The God Warriors

by Sean Liebling

  "Just make sure it's much smaller in both length and diameter," he said.

  "No problem there, Sir. But these grooves you wished cut in the sides. That will take some time for my apprentices to cut this many in each object. In fact, it will be the most time-consuming part of the entire order. What is their purpose?"

  "The center of the egg will explode into a fireball by releasing that pin and depressing the wooden dowel. Then an explosion will occur, but over a brief span of time, instead of instantaneously. With these cuts, the egg should fragment into smaller chunks of iron. We call that shrapnel, and it's designed to propel away from the object when it explodes, in order to cause damage to an enemy, a two-fold destructive effect. We'll have to experiment with the timing, which is why I wanted a dozen of them."

  "All right, I see what you need, but why not cast the egg in lead with chunks of steel added? The lead should melt first, and the iron or steel fly free as you designed. They would be easy to cast, then. Very quick, and very cheap to make."

  "Okay, we'll try that, Wiscar. If it doesn't work, we'll go back to cutting grooves. Fair enough?"

  "Yes, then the eggs and the metal cylinders I can do by the morning easily. Same with this box contraption you designed. The other tube-like object is a different matter. How precise do these measurements need to be?" he asked.

  "Not very. If you make the tube out of tin and cap the base with almost anything that will not give way under a decent amount of force, all I will then need is a doorway for the projectiles you called cylinders. They need to be tapered as drawn, for accuracy. The rings can be of plain iron for now. We'll be experimenting with the design of both the tube and projectile, so it really doesn't matter. Simply place those six rings approximately six inches apart. Overall length should be approximately four feet. I would think you could make an iron band almost the same size as the tin tube and heat it up to expand it. Then let it cool, while shrinking down on the tube. Not sure how much clearance to leave, but they need to be tight. Yes, that door in the tube you're pointing at can be left open in the samples, but in the finished product, we'll leave it closed with a latch," answered John.

  "Okay. Your two gold is far greater than my normal fee even for a rush order, so these will be done by ten bells in the morning. I already have most of it formed here already. I will just have to put some touches on a few items."

  "Fantastic! Thank you, Wiscar."

  "You're welcome. Now let me get to work," he said gruffly but with a hint of a smile on his face as he turned away, while muttering under his breath, continuing to examine the papers. It did not escape John's notice that Wiscar pocketed both gold coins as they left the smith.

  Now he needed to see a leather crafter. He had special harnesses he wished to have made.

  Chapter 14

  ~Elsa~

  The following day, Elsa's company met up with the reinforcements from Crystal City. Two full troops had been dispatched to extensively patrol the territory as far north as Fort Brandor. To quicken their pace, they brought along two replacement steeds for each guard member and were covering twice the distance each day. If this were a full invasion, they would nip it before it became out of control, or at least delay it long enough for the general armies of Jordache to engage. The reinforcements even had a wizard in their company to allow communication with the capital in case they met with overwhelming numbers. Elsa was happy to see their numbers and even happier to see the overall commander of both troops. It was none other than Commander Moore of the King’s Own guard who was leading these five thousand men and women.

  "Greetings, Commander Moore. I am relieved to see my fears were taken seriously," she said as they drew near. The commander slowed his units to a walk but did not stop moving northward, forcing her to follow him on her own horse.

  "Well, Elsa, the wizard said you were god–touched, and that actually means something. If the Illian are truly contemplating another incursion in force, I want to stop it now, as does our King."

  At his words, Elsa sighed."I just hope I'm not being paranoid."

  "I doubt it. History has shown us that the god-touched instinctively know things others do not. I accept your fears and agree with them, which is why I requested this command, even knowing I might not make it back for the games. That is okay, though. The kingdom comes first. Now, tell me what aroused your suspicions. I would have a firsthand account of the matter."

  For the next ten minutes, she explained everything she could think of that set wrong with her, and found he agreed with all of it. Yes, he would conduct his own independent investigation upon reaching the trading post, but he concurred with her that the Illian were acting abnormally, which was never a good sign. They finished off with talking about the games in a month.

  "Besides, you and your company will be representing us," Moore chuckled at that, and even Elsa had to smile. She had worked long and hard to make her unit the best, and now she just had to pick out twenty of her company to compete.

  "Well, I expect so, Commander. We've certainly trained hard enough. The men and women are more than ready. The hard part will be picking only nineteen of them to participate with me."

  "I agree. That's always a hard decision to make when you have faith in all," responded the commander.

  "Exactly!"

  They talked about a few other things before going their separate ways. Commander Moore would be staging out of Friva while sending units in all directions and would see to the wounded she'd been forced to leave behind. For that, she was grateful, and mentioned it, but soon enough, Commander Moore's group were at a fast canter again, heading north, and Elsa returned to her company.

  Wolf Company made Crystal City the following late afternoon and Elsa shared her suspicions and the reasons for them with her superiors. They in turn asked many questions concerning those suspicions and her observations concerning other matters in the area. For instance, did she know if the wild game in the area had been depleted, to name only one of the many questions directed her way. In the end, they had concurred with her suspicions, and there was even talk of sending two more troops to the north, but that was all she had been able to hear before being commanded to retire from their presence.

  Soon enough, she was back with her troops who had already been given a late supper at the guard dining area. First, she checked on the lightly wounded and made sure they wore fresh bandages after their showers and then saw to their bedding down in the barracks. It had been a hard ride, and they were all exhausted. Only then did she see to her own meal, finding herself eating alone in the captains’ dining hall, where she sat in the back room in the company of the kitchen staff who were eating leftovers. It was still better than nothing. Then, Gunnor walked in, surprising her.

  "Yo, Gunnor," she called out, then choked. Her mouth was full of beef. She turned bright red with embarrassment. Belatedly, she hoped he didn't notice her transgression, for even though she was not interested in the man, romantically, it did not mean she didn't need to keep up appearances.

  "Hey, Elsa," he said with a smile, taking the chair opposite the small table from hers, making himself comfortable. The two of them had grown to be close friends over the years, and since the kitchen staff had retired for the night, leaving her alone with an admonition to turn down the oil lamps when she was done, he used her given name instead of addressing her as captain. Now, he leaned forward, his elbows on the table, took a sniff and crinkled his face.

  "Lady, I hate to say this, but you desperately need a shower. I can smell you from over here, despite that plate of food," he joked as he got up to take a tankard down from one of the man on the shelves, grabbing her mostly empty vessel and filling them both from a nearby barrel of Ale.

  "I know, I know. Don't rub it in. I've been on the trail for hands of days, then fighting before that. Honestly, Gunnor, it's sad, but I can't remember my last bath." She laughed at her own weak attempt at humor as she devoured another large hunk of beef, taking a swallow of her freshly rene
wed ale while nodding at Gunnor in thanks.

  "I won't, and I know you've already repeated yourself too many times, but I would appreciate a rundown on what happened out there. I'm not sure if we'll be sent out or not before month's end and besides," now he placed his hand over hers resting on the table and squeezed it lightly, before pulling back, "you're like a little sister to me. I can't help worrying about you, sis." But he said it with another of his smiles, and she smiled back because she felt the same way towards him.

  "Since when does the King’s Own go on patrol? I thought that was one of the benefits of winning that position?"

  "Well, it was, but recently the King decided to allow other units to rotate through. ‘Take turns,’ he calls it. I don't know about you, but if I were king, I would want the best guarding me and my family at all times."

  "Which is Wolf Company/The King’s Own," both of them said simultaneously, then laughed at their own obvious bias.

  "Can a third join this little party?" spoke a voice from the doorway, and as both Elsa and Gunnor whipped their heads around to look .They saw General Roulf Fries leaning against the frame, a lazy smile adorning his face. Taking it for granted, Elsa and Gunnor had no objections to him joining them, the general seated himself next to Gunnor after drawing his own tankard of ale and taking a healthy swig of it.

  "I heard enough to answer your unspoken question, Gunnor," the general said as he sat his tankard down and looked at the man. "No, your unit will remain here for the games to provide an honor guard for the King and the royal family. Continue to eat Elsa. I know you're hungry," he said then took another drink, watching both of them. Elsa would swear the general’s eyes could swivel independently of each other and thus he was able to keep track of them both. By now, they were over their brief shock at the commander of commanders appearing within their midst, and both she and Gunnor seemed to realize this was an unofficial visit.

  "So, what brings you to our fine establishment, Sir?" she asked, waving one hand at the kitchen surroundings while quickly taking another bite, this time of bread laden with cheese. She was still hungry, and these interruptions were slowing down her food intake.

  "I just wanted some more impressions from you, Elsa," he said, taking another drink and smacking his lips in satisfaction. "By the gods, I'd almost forgotten how good ale tastes. Don't get married, Gunnor. My wife has me on a no ale or wine diet, and I'm miserable half the time." Both Gunnor and Elsa smiled at the general’s attempt at humor, but she needed to ask.

  "What type of impressions, Sir?"

  "Anything at all, Elsa, anything you can think of," he replied.

  "I'm not sure, Sir. I wish I was," she sighed wolfing down another bite before continuing. "It's just a feeling that something's there, or will soon be there. That something's about to happen, and I should be ready. At first, I thought it meant more Illians in the woods, infiltrating from the passes, but now I'm not so sure. Since arriving here in the capital, I'm getting that feeling from everything around me. It cannot be described, but it's driving me crazy. I almost wish Hera had never spoken to me. She hasn't directly answered any of my prayers since, in case you were about to ask."

  "That does seem to be the way of the god-touched. Vague impressions, worry, and even the gods don't know why those they communicate with, receive these feelings afterwards, these thoughts. It's as if when Hera spoke to you; she opened up something inside you. Something intuitive that needs brought into the light of day. We've known this for dozens, if not hundreds of generations, and there is no satisfactory answer other than when a god-touched gets these feelings, something bad is about to happen."

  "But what can I do about it, Sir? I said Hera will not talk to me anymore. Or, hasn't yet, and I feel so helpless."

  "Well, that's what I wanted to talk to you about. I'm beefing up the guard for the games this year. Your company will be there, as will fourteen others. I am also putting two more troops on alert. Those guard units placed strategically around the capital will hopefully deter any crises. I am taking no chances with your premonitions and the royal family, Elsa. I also have another mission for you."

  "Where to, General? The Belgresse border this time?"

  "No! You will be the honor guard for the new champion of the gods, and I meant to say that in plural form. I doubt you have heard, but the God Ares granted our world a new champion, which always means bad things. Now get this. He also bears the mark of two other gods, that of Hera and Shianna. I've been reliably informed that this has never happened in all recorded history. All this and your feeling of unease tells me something bad is going to happen very soon, so I am trying to prepare for the worst. I also understand he will arrive a few days before the games begin, so your mission is that of a protective detail. Stay close to him, and do not let him out of your sight. I want to know everything there is to know about this champion by the end of the games." With that, the general rose, drained his tankard, and then set it in the sink to be washed in the morning. He turned back to the two before leaving. "Now, don't tell my wife about the ale," he grinned, and the door closed behind him.

  "Well, that was unusual," remarked Gunnor.

  "Yes," Elsa said as she pushed her plate away, no longer hungry. She started to rise to take it to the sink, but Gunnor waved her back and rose himself to place it next to the general's tankard. He reached over and drew them two fresh ales. "Thanks," she sighed.

  "Take a drink, and tell me about the Illian. I won't let you go to sleep until you do," was his reply, and with a smile, she did exactly that. She told him about the trip, the rock cobra, seeing the smoke, and then the battle and how off it felt. Then the following day, meeting the priest and getting word back. She drummed her fingers silently on the wooden tabletop, looking at Gunnor, a serious expression on her face.

  "Gunnor, don't take this the wrong way, but I don't feel like sleeping alone tonight. Would you spend the night with me, just to hold me, and nothing else? I'm scared."

  "Only if you take a shower first," he joked.

  That night, she had no dreams she could recall, but the feeling of unease was still with her and growing perceptibly stronger.

  ~The Gods - Hera~

  [Elsa concerns me, Ares. For all my powers and those of the other elder gods, not a one of us knows why the god-touched experience the feelings they do. She is having premonitions, her mind is like a cyclone, and I can barely keep it calmed,] Hera remarked as she sat next to Ares on a stone bench within her domain, her pocket universe.

  [Mother, you are actively calming her. Does she know?]

  [Yes, my son, I have to. The stream shows her of massive future importance. I can't see many details yet. They are submerged, but if I didn't take an active role, she would already be crazy. The feeling is that strong within her. Even touching her this lightly is having an enormous effect upon her.]

  [What do you mean, Mother?] inquired Ares.

  [She was god touched before, and now I have no idea what she is. I feel deep inside me she is slipping away from my control, and I worry about that. Her mind, her empathic side, both parts of her psyche is evolving, even as we speak of it.]

  [Could another elder god be manipulating events here? Could it even be the Devourer?]

  [I don't think so, Ares. I have been around for millions of years, and I think I know all the elder gods. It's almost as if there's an intangible skein over everything, obscuring my sight and forcing these current events in a very subtle way.]

  [Well, I do not know what I can do that you cannot do better, but I will keep an eye on Elsa for you, Mother. Now, may we speak of John?] A tinkle of laughter like the purest silver bell rippled through the air from Hera when she heard him.

  [Of course, my son. What did you wish to speak of?]

  [What he is doing is unnatural. He is making grenades. Can you believe it? Also, satchel charges and bazookas, as he calls them, and if we do not stop him, who knows what else he will create. He's already thinking in the back of his mind of introducing
black powder and a much stronger explosive called TNT. The man is completely out of control, and I wish permission to modify his thinking. I do not dare, though, unless you back me. Shianna would be quite upset.]

  [No, I will not grant my permission in this. I now feel very strongly that I was guided to John, and did not simply find him out of the trillions of others. Call me god–touched, if you will, but the feeling within me says to let him work undisturbed, while keeping guard over him.]

  [This is a medieval world, Mother.]

  [And it still is my son. He is only applying metal smithing and magic in a new way, with perhaps some refinements.]

  [But, it's unnatural!] Ares said in exasperation.

  [The Devourer is unnatural,] she replied calmly.

  [You know, once they turn to technology, we will once again be forgotten.]

  [And perhaps that is for the best, my son. Others may consider us gods, but they have souls and free will. Now, no more of it, and leave him be.]

  [Yes, Mother,]" Ares said as he dropped that particular subject before continuing. [Have any of the other gods contacted you?]

  [A few, but they are not saying much. They are all aware how volatile the time stream is for this universe. In fact, it is becoming indistinct of late. Mortis has asked my help with Logi, but I told him he was strong enough to counter the efforts of Logi to harm the Thana and that my concentration was better spent elsewhere.]

  [Mother, surely Mortis is the stronger of the two. Logi always seemed fairly weak to me.]

  [Mortis is by far the stronger. I think he's just worried about getting caught by surprise again.]

  [Anything I can do to help?]

  [Well, as a favor to Mortis, if you catch Logi lurking about, throw him down the time stream far enough it will take him weeks to get back here.]