The Children of Urdis (Grimwold and Lethos Book 2)

by Jerry Autieri

  "Stop!" Grimwold shouted. Lethos felt the tight pull of magical power shoot from between his eyes into Grimwold's head. He spared no power, and Lethos did not doubt it would take all they had to penetrate that giant's will.

  A cold trickle on Lethos's spine warned him to pull Grimwold aside. In the next instant, the giant, which seemed unaware of their presence until this instant, leapt feet-first at their position. Were it not for Lethos's own augmented strength, he would not have been able to pull Grimwold to safety. They narrowly avoided being crushed underfoot as the ground shook and the giant howled with delight.

  "I command you to stop," Grimwold shouted again.

  An itching burn formed between Lethos's eyes as Grimwold hurled more of his power at it, but the creature only roared in irritation. It checked the soles of its feet, and whined in dissatisfaction when it found nothing crushed beneath them.

  "It has our blood," Lethos shouted. "And probably our immunity to our own powers."

  Grimwold stood beneath the roaring giant as calmly as if he were minding a misbehaving child. He drew his sword in answer to Lethos's observation.

  Neither Grimwold nor Lethos could harm one another. Their magic prevented it. Grimwold could not dominate Lethos's will, and Lethos could never so much as slap Grimwold without his blow going wide. Whatever made it so Manifested Dyads could not harm each other seemed to have passed with the use of their blood. The giant shrugged off domination attempts with contempt.

  The monster now glared at them, but gave an evil grin as Blund and dozens of his warriors arrived. He turned from them and with two massive strides was away and meeting the mass of attackers.

  "They're going to be killed," Lethos said. "Order them away."

  "They'd rather die than flee," Grimwold said. He drew his own sword and bounded after the giant.

  With a careless one-handed swipe of the tree, the giant knocked aside Blund and his first line of men. The tree dragged and bounced along the ground, gouging the earth and wasting the force of the blow, yet men still screamed. Lethos hoped the cracking he heard was from shattering branches and not bone.

  Grimwold leapt the final distance to the giant, his inhuman strength letting him jump higher and farther than any man. He held his sword in both hands like a spike, and landed a deep blow to the back of the giant's thigh.

  Only Grimwold's strength carried the sword home, and the blade sank deep into the meat of the giant's leg. It screamed in anger and whirled on Grimwold with foamy spittle flying from its mouth. With one kick, it sent Grimwold sailing through the air and into the forest.

  A human would have died from the kick and been torn to bits as he crashed through the trees. Yet Lethos watched, knowing Grimwold suffered little more than injured pride. He was still a Manifested, and precious few things could truly hurt him.

  You will have to handle it, came Grimwold's thoughts. I have to get the sword from Thorgis. That will hack this thing to bits.

  Handle it? Lethos thought back. You want me to call the Minotaur again? It gets more of a hold on me each time I do.

  No it doesn't. Don't lie to me when I can see your heart. Grimwold's thoughts were a growl in his head. Lethos hated to rely on the beast, and feared losing himself to it more than anything else. Yet he watched the giant turn back to the warriors and raise his tree for another swipe.

  He had to call the bull spirit. No one else was going to save these men. Lethos glared up at the storm clouds, wondering if the storm riders were watching and waiting for his reaction.

  Well, let me show you what your blood magic can do.

  His body was consumed in a burning fire and his vision went red. When he saw through the red haze again, he was now halfway up to the giant's waist. Black fur-covered arms rippling with muscles. The beast in him roared through his throat, and his horns itched to impale flesh. He indulged that feeling, plowing head-long into the massive body before him.

  The giant answered with a surprised yelp, like a child having his toys snatched away. Lethos reveled in the relief of his horns impaling flesh. There was so much there, a rich field to tear and rip where blood would soak him. He lusted for that blood, delighted in the hot gush of it shooting down his horns.

  The giant pounded him back, and but he took it in stride. The two behemoths now tangled together, and with each jab of his horns or slash from his claws he felt himself going deeper into the wild mind of the bull spirit that had joined with his own. When hunks of flesh came away in his hands, it was all he could do to not devour them and continue to fight. When the giant slammed him to the ground and jumped on him feet first, Lethos let the pain drive his killing-madness. He only came back stronger until he was on his cloven-hoofed feet again.

  They staggered back and forth, Lethos feeling the throb of broken ribs as the giant pummeled him in desperation. The monster facing him was wide-eyed with fear and slathered with blood. Even though the giant looked down on him, Lethos had become a demon of murder that would not be intimidated by a larger opponent. He was not going to stop until the giant was nothing but bits of meat, and he was going to continue to kill until he was sated.

  And nothing would sate his desire. Blood and death were all he craved.

  The giant staggered back, and Lethos followed him down, his own sharp teeth now clacking together. He snorted out of his long snout and bit down on the giant's neck. Blood rushed into his mouth, but it tasted foul, repellent. He tore away the throat and a fountain of red jetted into the air. Yet Lethos fell aside from it as if it were poison.

  He staggered back and collapsed to his knees. This was his blood, the blood of Grimwold, and probably the blood of scores of innocents. Nothing could be more disgusting.

  The giant gurgled and wheezed and then went still. Lethos remained on his knees, holding his head in his hands and crying out like a lost calf. As fast as the bull spirit had come to his aid, it retreated in terror at the taste of its own blood, however diluted it was. Again he was blinded as he transformed down into his own body, then he fell to his side on the cold earth. The scent of it mixed with the scent of corrupted blood. The world was oddly silent but for the distant moaning of the injured.

  He was naked and did not care. Blood rolled down his face into his mouth, making him spit involuntarily. Though a cold wind flowed over him, his body grew hot as the broken bones reformed beneath his flesh. After a few still moments, it was as if he had never been hurt.

  A rough woolen cloak settled over his body. He lifted his head from the ground and saw Grimwold squatting beside him, a smile on his face.

  "I only saw the end of it, but let me say, I'm glad you cannot attack me like that. I don't think even a dragon could stand against you when the beast is in control."

  Lethos blinked, then sat up and pulled the cloak tighter around his shoulders. Grass clung to his bloodied face. "I don't know if I should take it as a compliment."

  "Thorgis has left us." Grimwold looked aside and Lethos sensed his shame. "He took the sword with him."

  "Why didn't you command it from him when you had the chance?"

  "For the same reason you don't want to call the Minotaur all the time." Grimwold stood and extended his hand to Lethos, who did not accept. "That power was once in control of my life. It was before we met, but you know the truth of it. Bending men to my will becomes easier every time I do it. Soon I would dominate a man for not passing me the mead horn fast enough. Kafara and Turo were showing me how to keep that desire at bay. Then they died. I'm not sure I know what I'm doing. Besides, it felt wrong to dominate where the sword was concerned."

  Lethos took the offered hand, and Grimwold hauled him up. He felt light-headed and stiff, and looking at the giant's corpse he also felt a sense of amazement. Did he really bring down something so huge? Then he saw the lines of the dead and injured sprawled in the grass and their fellow warriors hovering over them.

  Blund was among the wounded but still alive. He coughed out blood as he grabbed Lethos's cloak in one weak hand. "Yo
u're on our side, right?"

  Patting Blund's shoulder, Lethos nodded and left him to the care of his men. He rejoined with Grimwold who now stared at the forest.

  "I have to go after Thorgis before he gets too far."

  "Keep in touch with me," Lethos said, staring with him at the gray line of barren trees dotted with dark pines. "Syrus and Valda will be gone a few days yet."

  "He cannot be too far gone. I will be back before Syrus returns."

  Grimwold set out once the village of Brunholm had settled down from the attack. With Blund laid out in his bed and most of the warriors either gone to Norddalr or felled by the giant, the village looked to Lethos for protection.

  When Grimwold did not return the following morning, Lethos reached out with his mind. Grimwold rebuffed him, and so he waited longer into the day, lingering in the hall and occasionally showing himself outside to ease the villagers' worries. He tried to contact Grimwold again, and then he got a vague impression of worry.

  I need more than this, Lethos thought. Have you found Thorgis yet?

  Grimwold shoved him out of his mind, and just before he slammed it shut to Lethos, he offered him a brief explanation.

  This might take a bit longer than I thought. Must do this myself.

  Then Lethos was now as oblivious to Grimwold's situation as everyone else.

  CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

  Lethos sat in Blund's hall, alone but for the servants that occasionally flitted inside to attend him. None of them could provide for his true need, which was contact with Grimwold. He only had a sense of his location somewhere to the southwest, and he might not have even been on this island any longer. Otherwise, the door to Grimwold's mind was forcibly barred. He brooded in the jumping hearth fire light of the hall, resting his chin in both hands as he waited at a table that had been pushed to a wall on a bench he had taken down for himself.

  He had not joined the rush of people to greet Syrus and Valda's return. Even Blund had dragged himself out of bed to meet them at the shore, hanging between two warriors who supported him. Syrus and Valda's mission had grown in the popular imagination during the last few days. People somehow believed they would return with news that these Tsal invaders were now gone and life could return to normal. Lethos chuckled at the simplistic hope. He shared it, but did not believe it.

  The approaching voices were muffled in the distance, and Lethos knew the welcome party was returning to the main hall. The barbarians did everything in their main halls from eating, sleeping, celebrating, ceremonies of every kind, to even laying out their dead before burial. He would not have to go anywhere to be at the center of anything important.

  The voices in the front room were a sudden loudness in the quiet of the hall. The hearth fire was fresh and burning brightly, a complement to the animated voices that now approached. Lethos shifted around on his bench and stood to greet Valda. Now his face warmed at the thought of seeing her again, and how he had sulked in the hall alone. He should have gone to greet her like everyone else had, for she had been as brave as any hero of legend for doing this. Yet this willful cut off from Grimwold, particularly when it seemed he could use help, had put him on his back foot. Now he had to face up to his childishness.

  Blund was the first to enter the main hall, limping along with help from his warriors. Several other warriors followed, and then Syrus entered. The normally fastidious Syrus the Silver looked as if he had been dragged behind the ship for the entire journey. His eyes were ringed with dark circles and his beard was bushy and tangled. He seemed near to sliding into a pile on the dirt floor. He paused at Lethos, his dark eyes searching for what must have been Grimwold.

  "He's gone to find Thorgis," Lethos said in response to the implied question. "He's been gone as long as you have, and I've no idea when he's returning."

  Now Syrus did falter, and the men at his side caught him before he collapsed.

  "I have failed in every way," Syrus said, his formerly melodious voice now wracked with self-loathing. "I should be cut into pieces and fed to the wolves. I am not fit even for the lowest task."

  He sank to his knees even as men tried to hold him up. Lethos scanned the group surrounding Syrus for Valda, but he did not see her. It seemed odd that she should not be at his side? Unless ...

  "Has Valda been hurt?" Lethos rushed to Syrus, pushing aside anyone in his way. Syrus let his head drop and Lethos lifted it, seeing the anguish in his eyes.

  "Worse, she has been taken captive. Avulash trapped us. He let me deliver a message to you that is now useless. You have only three days to answer, and one was spent with my traveling here."

  The men holding him let Syrus slump to the floor. Lethos grabbed his shoulders and shook. "You're not making sense. What was the message? Speak!"

  "If you and Grimwold surrender to Avulash within three days, then he and his crew will withdraw and free Valda. If you do not, Valda dies and he continues to make slaves out off all of Valahur. You and Grimwold are to be a gift to his king."

  Silence swept over the room as Lethos stared hard at Syrus, who let his head hang once again. A rush of feelings sped through him, everything from rage to panic and every shade of fear he could imagine. His fists balled, and for a moment he wanted to slam them both into Syrus's face. Not for putting him in danger, he would always be in danger. How could he have let Valda be taken? He should have given his life to defend her, and not crawled away like a coward.

  "Tell me," Lethos said with forced patience, "that at least you found a way to destroy the beacon."

  Syrus shook his head and began to weep. "W-we found a hidden book penned by High King Eldegris himself. But when Avulash sprung his trap, he stripped me of it and all the other books I had rescued. King Eldegris's book held the key, I believe. But it is in Avulash's possession now."

  Men stepped away from Syrus as he dissolved into tears. Lethos crouched before him and wavered between contempt and pity. As Syrus's sobs grew stronger, Lethos finally realized he was looking at a normal man forced to deal with a supernatural world. How could he blame him for not being stronger? What could he have logically done but deliver the message? Lethos felt a lump in his throat when he realized Syrus had given the last bit of himself to serve his king and his conscience. He patted the crying man on the shoulder.

  "You did all that a man could do. Do not condemn yourself."

  Syrus shook his head and refused to look up. When Lethos stood, he found the entire assembly staring at him. Faces of every age and gender were grim with worry, each asking him the silent question he knew filled their minds. Would he surrender to Avulash and spare them?

  Blund was the first to look aside and also to speak. His voice was rough and low, but it filled the hall such was the silence.

  "Will you find Grimwold and do as the invaders asked?"

  "I will," Lethos said without hesitation. Was there another answer he could give?

  The crowd stirred, and their collective breaths escaped in relief. Only Syrus looked up with his tear-stained face gleaming in the waving firelight.

  "Unless you can summon Grimwold this instant, we do not have enough time to set sail again and make Avulash's deadline."

  Lethos narrowed his eyes at Syrus. "Do not doubt me. Get your ship ready to sail now, and I will do all I need to make this situation right. The Tsal will trouble us no more once we are under sail. I swear it before all of you."

  This gave the crowd heart, and while no one cheered like they did when war chiefs talked about cutting off enemy heads, their voices did brighten. The crowd began to stir again, and Blund, leaning on his warriors, spoke over them.

  "Resupply the ship and send them off at once. Let our heroes go to put an end to the plague on our lands."

  Men siphoned off the back of the crowd to carry out Blund's command. Blund himself gave Lethos a grim look. "This is a brave sacrifice you make for all of us. Since the day we first met, you've always shown your heart to serve others. You're a better man than most."

 
Lethos simply nodded. When they had first met he was guided by his sixth sense for undoubtedly self-serving reasons to rescue Blund and his crew. No need to correct him on that score. Also, he was not about to sacrifice himself now, which contrary to expectations was never his plan. He was going to find Avulash, give himself over to the bull spirit, then tear Avulash to shreds. If he could find Grimwold in time, he would take him as well. But for whatever reason, Grimwold's mind was still blocked to him.

  Syrus remained on the floor as the group broke up, and Blund went to oversee the resupply of the ship. Lethos stood beside him and felt intense sympathy for the man. His goddess was apparently harsh on those who failed in their duty. Lethos was determined to give him another to fulfill, and maybe it would restore him to his old self.

  "Stand up like a man," Lethos said, imitating the gruff manner of the Valahurians. He didn't have much conviction in his acting, but it was enough to rouse Syrus to his feet. He pulled Syrus closer and lowered his voice. The hall was still noisy with the crowd mixing its way out of the hall. "Your duty to protect Valda and retrieve Eldegris's book is not done. So stop sulking. You are coming with me on this ship. Grimwold has blocked himself from me, so it's just us."

  "But that's the problem. Avulash wants both of you before he will release Valda and retreat."

  "Avulash is not retreating," Lethos said with a sneer. "The last thing Turo did before he died was tear off the bottom of Avulash's white ark. If it didn't sink to the ocean floor, then it could have barely made it to shore. Where will Avulash go without his ship? He will summon a storm and fly to some hidden location. But he won't retreat back to where he came from. If he could have traveled by storm to us in the first place, wouldn't he have done so? It would've been faster. But I think there's a limit on how far a storm can take him."

  Syrus's puffy eyes searched an invisible scene, then met Lethos's. "If Valda knew this, why would she let herself be taken?"