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

by Laszlo,Jeremy

  "Then what say you to our next step?" the old general questioned, his wiry eyebrows rising.

  "I suggest we quickly make a list of those deserving of the lowest positions we have available, and send for the rest of the council so that we can get started building a better future for Valdadore," Garret answered. Met by applause once more, all those attending gathered around the far end of the great table and began to toss names into the hat for those to be raised from their current stations to one of power.

  Garret had not been in service to the kingdom long enough to know the history of such people, but he did take interest in one particular debate.

  "What of Dillon Storm? He is a good man," one member of the council stated.

  "Doesn't he have five wives?" another asked.

  "Yes and thirty-one children at last count," the first man confirmed.

  "And you would suggest him for this position?" the second man argued.

  "Indeed, as I have said he is a good man, and name another with more to lose than he?" the first man replied.

  "I concede your point Sulvis, and more yet he has rescued four other men from marriage. A good man indeed!" the second man shouted in jest.

  Garret found the playful argument very amusing and could not wait to speak to such a man who could handle five wives and thirty-one children. Such a man would be a useful tactician, or good perhaps on budgeting the treasury, maybe even a coordinator for the armies of Valdadore. Before long, however, Garret was roused from his musings as a list had been compiled of decent, upright men and women who loved the kingdom and would find honor in serving it. Garret looked to all of his peers around him and found his own respect for them mirrored in their eyes. They saw him as an equal. Garret, the son of an innkeeper, whose twin some accused of murder, who had managed to join the valiant Knights of Valdadore, and now found himself upon the royal council of Valdadore. Garret wished his father and Seth could see him at this moment. He knew they would each be very proud of him and Garret did not plan to let anyone down.

  "Shall we send for the others then?" Garret asked.

  "Indeed, let’s see if we can lay to waste all plans of greed and all aspirations to power," the old general Garret now knew as Sulvis replied with a smirk.

  Messengers were sent to all corners of the city to fetch those who belonged to the council, as well as those that made their list and would be voted upon for election into the council. The meeting was set for sundown, giving Garret a couple hours to attend to other affairs, though he did not look forward to his next responsibility.

  * * * * *

  Borrik led his men through the immense forest at a gut-wrenching pace. The feline girls that led them some distance ahead never once came into sight and Borrik feared he had greatly underestimated their ability for speed. He picked up the girls' scent occasionally, though each time it was weaker than the time previous. The pair of girls were pulling farther ahead the longer the day progressed. The forest was much the same as Borrik remembered from a week ago when the king’s retinue had passed on its way to war. Though they followed no road, the game trails here within the forest were worn well enough to grant them fairly easy passage even in the limited light that filtered down through the canopy above. Several times on their hasty trek eastward Borrik caught scents of other things familiar to him. Twice on their run through the forest he had come upon the scent of goblins, and though faint, he could not help but to send a subliminal message to his pack to keep their eyes open for any stray raiding parties they might have missed the week prior. Several of his pack had noticed the scents as well, and were already on the lookout. But what had puzzled Borrik most was another scent he had noticed once while passing through a small clearing within the vast forest. They were quite a long distance now from the city of Raven's Hold, yet here deep in the forest Borrik had caught the scent of a human male. It was possible that there were those brave enough to venture this far into the forest to hunt the large deer or other game that thrived beneath the enormous trees. However, generally when hunting this deep in a forest, men would hunt in groups for at night, when the predators were active, there was safety in numbers. Borrik could not help but to ponder what might bring a single man this far into the woods, and sifting through the possibilities he ran through the forest mostly on blind instinct as if his body were finding the safest trail and footfalls, while his brain worked out more peculiar things. Thus it was, when realizing his mistake, Borrik heard both the snap of a twig and the sound of metal armor clanking as he rushed headlong into the very enemy he had warned his troops to look out for.

  Borrik smashed directly into a goblin soldier, sending the small green creature cart-wheeling head over feet through the trees. Digging his clawed toes into the soft soil beneath him, Borrik literally slid to a stop, crouching as he slowed, preparing himself to lunge. As he decelerated, and details of his surroundings became clearer, he realized he had rushed headlong into the center of a goblin party, and hearing his collision with their brethren, goblins closed in on him from all sides. Surrounded, Borrik used the collective conscious of the pack to summon his troops to his aid.

  As the nearest goblin rushed him, the pathetic creature hesitated mid-stride and faltered as his comrades directly behind him nearly trampled him. Many of the little green monsters were closing in, yet never having seen a magnificent beast such as Borrik, none dared to be the first to attack. Borrik watched as those who were the nearest of the scrawny little men slowed to appraise him. Then from somewhere beyond Borrik’s field of vision he heard a vicious snarl and the scream of a goblin that had been set upon by one of his wolf men. With the shriek, the small forms of green leathery skin and armor reacted and charged Borrik from all directions.

  Borrik had been a priest as a human, and as such his knowledge of battle had been limited to being beaten as a child. Since aligning himself with Lord Seth, however, he had been recreated into a massive, muscled beast of a man, designed for killing. Not only was his body an amazing new asset, but so too was his mind. As the alpha of his pack, all of the memories of those who submitted to him were his to access at will. Having nearly five hundred troops' memories at his disposal at the battle just two days ago had taught Borrik more about fighting than any other man alive. Through his telepathic abilities with his pack he had not only witnessed but also been a part of every single fight his soldiers had brought to their foes. In a day he had gleaned a few thousand years’ worth of battle training, and now he would put those lessons to use.

  Borrik sprang at his nearest enemy like a great bird. Crushing the slimy green creature beneath his massive weight, he spun upon the gore under his feet to face his next foe. That goblin lunged at him with his wicked blade in an attempt to pierce Borrik’s armor, but Borrik was both too fast and too smart for such crude tactics. Sidestepping at the last moment, Borrik let the goblin’s momentum carry it past him, and reaching out to his side as the vermin passed, he clutched the small creature’s face in the palm of his hand. Tugging with all his might while digging in his clawed fingers, Borrik effectively removed the creature’s head and a portion of his spine which he tossed at the next approaching goblin. By now the growls and clangs of steel came from all directions as Borrik’s pack located their foes.

  Having the head of one of his peers hit him full in the chest gave Borrik’s next opponent pause. Borrik used the creature’s uncertainty to his advantage, and rushing the goblin at full speed, he reached out with both arms as if to scoop the beast off the ground. Instead, however, as the poor critter panicked at the approach of the giant, armored wolf man, Borrik drove his clawed fingers into the sockets of both of the goblin’s shoulders, and wrenching his hands away from one another, ripped the arms off the small beast. Borrik then snatched up one of the dismembered arms and spun to face his next opponent. But this time Borrik did not face a single foe. As he turned, two of the leathery green beasts rushed him from directly ahead, while another came from the side. Borrik first feigned a lunge at the two who a
pproached from the front but instead whirled and charged the single opponent from the side. Using the dismembered arm of the previous goblin, Borrik knocked the blade from this one's hand as he ran straight past the singular creature. Then turning back the way he had come, as he had hoped, he saw the two other goblins following him.

  Borrik rushed into action once again. Digging his toes into the soft soil he dove at the recently disarmed goblin and snatched him up by his breastplate. Not even bothering to slow, Borrik continued towards the oncoming pair as if to rush them, using their comrade as a shield. However, when he felt the pair of opponents in range, Borrik twisted his torso. Slamming one foot into the earth he whirled upon the heel of his other foot, and using both his forward momentum and the centrifugal power of his spin, he released the goblin within his grasp and propelled it with bone-crushing force across the distance between him and the advancing foe. As his living missile crashed bodily into its brethren, Borrik listened as simultaneously the sounds of crashing steel and cracking bones erupted, followed by the gurgling screams of both felled goblins. Borrik did not even hesitate to witness the deed.

  As soon as he launched the goblin, he again charged at what would be his remaining foe. Just as his previous goblin ended his first and last flying lesson, Borrik crashed bodily into the last goblin that dared attack him. Though it would have been easy enough to rend the small beast limb from limb, Borrik felt that particular message would simply not be clear enough, and driving the beast backward he propelled the small man into the trunk of one of the massive trees with a bone-shattering thud. Ripping and tearing with his claws Borrik severed all of the leather bindings holding the goblin’s armor in place. As it fell away, Borrik clawed once more, slicing ribbons across the lighter green flesh of the beast's abdomen. Stepping back to watch the steaming entrails fall to pool at the creature’s feet, Borrik then reached down and grasped a handful of them. He began to run through the forest once more to assist his pack, dragging behind him the still-screaming form of the disemboweled goblin by its own intestines. Few goblins remained for Borrik to slay, but he did manage to strangle one with the intestines of the still living goblin which he had drug through the forest, before then stomping in the face of their owner. Then as a last show, Borrik used the goblin he strangled as a meat club and beat to death his final goblin of the day with the limp body of one of its own kind.

  Borrik enjoyed the act of killing. It was as if it was something he was born to do, and as such he tried to the best of his ability to make an art form out of it. It was not a revelation he would share with any of his human counterparts, however was common knowledge among his troops, and Borrik knew they weren’t going to tell anyone. The joy of killing made Borrik uncomfortable, though. As a priest he had sworn off all things pleasurable, and yet now he found pleasure in creating death. Killing as well was commonly forbidden to a priest, yet here he was, killing not only for necessity, but also for sport. The thought of such deeds would have once made Borrik retch, but now he was beginning to understand. Ishanya had told Borrik to swear his loyalty to Seth and to serve her through him. Ishanya had promised Borrik that Seth would reward him for his service and so he had. Ishanya knew all along that Seth would bestow these blessings upon him, and as such had arranged the meeting between the mortal men. Ishanya had simply wanted Borrik to reach his potential. Not as a priest, but as a warrior. Seth had made of Borrik an amazing warrior, both cunning and vicious, and for the first time Borrik realized that he was no longer a priest of Ishanya but a general to the Death Mage's army. He could not be both, so as Ishanya had sworn him to do, and as he would have done in any case at this point, Borrik steeled his resolve to be the most valuable asset in Seth’s arsenal. He would be both his lord’s faithful servant and most respected warrior. He would be protective yet merciless, honorable and horrible. Borrik swore to himself that he would become the fiercest warrior upon Thurr to best serve his master. Finally seeing his fate for what it was, Borrik released all his moral ties to Ishanya, and hearing all sounds of battle subside, gave the order to resume their trek eastward once again.

  Chapter 6

  Bliss and Blood

  In the dark, cold, solitary confines of their stone chamber, Sara sought to express her appreciation to Seth as passionately as she was able. Seth found himself both amused and concerned at Sara’s sudden advance. As she straddled his body kissing him first upon the lips, then working down his neck to his chest, Seth, though becoming aroused, could not help but to notice that Sara’s body barely pressed into him. It was a slight oddity as Seth realized that Sara lay upon him completely, yet her weight against his body was far less than it should have been. Although he did not want to worry or upset her, Seth couldn’t help but to start making a mental list of the alterations Sara’s body had been through. Amazing as they were, Seth was beginning to wonder at the implications of her multitude of physical alterations. Since altering the building blocks of her life in an effort to preserve it, Sara had become lighter, stronger, faster and more graceful. This combination of assets might not be as negative as Seth had previously thought, and so far as he could tell the woman he loved had not altered at all mentally. Comforted with his findings Seth decided to focus himself on the situation at hand and succumb to the pleasures Sara was so happily bestowing upon him.

  Reaching down to cup the back of her head in his hand, Seth pulled Sara’s lips back to his own as her hands sought to unbuckle his trousers. In the throes of passion Seth and Sara worked to undress one another without sparing their lips a moment's reprieve from each other’s flesh. Sweating and panting Sara carried out her blissful duty of thanking the man she loved for restoring her life to the utmost best of her ability. Just as Seth was brought to the most absolute peak of physical pleasure that Sara could bring him to however, something both unexpected and horrible happened to the young lovers.

  * * * * *

  Sara, caught up in the ecstasy of giving herself to the man she loved, concentrated solely on the pleasure that they brought one another. Engrossed in the act, Sara had not noticed the urge within her, fighting to be satiated. As Sara worked atop Seth to bring both of them to the height of their pleasure, Sara’s body, seemingly operating of its own accord, reacted by instinct. Grabbing each of Seth’s wrists in her hands, and using her newfound strength, she pressed down with all of her might driving his arms to the stone floor, effectively pinning him to the ground. Though she still worked towards their pleasure she found herself once again leaning down to kiss below his ear as she had felt inclined to do several times already. But this time Sara noticed something that before she had not. As her lips touched the flesh of his neck she could feel the racing of his pulse beneath the flesh. Not only could she feel it, Sara also could hear the pounding of Seth’s heart as if her head were pressed firmly to his chest. Most unnerving, though, and thinking herself mistaken, Sara believed she could smell the blood coursing through his veins. Try as she might to resist it as she continued to bury his neck in kisses, and caught up in the bliss they shared, new instincts took over for Sara, and she reacted, not of her own accord, to fulfill a need both horrid and foreign to her.

  * * * * *

  Just as Seth felt the release that brought with it the amazing gratification that only Sara could bring him, he was assaulted by both immense pain and intense pleasure. Seth noted immediately that simultaneously his power was being leached yet new power was being infused within him. Unable to release himself from Sara’s unimaginably strong grasp, Seth began to panic as he realized his predicament. Sara had indeed changed in an un-foretold way though the signs had been there, and sadly they had even been obvious. Sara had gained amazing new strength that belayed her size. She had retained the bat’s natural ability to heal as well. But most obvious had been the stubborn canine-like teeth that refused to relent to Seth’s many attempts at altering them. As a necessity to sustain the bats' lives, the enlarged teeth were essential for their ability to feed off the blood and life forces of th
eir prey. Having retained the teeth Seth should have foreseen sooner that this could have been a likely result of Sara’s alteration. However, it had not occurred to him before now that the woman he adored would attempt to feed off him. Seth continued to struggle with the small woman he loved, thrashing and kicking his body in an attempt to free himself. Light as she was, Seth’s attempts availed him nothing as Sara clung to his wrists with her hands, his torso with her legs and his neck with her teeth. Knowing not what else he could do without harming Sara, in a final attempt to get free Seth screamed, "Sara! Get off me!"

  * * * * *

  Sara suckled at the bleeding flesh of Seth’s torn neck awash in the ecstasy that his power brought within her. As she drank in his blood she too drank in the immense aura of his power, lending even more life to the already bloated aura that was her own. So lost in pleasure she was that Sara did not have a conscious thought for many moments as instinct drove her body to continue feeding until satiated. As her teeth bit deep into his flesh Sara could actually feel his hot pulsing blood flowing through the hollow tubules inside her sharp canine teeth. Each beat of his heart pumped more blood and more power directly into Sara’s bloodstream, and with it came pleasure unlike anything Sara had ever known before. She clung to Seth’s body even as he began to thrash and kick. It was his voice that helped Sara to escape the pleasurable intoxication that drove her to continue sucking the very life from his flesh. As Seth screamed her name, Sara snapped back into conscious control over herself. As realization struck her of what she had done, she released Seth. Doubling over while turning to the side, Sara began to vomit as her body began to shake and tears began to stream from her eyes.