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

by Laszlo,Jeremy

  Appraising his work, he was happy with the device called a ‘sled’ by the trolls in the common tongue. Sitting upon the device he ate the last strip of dried meat he had brought with him, realizing he would need to find enough food for both his bodies on the return trip home. It was well on into morning when he shifted into the troll king just long enough to lay upon the sled, before shifting back to resume his trek down the mountain.

  Pulling upon the long length of cord attached to the front of the sled, Gnak put his head and one arm through the loop, and began forward down the path. Leaning into his movements, he was surprised when the sled began to move behind him with relative ease.

  Onward and downward Gnak followed the game trails for the entire day without incident. As evening came, he carried his spear in hopes of crossing paths with a hare or stag. When the sky began to darken above, however, he realized he was not the only one hunting in the area as a howl sounded from somewhere behind him. If he had not seen any game thus far, he certainly wouldn’t now.

  Moving down the trail at a quickened pace, his hunt ruined, he was surprised when another howl sounded to his right and then another to the left just moments later. Gnak stopped in his tracks. It was already too late to escape.

  From seemingly all directions, glowing eyes peered out at him from the shadows at the dire wolves prowled nearer. Slowly they closed in upon him, and turning cautiously, Gnak counted their number. It was a small pack, numbering only half a dozen. He knew he could lay them all out with little more than a thought by simply taking their will, but as he reached out to end the beasts, something more foul was upon him.

  Springing from the darkness, a creature that was neither animal nor beast collided with Gnak, Driving him down to the ground. Seemingly half wolf and half human, the muscular thing snapped at him ferociously as it clawed and scratched trying to get a better hold upon him. Kicking out, he drove the creature away and crawled to his feet once more. He recognized the beast from the battle with the humans. It was one of the black wizard’s soldiers.

  Though he had no idea what the beast was doing on the mountain, Gnak raised his spear and took aim as teeth tore into his shoulder, and sharp claws dug into his back. Spinning from the blow, Gnak witnessed as three of the dire wolves sprang upon the body of the troll king, biting and tearing viciously. Raising his hand to summon their power, his head wrenched back as the inhuman creature grabbed at him from behind. He went down with both attackers upon him. Entangled with his flesh being torn from him, there was nothing Gnak could do. He shifted.

  Rising from the sled, the troll king ripped the fur-covered beasts from his thick flesh and flung them with all his ancient might as they crashed into the trunks of trees and rocky outcroppings, with yelps and barks of pain. Turning, he reached out his hand to summon the wills of those attackers upon his orkin body. With no effort the wills of all three remaining dire wolves flowed to him, each tearing away from a wolf, leaving it inanimate, but the will of the unholy beast remained. Gnak tried again.

  For unknown reason, the wolf man’s will was beyond his ability, and watching as it savagely bit into the arm of the frozen orc body, Gnak rose from his litter as quickly as his old body would carry him, and with two great strides he kicked out with one massive leg and listened as the sickening snap of bones followed.

  Through the air the assailant flew, twisting and turning only to land upon its feet as if its injury mattered not at all. Growling and snapping, it raced towards him, and Gnak knew this body would not be fast enough to fight the foe. Raising his hand and opening it wide, he shifted again.

  Pain from his torn shoulder and arm shot through him, but Gnak could not delay. Snatching up his fallen spear, he rolled forward into the oncoming beast and thrusting with all his might he drove the shaft up and into the gut of the creature as it passed. With the butt of his spear digging into the rocky ground, the beast rose up upon the shaft, such was his momentum, and flung forward, it sailed towards the hand of the awaiting troll. Gnak shifted.

  Clamping his massive hand closed, he looked down as the beast in his grasp snarled and snapped at him, trying to claw at his thick flesh with its fingers. Squeezing, Gnak watched as the beast silenced its protests before its neck snapped. With its head lolling to the side at an odd angle, Gnak dropped the creature and watched it crumple into a pile of fur upon the ground. It was an unnatural beast. Of that he was certain. And it seemed now that his power was limited to the dominion of natural beasts.

  Checking his wounds, Gnak found the troll king’s body to be nearly free from injury. So thick was his flesh that the wolven teeth and claws had barely managed to do more than scratch him in several places. Shifting again, Gnak found his orc body to be in much worse condition. With bite and claw wounds all down his arm and shoulder, he could only feel the seeping wounds upon his back. Pain arose from nearly his whole left side.

  Shifting again, Gnak collected what was left of the shaman’s salve and using the troll king’s body he applied it sparingly to those wounds that appeared to be the worst of the damage upon his orc body. Though they now had enough food for the trip, Gnak wondered if his wounds would fester, and become infected as they had done in the past. His orc body had been through a lot in the last few months.

  Deciding that he should let the body rest so that it might heal better, he remained in the troll king and placed his orc body upon the sled. Collecting two of the wolves, he quickly gutted and skinned them before building a fire. As the sun rose into the sky, Gnak roasted a pair of the giant wolves upon a spit and listened as their fat dripped from their bones into the waiting fire below.

  In his ancient body he too remained near the flames, letting his body absorb the heat. If he wanted to use this body, he needed to speed the metabolism to a reasonable level so he could move more quickly. But speeding the inner workings of his body had setbacks as well. In order to sustain the quick movement and his health, he would be forced to eat frequently. He tossed two more of the wolves directly into the fire and watched as their fur burned away. After an hour he removed the charred carcasses from the fire and began tearing blackened hunks of their flesh away with his teeth.

  Though he would have thought the meal disgusting just days ago, in this body he found it suitable, and even enjoyed biting through the gut sack of one of the beasts as its hot juices flowed into his mouth. Chomping through his meal, he kicked the last two remaining carcasses into the fire and let them char as the first two continued to roast above the fire.

  It was more than two hours later, and nearly halfway through the night when he finished his meal. His stomach stuffed to capacity, the troll king dropped the half of the wolf he hadn’t eaten, and rose to gather his supplies. Piling the charred and roasted meat atop the litter with his orkin body, he lashed it into place and grabbed up the cord to begin pulling the sled down the mountain.

  Though his eyes in this body were not as suited to darkness as were his own, he managed to pick out the trail well enough, and used his familiarity with the mountain to guide him. When the sun rose he picked up his pace further, and found that with circumventing both the cliff face and the crater, he would likely reach the base of the mountains the very next day.

  With the sun occasionally on his face between the evergreen boughs of those trees that covered the mountainside, Gnak strolled easily downhill, sifting through the memories of the king of trolls. He discovered that though they were big in stature, their race as a whole was relatively small, with fewer than five thousand of their kind.

  Able to recall memories from centuries ago, Gnak was able to witness the king’s run-ins with races that he had never even heard of. One such race had the thick legs of beasts but a human-like torso. Its head was that of an animal as well, with great bent horns that jutted out from each side of its head. Another race was of small yellow men, similar in size to that of the goblins. Though they closely resembled the humans, the smaller race was remembered by the troll king for their knowledge of mechanical items
. Knowledge was the key. Gnak had found a useful addiction.

  Just as he had predicted, Gnak reached the base of the mountains the very next day and, setting out across the softer surface below, he trekked through the desert sand towards the camp of his Gathos clan. With each passing day he shifted several times, but primarily used the troll for travel as his orcish arm grew worse by the day. At first it just swelled, but then a fever set in and looking back, Gnak could see sweat on his other face’s brow. Just as he had feared, infection had set in.

  His fourth day in the sand brought the first signs of others of his kind. Apparently reaching the edge of the lands where his clan now patrolled, he crossed tracks of both orcs and goblins regularly.

  Cresting a small dune, a flash of light in the distance caught his attention and squinting his deep-set troll eyes. Gnak spotted an orcish patrol less than a mile from him. If he could see them, then certainly they had spotted him as well. Dropping the leash to the sled, Gnak turned to prepare for the orcs who would surely come, but quickly raised his hands in a non-threatening manner before he shifted bodies.

  Weak and nauseated, Gnak rose to a seated position as spears bristled all around him towards the troll body he had just abandoned. So busy had he been looking forward, that he had never thought to look behind to see if his own trail had been picked up. Gnak smiled. His race was clever, if nothing else.

  Turning to face those who served him, Gnak pushed through the pain and summoned his voice.

  “Gathos no hurt troll. No fight. Is troll king. Troll king Gnak ally,” he managed, and as sweat poured down his face he looked as their heads nodded in understanding.

  “Lead us back camp,” he ordered. “Send runner. Bring shaman.”

  Collapsing back to the sled, his vision went black as unconsciousness threatened to take him. Before it could, however, Gnak shifted back to the troll king.

  Lowering his arms, the king of trolls took up the cord to the sled once more and began trudging through the sand. To either side of him orc soldiers guided him towards his camp as the fastest among their group disappeared beyond the dunes ahead.

  Watching the man vanish into the ruddy golden sands beyond, Gnak reveled in the sensation of the hot sun on his skin. It was only an hour before a small procession appeared atop a dune in the distance, and Gnak watched through troll eyes as the procession noted him and his envoy and began racing towards them. It was a dangerous game he was playing, not wanting any to know of his secret, and as such, he sat down as if to rest his old arthritic joints, and turned to watch as the scene played out before him.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Cresting the dune, the false shaman sprinted out to meet Gnak’s fallen body and even before reaching the side of the injured chief the supposed orc began to pray. With head tilted towards the heavens, the shaman stumbled up the last rise and fell to his knees beside the litter that bore the leader of his clan.

  Watching on, the troll king witnessed as the shaman placed his hands upon the fallen orc as he burst into light that encompassed his whole body. Those orcs that now served as the chief’s envoy shared grunts of surprise, and watched on in awe.

  With his near vantage, Gnak watched as pus seeped from scabbed wounds as if to escape the healer’s power, before steam rose up from others. Where it had become thick and clotted over the previous days, blood began to seep once again as flesh and muscle were mended. Here and there, bits of dirt and grit rose up through the skin, forming a small lump before breaking free and falling to the ground, leaving already mended flesh in their wake.

  Within minutes the most minor of his wounds were erased completely, as the shaman now worked upon those larger wounds from both the wolves and the white beast that attacked him in the mists of the mountain crater.

  As if it were alive, the flesh on his chest began to undulate and stretch, as it knitted back together like tiny fingers reaching out from all sides of the wound in search of one another. Closing, the long gashes seemed to scar before they vanished in entirety. It was less than an hour from the arrival of the shaman when he sat back upon his legs, his inner light fading, before he collapsed to the sand with a crooked grin upon his face. Gnak needed to act fast.

  Rising as quickly as he was able, the troll king gathered up the fallen shaman and laid him in the litter with the orc chief. Then, turning back to the direction they traveled, he made his intentions clear.

  “I’ll pull them both. Show me the way.”

  Though he could only imagine what they were thinking, hearing a troll speak their own language, he was not disappointed by their unspoken reply. Without hesitation the orcs sprang into action, marching forward in two columns, each upon an opposite side of the chief they served, with occasional nervous glances in the direction of the troll. Trekking further into the desert sands, the dunes grew higher and higher with deeper valleys in between. Though it was a struggle pulling the litter atop each dune, it was far more dangerous traversing back down the other side. Seeing his dilemma, the orcs in his retinue began helping both to push up one side of a dune, and then grasping the sled to slow it down the other. It was slow going, but topping a final rise, Gnak witnessed the bloated vision that was his camp after three hours of relentlessly steep dunes.

  Below, carved out among the dunes, was a great valley filled with tents. From his perspective it appeared a great colony of insects had been disturbed, as it seemed that an unending mass of writhing bodies moved about the camp leaving no path between the structures uncovered. Many had come and joined with his camp. He dared not even guess how many, but it had easily doubled in size.

  Not even realizing he had paused, Gnak shook his thick head and began again, pulling the sled down the face of the dune to the edge of camp. So well did he play his role, that he even let the entourage with him guide him to his own tent in the central ring of the camp. Once there, captains watched on, as did the goblin king, as Gnak was again forced to put on a show for those he commanded.

  Moving to remove his orc body from the sled, several orc captains intervened, putting their bodies between the troll king and the inanimate body of their chief.

  “Gnak said that I was to watch over him,” he said through the troll king’s lips, creating the excuse quickly.

  “No. We guard. You no go,” one of the orcs said.

  “I suggest you ask him,” Gnak said, pointing at his orcish body before he shifted.

  “Let troll king take me and shaman into tent. Guard outside. Is good,” Gnak’s orc body said without even opening his eye.

  Shifting again, Gnak resumed the body of the troll king and shook his head at the orcs around him.

  “See? Gnak and I are allies. I will see that he is rested.”

  Stepping aside for him, the troll king grinned at the orcs as he gathered up the body of the chief and carried him into the tent. Without warning, the flap burst open behind him and spinning, he was glad to see it was just his captains bringing in the shaman as well. Once his and the shaman’s bodies were situated, Gnak waved away the captains and watched the tent flaps close behind them before he finally sighed in relief. At least that part was over.

  With his orc body healed, Gnak lay the troll chief down to feign sleep, and shifted. Rising from the ground, not only did he feel rested, but once again he felt healthy and strong. Not daring to leave the shaman to awaken in the tent with the troll king, Gnak approached the unconscious visage of an orc. With several quick kicks to the ribs he roused the man, and stood looking down upon him.

  “Get up, Kukta. Gnak need speak.”

  “Yes, chief. It is good to see you too,” said the would-be shaman as he struggled into a seated position, rubbing his ribs.

  Watching him rise, Gnak noticed him squinting before he reached up to rub at his temples. Perhaps he should have let the man rest a while longer. Too bad. Gnak needed information.

  “What happened in camp while Gnak gone?” Gnak asked.

  “It’s really kind of exciting, Gnak. Many goblin kings ha
ve come to join us, and rumor has it that even more are coming.”

  “Have no fights, no problems?”

  “Well, to be honest, there have not been any fights, but two of the new kings of goblins that have arrived have been killed. Your little green friend now claims the peoples from both goblin kingdoms that lost their ruler. That has caused some contention among the other goblin kings.”

  “Goblin king is greedy. Is what drives him. Makes him strong. Is also biggest weakness. Gnak will see about killed goblins.”

  “You think he killed them?”

  “Yes. Goblin king want more power. Try to steal more power when Gnak go see trolls.”

  “And you brought one back with you,” the shaman said, nodding towards the resting king of trolls.

  “Yes, is troll king. Trolls join Gathos.”

  “That is good news for your cause, chief. I am glad you have managed so much with so few deaths.”

  “Yes, is good. Now Kukta go. Gnak have much to do,” he said, pulling the other man to his feet and ushering him towards the front of the tent.

  As the false shaman departed, Gnak pulled the flap of his tent closed. He needed time to think.

  It was hours later as darkness fell upon the camp, when the orc chief emerged from his tent. The camp was unusually loud as goblins seemed to pour from the tents, laughing and gesturing wildly as Gnak passed. Here and there they danced to odd tunes, covering even vertical surfaces as they clung to any vacant spot they were able.