn’t receive the training we wanted anywhere else or that we had just got to that level of indoctrination where we could and would suggest seemingly valid reasons for the Academy’s actions, or knowing what we knew about Imperators we deemed it a logical approach and would do the same things in our instructor’s shoes I do not know, but we returned to the Academy with our heads held high, the rage reduced to simmering embers, just as the staff had no doubt intended.

  ✽✽✽

  The Emperor

  The portal shimmered into life and the Emperor stepped back to make room for the traveller. When after a few moments nothing came through he raised an irritated eyebrow and sighed before sticking his arm into the portal and beginning to pull. With barely any sign of effort on his face he slowly stepped backward, revealing a heavily muscled blue skinned arm clutching his own and frantically scrabbling. Another step and the torso appeared, a third and the face of the blue skinned troll was revealed, its eyes wild and frightened with the Emperor’s hand clenched tight around its throat. Claws that had rendered legion of spiders bounced off the Emperor’s unarmoured skin, muscles that had fended off blows from the mightiest of mutated beasts proved ineffective against the Emperor’s inexorable strength. With a long-suffering sigh he threw the troll into a nearby cage before locking the door.

  “How many times do we have to go over this?” he said softly. “You are a tool. My tool. I expect you to come when I call. Otherwise I will stop offering you carrot and resort to stick.”

  The eyes of the troll widened even further and a frightened hooting noise rumbled out of its throat as it shook its head frantically.

  “Ah, you remember the stick. Good. Don’t test my patience again.”

  Frantic nodding.

  The Emperor gave the troll a considering gaze. “Overall, you performed within my expectations,” he rumbled. “I predicted a forty percent chance that you would turn on your one-time friends so congratulations on thinking that approach through. One doesn’t keep a tool that can’t be trusted.” His expression turned thoughtful as he examined the many healed scars on the troll’s body. “Still looks like you could do with some improvements. Your battle skills leave a lot to be desired.”

  The troll went wild, shivers wracking its body as it tried to get as far away from the Emperor as possible, flinging itself against the bars in an attempt to escape and causing denizens of further cages to roar and moan in response.

  “Now, now, don’t worry. It won’t be today. You did well enough to earn a little rest,” the Emperor said, seemingly completely unconcerned with the troll’s response, his voice immediately silencing the occupants of the other cages. “The better you do then the less changes we have to make, so work hard.”

  Turning, the Emperor began to walk away from the row of cages, pausing only to remove the light with a flicker of will.

  “Rest well and I’ll see you again soon...

  ...Kirok.”

  ✽✽✽

  “Welcome back my boy.”

  “Korthan,” I intoned calmly, trying to hide the rush of happiness I felt at seeing his face. “The last time I saw you, you were dead. Glad to see that you’re back to being only nearly so.”

  My old mentor laughed, a dry, rasping chuckle from an ancient throat. “I’ll only die when you least expect it, just to make sure that it impacts you the most.” He stepped forward and held his arms out wide. “Good to see you lad.”

  I hesitated for a moment and then my resolve crumbled. Stepping forward I gave him a hug, cementing him as not a creation of my mind but a physical, living person.

  “Good to see you too you old fart,” I mumbled, trying to hide the tears that glistened in the corners of my eyes.

  The return to the Academy had been strangely understated, Kane had just stood at the entrance to the gates when the carriage dropped us off and beckoned us in. ‘Well done,’ he had said gruffly, brushing off questions with a wave of his hand. ‘Head to the Decompression Chambers, clean up, get a good meal and relax. I’ll see you for a debrief tomorrow.’ And that was that. So obviously I completely ignored his advice and immediately headed to Korthan’s library where he had been seemingly awaiting my arrival, two whiskies poured out next to the deep-set armchairs that he preferred to recline in. Once we had settled in to chat, he in his comfortable robes and me still in my travel-stained furs and skins and exchanged enough carefully neutral pleasantries he finally took a deep taste of his drink before waving a hand.

  “Ok, enough time wasting. Ask your questions and let an old man sleep.”

  I couldn’t help but grin. I had missed the cranky old bastard terribly. I swirled the whisky around in my glass for a long moment, enjoying the touch of annoyance in the old man’s face as I didn’t immediately answer. After I had taken a sip of the delightful fluid I put the glass down carefully and looked him in the eyes.

  “How did you do it?”

  He raised an eyebrow. “That’s it? No ‘why’ or tears or anger?”

  “The anger is there,” I assured him, “the
tears were there too. As for the ‘why?’ I’m pretty certain I can answer that myself. The Academy needs to know that its Imperators can handle themselves and that they aren’t going to break at the first sign of danger.” I gazed thoughtfully into the glass, “Though whether they are now more predisposed to being brittle rather than tempered remains to be seen.”

  Korthan heaved out a long sigh. “Sounds about right. And if you have any better ideas for testing the mettle of our Imps then I’m sure that Kane will avidly discuss them with you tomorrow. So,” an eager gleam flared in his eye, “let's discuss the much more interesting topic of how I did it. Theories?”

  “Seraph,” I answered. “Some kind of seraph attack that rendered me incapacitated and then transported us to the heartland…a portal?”

  Korthan grinned. “Not everything is done with seraph young one, though it easily could have been. You’re right on the portal front; there aren’t too many ways to get a bunch of unconscious people that much distance without keeping them drugged for weeks. We thought it a better use of time to combine enough seraph to fuel a portal than invest the resources to get you up there. But knocking you out and what you saw? Nothing but plain old poison and method acting! Well,” he clarified, “method acting and poison that simulates death. Surprisingly useful stuff that. More than you might expect.”

  Poison and portals. He made it sound so simple.

  “Why the charade?” I asked after digesting his words. “What was the point?”

  He raised an eyebrow. “I would have thought that straightforward. Despair. Horror. Heartache. All things that an Imperator is going to experience throughout their careers. Experiencing the loss of a comrade puts you in a frame of mind that little else can replicate, a frame of mind that – and have no doubt about this Calidan – you will experience for real in the future. How you act when your brain is dealing with that information, how you perform under such overwhelming sorrow, and how you operate when bad things are happening to you at the same time, that is what we need to find out.” He gazed thoughtfully at me and then his expression softened. “It is a hard life we lead boy and the Academy’s job is to push you to the point of breaking and beyond then forge what comes out the other side into a tool for the Emperor to wield. It isn’t pretty, it isn’t nice. But it works…for the most part.”