The God Warriors

by Sean Liebling

  "We'll wait here until it's over. Let me see if I can find some water," he said as he started to turn away, only to be stopped by Keepa's hand on his forearm.

  "Dru, wait, your face!," she exclaimed, pulling him closer in the gloom of the deep forest and gazing upward. Behind her, the children huddled together, crying softly for their parents.

  "What about i?, Am I wounded?" he asked.

  "No, Dru Rausis. You bear a god mark," she breathed in a reverent voice. She reached up to touch his cheek just below his eye. He knew whose mark would be there for he could see it shining in her eyes.

  "Let me guess. Dionysus," he said. She nodded slowly. He didn't have to look to know that a new tattoo had replaced his birth one of Jordache. He was quite sure he now sported three circles interconnected by straight lines, shaped like a V.

  "And it glows silver, Dru."

  You made me a champion?

  [I told you I did.]

  I was a bit busy when you were talking. Something about hundreds of bloodthirsty Illians trying to kill me and the children.

  [It was only a dozen.]

  "You're talking to him, the god right now aren't you?" Keepa asked in wonder. "Your new tattoo is glowing in bursts like its speaking.

  "Yeah," he responded.

  How is the village? Can you answer that?

  [Of course, I can. Your girl will be upset because there are few left alive there. Her parents were some of the first put to the sword.]

  Damn you, Dionysus. Why did you tell the Illians to attack us?

  [I did not tell them to do anything; I merely agreed with a course of action when their leader was considering it.]

  Semantics.

  [Well, quit complaining, Dru. You're now my champion, so the first order of business is to get drunk, take the girl as yours, and sell the children to pay for passage to another land.]

  Has anyone ever told you that you are not right in the head?

  [Often, but then again, I'm a god of Chaos.]

  Well, I'm not taking the girl and selling the kids. I'm going to protect them as long as I can. How long does this champion thing last, anyways? Dru heard a long sigh at his question, and the god responded, seemingly reluctantly.

  [Probably forever. I've never done it before, and it seems to be permanent. The cost in energy was tremendous. A lot more than I anticipated as I was only trying to make you stronger. Then I saw the tattoo appear, and I knew what happened. I may have to ask around to figure it out.]

  What? You don't know?

  [I told you, I have never done this before. Never had the desire before, but you needed help, and I wanted you to spend time with your girl before you stole wedding wine. Now you have the chance to take advantage of it. I feel weak. Hide here with your new family, I must rest for a bit,] and with that, the god was out of his thoughts. Dru shook his head then settled the others within the hut to wait out the Illians, while standing guard at the entrance, his hammer ready.

  ~Ares and Hera~

  [If it were possible to get a headache, I would have a splitting one right now,] Ares complained.

  [That caught me by surprise also. I have no idea what Dionysus was thinking, but I suspect he was as surprised as we were,] Hera responded.

  [Two champions on one world at the same time. To your knowledge, has that ever happened before, Mother?]

  [No.]

  [Have you ever heard of or seen a champion of a Chaos god?]

  [No.]

  [I think I truly am getting a headache now,] grumbled Ares.

  [Do not feel bad, my son. I have a feeling that events are out of our control.]

  Ares did not respond to that, he did not know how to.

  ~Neven~

  Neven stood tall and strong as the bulwark between their people and the enemy of the Lorr when General Cyrus flew out of sight atop the giant eagle. The military staff of the Lorr had just received confirmation of the devastation at Ashstone and that help was on the way. The Lorr were dispatching a third of its northern host and a full squadron of eagles, along with a contingent of mages to provide additional security and assistance for the beleaguered Thana. The general and mages were riding in tandem, behind the eagle's rider and secured to the saddle by an additional harness. This was the quickest way to cross that vast distance between Lorrwood and Ashstone.

  The plan was for Neven to triple their northern border strength and increase the number of patrols along the northern and eastern borders, in the event the Jugazi were able to sneak past the Lorr-fixed fortifications. Though it had never happened in the past, you could never be too careful. This, in a way, was the Lorr motto. Sometimes Neven disliked the degree of cautiousness his people exhibited, but then again, at just over two hundred years of age, he was young for a Lorr and even younger for the position of vice general he held in the absence of Cyrus. Still, the Lorr did not always promote based on how many winters an individual had survived. Instead, most promotions seemed based on merit and aptitude, which for the most part suspiciously corresponded with the age of a person. Still, it had worked out in Neven's favor, given the position he now held.

  Now, just when awarded such a prestigious position as second in command of the host, one of his first tasks besides beefing up their borders was to find his replacement. Granted, it was a temporary replacement, but it was still a replacement. Before leaving, the general informed him that Neven would be attending this year's games in Jordache, held at Crystal City, their capital. The general wished his vice general to meet the new champion of the gods, see if the man had the skills needed to unite the Alliance and finally gauge the readiness of the Jordache and Korath armies, if possible.

  They would not participate, even though no one had said they could not. However, Neven knew the archers of Lorr were the finest in the known world, and none of the other races even came close to Lorr proficiency. Possibly, he might consent to allowing a few of the younger Lorr to hold an exhibition of long-range skill while they were there. He was still trying to decide who would go, and competition for those nineteen slots was terrific. It seemed the entire host and half the population of Lorrwood wished to get out and see the world. Even Neven had to admit it would be fun, though he had been outside the woods of their home many times in the past. He had even attended past games, though only as a silent observer.

  Still, he was anxious to meet with this new champion. From talking to Sorlen, he understood the man appeared to be young for a human, barely out of his twenties, but his soul was much older, having been thrust into the vacant shell when an Illian wizard banished its previous occupant. Perhaps this champion was even older than Cyrus, or possibly older than even Sorlen, who was the oldest Lorr Neven knew. The more he considered it, the more he was of the opinion that the champion must be at least as old as Sorlen, as nothing else made sense, since rumor now had it that the man was the champion of no less than three gods.

  How amazing that was, he thought to himself as he went over additional names of those wishing to accompany him. It was going to be hard to choose, and so many would be disappointed. Then he had a brilliant idea. He would put all the slips, with a name on each, into a cask and draw out nineteen winners, after a good shake. This way, none could say he showed favoritism. Silently, he patted himself on the back in congratulations as having passed yet another test of Cyrus's, for he well knew the general did not want to make these choices.

  "And what are you patting yourself on the back for, Neven?" A sweet melodic voice spoke behind him. Neven quickly turned around and dropped to one knee, his hands capturing those of his visitor in a gentle grasp.

  "Ah, sweet Lady Valowen, what a pleasure to be graced with your beautiful company," he murmured, kissing the top of her hand as her face hinted a blush. "I was just congratulating myself on thinking up a successful way to choose nineteen of the host, out of the thousands that applied, to accompany me to the games."

  "Let me guess. Put all their names in a barrel and draw out nineteen?" she quipped with a smile
on her face.

  "Oh, you wound me, dearest, but it could also be said that great minds think alike," he quipped right back, and they smiled at the other.

  Neven was tall for a Lorr, though not the tallest, but certainly near the top of that list. He was also more muscular than the average Lorr, noticeably so, but still, he had the white-blonde hair and blue eyes and upswept ears that favored all their people. As was usual for one of the host, he kept his long hair in a ponytail trailing down his back, where it would not get in his way if he needed to fight.

  Lady Valowen, on the other hand, was unique. Short, yet willowy, her blonde hair had tiny hints of reddish gold running through its soft tresses, like the leaves in the fall, and her eyes, though blue, were more of an ice blue rather than the medium blue of most Lorr. Her bearing also set her apart from most others, She carried herself with the regal posture of a queen, which Neven assumed she took from the queen of the Lorr herself, because Lady Valowen was companion to the queen and a lady in waiting.

  As they gazed into each other's eyes, Neven could not help but think how much he loved this perfect woman before him, that allowed him to hold her hands and once had even allowed him to kiss her soft lips after a night dancing at the king and queen’s ball held each year at winter solstice. Moreover, though they had been unofficially seeing each other for almost a decade, it might be yet another before the king consented to allow him to court this lovely lady. Now he felt her squeeze his fingers as they held hands, a look of concern crossing her face.

  "I worry about your trip, Neven. I wish with all my being you were not going, that another could take your place," she said softly.

  "Hush, dearest. There is nothing to worry about, and we will be fine, though numbering only twenty. The Jordache would never allow anything to happen to our small contingent. They wish us to join this alliance of theirs."

  "I know, but I still worry."

  "Then perhaps you will honor me with yet another kiss for good luck before I depart?" he spoke softly as he moved towards her, but she quickly snatched her hands away, laughing at the hurt expression on his face. Then she leaned close to whisper.

  "We'll see, but if the King finds out, he won't be happy and most likely will make you wait two more decades to ask my betrothal, instead of one."

  "Yes, there is that, pesky kings always put a crimp in plans."

  They both laughed then held hands again, staring into each other's eyes once more.

  Chapter 12

  ~John~

  The following morning, John once rose before the sun, and after washing up, found Alvaldi waiting in the lower anteroom of the bachelor officers’ quarters of the guard barracks. The general was kind enough to assign Alvaldi as his liaison with John, which suited him just fine. He and Alvaldi had turned into good friends. Last night he even had dinner with the Alvaldi family and enjoyed the time he spent with Alvaldi's wife and four children, two boys and two girls between the ages of four and fourteen. They had a nice little two-bedroom home within short walking distance of the barracks and practice grounds. The children had all enjoyed the Lorr wolves and spent the evening playing with them.

  John noticed Alf was with Alvaldi as he walked towards the common area with the wolves by his side, and as he drew closer, he smiled in satisfaction, seeing the clean look his sub-captain now had about him. Last night John had talked a few of the men in the company into forcefully giving Alf a good scrubbing in the company showers. While they were carrying off the shouting second in command, he paid two cleaning maids to thoroughly wash the man's clothing, all of it, and then dry it near the fires. John had laughed all the way to the officers’ quarters. He could still hear the man yelling and occasionally screaming from several hundred yards away.

  "Good morning, gentlemen," John said, greeting them while trying to keep the smile off his face.

  "Good morning to you, Sir John. I trust you slept well," replied Alvaldi with a smile.

  "Aye, that I did Alvaldi. And Alf, you look pleasantly clean this morning! What got into you?"

  "That was a dirty, rotten trick, Captain," scowled the man as he scratched himself everywhere while attempting a salute. John knew the itching was probably just his body's way of saying it was not used to being clean. It would probably subside after awhile. John simply waved the salute off while chuckling.

  "Dirty, rotten trick or not, I told you we would come to an understanding on your smell. Let's get some breakfast, Alvaldi, and then head over to the wizards’ guildhall. I have some questions for them. Alf, we'll meet you at the guildhall in an hour and a half."

  "Yes, Sir." The man said, while still scratching himself and glaring at the captain, who simply waved at him as John and Alvaldi departed.

  Breakfast today was like any other day for an officer in the guard. Sweetbread and syrup, rolls, three choices of meat and cheese, and all the ale you could drink. John found the sausage to be particularly delicious, especially when wrapped in sweetbread. The ale this morning was a slightly sharp lager with a crisp taste that washed everything down. To feed the Lorr wolves, John simply looked at them as he pointed at different meats and cheeses then threw down a large quantity of whatever their thoughts indicated they liked. John wondered if they preferred their meat raw, and they immediately responded in his thoughts that cooked was fine.

  Soon, they found themselves walking towards the castle again because the wizards’ guildhall was on the opposite side. On the way there, and because they were a bit early, Alvaldi wanted to stop at the barbers to have his beard and moustache trimmed, inspiring John to do the same, as well as get a quick haircut. He had to admit he was getting a bit shaggy as of late. Onias may have been many things, but attention to personal appearance did not top his list of priorities.

  They arrived just as the half past seven bell resounded throughout the city to find Alf waiting and the large ornate doors to the guildhall slowly opening. John watched the doors as he slowly rubbed his freshly trimmed beard and could not help thinking how pretentious the opening was. A full minute passed before the doors were fully open, and out stepped a young man of smallish stature who declared in a loud voice:

  "At least you're on time. Which one of you is the visitor?" Then the man did a double take as he caught sight of John's face, and instantly he bowed at the waist while continuing to look upward. "I didn't believe it. I mean it's never…...I can't believe…" Then he froze at an almost ninety-degree angle that looked uncomfortable, so John took pity on him.

  "Easy now, Wizard. At least I assume you're a wizard. Yes, I'm the champion, and I'm right here in front of you. We are here for a tour of your facilities and to speak with someone about what you can and can't do. Perhaps even offer some suggestions."John smiled innocently, eliciting a snort from Alvaldi.

  Rumor control through Alvaldi's contacts indicated most, but not quite all, of the general’s staff were completely on John's side, although there were still a couple of holdouts, and the general himself had not made a public decision yet. John knew this was a big step for these men. To learn fighting for victory because of, and for, those you loved, while disregarding a millennia of training. The snort was because Alvaldi knew John well enough by now, that if the man wanted something done, he would achieve it, whether by words or sword, but achieve it, he would.

  "Well, do you have a name? Or do I simply call you boy?" demanded John as his innocent look turned into a grin while watching the young man slowly straighten.

  "My Lord, it is Adrostos, I mean my name is Adrostos, my Lord." The wizard or apprentice wizard visibly gulped as his eyes remained fastened on John's cheek. "Do you realize…" A long pause and another gulp as Adrostos pointed his finger at John's cheek, and then at the two Lorr wolves.

  "Aye, never been done before, unheard of even, no champion has had multiple gods favor them and no human has ever bonded a Lorr wolf before, let alone two of them. Yeah, I get that a lot. Tell me, are you a full wizard or an apprentice?"

  "Well, my Lord, I am
a full wizard as of five months ago at winter solstice. To pass my final testing, I had to create a unique spell, which you will see shortly. But, is there anything you would like to see first?"

  "No, Adrostos, Whatever pleases your fancy, but I did want to get an idea of your general capabilities. So if you don't mind, lead the way."

  "Yes, my Lord, this way please." Adrostos led them into the well-lit interior, light provided by glowing orbs spaced every so often along the walls and along the ceiling of what appeared to be a long hall. The wizards’ guildhall was immense, and the hall they currently found themselves in, though a hundred feet long, was only a very tiny portion of its bulk. Spaced evenly along its length were three ornate fountains that were currently dry. John wondered at that, and then changed his mind as the nearest fountain sprung to life with bubbling, flowing water and small lights illuminating it from within.

  "Neat trick, getting the water to bubble and flow downward like that, Adrostos," commented John.

  "My Lord, that's not the trick. It’s worked that way for generations, but the hall always became damp and needed constant toweling by servants. The trick is what helped me pass my exams. The proximity trigger." The young man said proudly.