Gods Of Blood And Fire (Book 1)

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Gods Of Blood And Fire (Book 1) Page 40

by A. J. STRICKLER


  Two riders should be able to slip by the frozen soldiers in the dark. They would have to take a wide path before turning back north to avoid Havalon’s troops but they should be well past the Abberdonian army by dawn. Endra looked back to give the city a last glance, she hoped K’xarr would understand.

  ***

  K’xarr stalked toward the wall around noon the next day, Rufio on his heels. “That stupid woman, what the hell was she thinking, bad enough she runs off herself when I need all the sword arms I can get, but she takes my healer too?”

  Rufio knew the question was not directed at him and just shrugged when the general looked his way. He just kept quiet and continued to listen to K’xarr rant. “I guess her loyalty lays inside her pants; go on and find your lost kitty, you foolish wench.”

  Rufio knew K’xarr was mad, not only because Endra ran off with Rhys, but because he was worried what would happen to them out on their own, he cared, though he would never admit it. Rufio sighed, he could tell it was going to be a long day.

  Bishop Lyfair had said his morning prayers and talked with the priests of the city on what they should be telling their congregations about the Queen, now he had returned to the comfort of his rooms. He poured himself a glass of wine and sat down before his fireplace. He sat in a great overstuffed chair and kicked his shoes off. The heat quickly warmed his bones.

  He wondered if that animal could truly bring the Queen back. It mattered little to him now who ruled Bandara, he would be fine either way. Cain, Raygan, or Havalon, he would prefer one of Aaron’s children but he wasn’t picky. He was protected by the Church in any event.

  Lyfair was very glad he had the good sense to send word to Tyro when K’xarr and the others brought that monster in to the city.

  The courier should have reach Tyro several weeks ago. If the Church had sent an envoy by way of the Gold Road, it may already be in Bandara. He had received no word but that wasn’t unusual, the Church would do what the Church would do.

  He was sure the Holy Father would take interest in a rogue Half Elf, there might even be some recognition for bringing it to the Church’s attention. After all, the thing was extremely dangerous and obviously enchanted. Mother Church frowned on unsanctioned magic in all forms. He just didn’t know what was taking them so long to act. The Bishop had no way to know how big an impact that one message would have on the world and his life.

  Chapter 22

  The snow was still coming down hard, but he could at least see now, his feet were frozen and frost had formed on his face. It had become very hard to keep moving. He was tired, yet his feet crunched through the hip-deep snow, one after the other. He hadn’t stopped or had any food for days and he had lost track of the time going so long with no sleep. He knew falling asleep might mean death in the bitter cold. How long had it been?

  He thought it must have been at least a week or ten days maybe more, because now Kian could see the Adorn Forest in the distance. It was there, looming ahead like a great shadow in the falling snow.

  He decided he wouldn’t stop until he reached the forest. Once he was inside the wood he could find shelter and rest for a day. Maybe he could find something to eat as well. He pulled the hood of his cloak down tighter and pushed on.

  A blizzard had hit Bandara not long after he left Turill, only sheer determination and his inhuman constitution had gotten him this far, no human could have survived the journey he had just made. The white of the snow had been the only thing on the horizon for days. Now at last he could see the naked trees of the accursed forest. He was getting closer.

  Kian had never felt as isolated as he did in this white waste. For brief moments he would forget where he was going and why he was out in this misery in the first place. Then he would remember the Queen and her unborn child. He had to bring them back, but it was so cold and he was exhausted. He needed rest, his mind was starting to do strange things, it was hard to stay focused and he couldn’t afford to lose his wits now. All he had to do was get to the trees and everything would be fine.

  ***

  Rhys and Endra had come across the Wounded Griffin Inn a few days after the blizzard started and had been holding up there ever since. It was just too hard on them and the horses to stay out in the cold. There had been no choice but to stop and wait it out, no matter how much they wanted to go on.

  No other guests were staying at the inn. Lew, the innkeeper, and his wife Dory were their only company. The innkeeper and his wife had fed them well and had not asked many questions. It had been a pleasant stay. Lew’s levity and Dory’s charming disposition made the days pass much faster for the two anxious travelers.

  The weather had finally begun to ease and the wind had died down. Rhys pulled back the plain curtains that covered the inn’s window and looked out. “The snow is slowing down and the sky is not so dark. I think we can move on.”

  Endra was sitting at one of the tables, drinking warm wine; she sat the cup down and joined Rhys at the window. “I think you’re right, let’s saddle the horses and go, I wonder where Kian held up during this blow.”

  Rhys gathered his cloak and fur cap off a peg on the wall. “I hope somewhere as nice as this, that weather was not fit for anyone to be out in, even Kian couldn’t have survived it.”

  “I hope he was not foolish enough to try and press on through that storm. If he didn’t take shelter he will be far ahead of us.”

  Rhys pulled his fur cap over his head. “If he didn’t take shelter, he is dead. Don’t worry we will catch up to him.”

  The healer walked over to the counter where Lew and Dory stood. “I want to thank you both for your kindness and hospitality.” The healer put a small sack of silver coins down on the bar and shook Lew’s hand. Within an hour, Rhys and Endra had gathered their things and saddled the horses and were heading north.

  Lew and Dory walked out from behind the bar of the small inn. As they did, Lew’s form changed from a short balding Bandaran into a tall muscular blonde man with skin bronzed by the sun and beautiful amber eyes.

  Dory, no longer an aging woman, had changed into a flawless young beauty with long perfect blonde hair. Her magnificent body was only surpassed by the woman’s enchanting blue eyes and angelic face. She wore only a see-through shift. The handsome man’s eyes devoured her heavy chest and well-rounded hips. “Must you always dress like that, Valintina?”

  She gave the man a wicked smile. “How should the Goddess of Love dress, Airius? Would you prefer I cover my body with cloth and furs like the barbarian woman?”

  It was his turn to give a wicked smile. “Her curves rivaled yours, my dear, even in that vile clothing.”

  The Goddess frowned. “I think not, my dear. She is the one though. The sins did not lie about her, even though dishonesty is second nature to them.”

  He put his arm around her and both gazed out the window watching the two travelers ride away through the snow. “I still don’t believe he has returned, no matter what those witches say. We all locked him away, there is no returning from that prison.”

  He felt a shiver go through her body and she looked at him with her sea-colored eyes. “Do you want to take the chance and ignore their warning? I know they are lying troublemakers, but who else among us would have bedded her and why?”

  He turned her towards him. “We should return to the veil and find the others, maybe they know something, let’s bring back the innkeeper and his wife and go.”

  The Goddess of Love looked up into the God of the Dawn’s eyes, her face covered with a shroud of fear. “What if it’s true, Airius? What if the Reaper has escaped?”

  He pulled her into his embrace and caressed her soft hair, as if trying to comfort a child. “Then we are all dead.”

  ***

  Three thousand men were all that was left of the Bandaran defenders. There had been two more assaults by the Abberdonians since Kian had went north, the last had gone on all day and into the night.

  K’xarr looked out over the enemy, they wer
e going to come at them again soon, maybe tomorrow or the next day, he didn’t think they could hold the wall again. Many of his men were wounded and morale was low.

  He looked down at the bandage around his arm. The black stain on the white bandage stood out like a crow among doves. The men had seen it and word spread quickly through the Bandaran ranks. He had been so focused on the Abberdonians, he had almost forgotten about his affliction. Just like always he heard the speculation start: sorcerer, demon, cursed, evil. He had heard all the same words before.

  It filled his heart with hate when people found out about his blood. They treated him like some kind of malevolent thing born of the Beast. He would like to kill them all, but could he really blame them? Would he be any different if it was someone else, if he was not the one?

  To hell with them all, he would show them. He would stand with them when the Abberdonians breached the walls and die just like any other man, no matter what they thought of him. It could be worse, they could have tried to imprison or kill him. The only thing stopping them was the war and the Queen’s order that he was to be obeyed. Thank the heavens that Lyfair had kept her absence secret. He and his priests fed the people tales of her struggles with the royal pregnancy. It seemed to satisfy them for now.

  There was no sense debating all of his troubles, it didn’t matter anymore, in a day or two it would all be over. He looked down the wall to see Rufio and Cromwell approaching. “General, you have some … People that want to see you,” Rufio reported.

  “What people?”

  “Witches.” Cromwell said with a sour look on his face.

  The six of them stood before him in the old warehouse he had commandeered for his headquarters near the north wall. Every one of them more beautiful than the next, they had abandoned their heavy-hooded cloaks. In their place, each wore a black lace dress that did nothing to hide their striking figures. One’s hair a deep red, another’s was white as snow, all the rest of the women’s hair was black as midnight, and none looked to be older than twenty-five. “What do you mean, you’ve come to help me?” K’xarr asked.

  The one that had introduced herself as Raven was doing most of the talking. Her dark eyes and her cleavage made it hard for K’xarr to concentrate. “Just what I said, General, the six of us want to help you, Havalon will have this city if you don’t have the good sense to let us aid you. I also see that your little secret is out. How long do you think the Bandarans will follow you now? I can make them fear to disobey anything you order.”

  Raven was gorgeous, but she was starting to rub him the wrong way. He didn’t like being talked to like he was an idiot. She also seemed to know about his blood. “You don’t know the city will fall that quickly. We could hold longer than you think, and we are expecting reinforcements in the spring.” K’xarr knew that wasn’t true but he would be damn if he was going to agree with the witch. “If my men don’t follow my orders, I will handle them myself.” Why did he feel the need to justify himself to this woman?

  She smiled like she knew something he did not. “I beg your pardon, General K’xarr. I meant no offence, just let us assist you in the next assault on the wall and I’m sure we can prove to you our worth.”

  K’xarr thought for a moment, they hadn’t asked for anything or tried to make any kind of pact with him, what could it hurt? The next attack would most likely be the last anyway, witches or not. He had nothing to lose. “Very well, but you will follow my orders.” Raven nodded her agreement. “I will also have each one of your names, so I know what to call you if I need to issue you orders during the attack.”

  Raven stepped to the side so she could gesture to each woman in turn. “This is Scarlett.” The red-haired woman stepped forward giving a slight bow. “Jade, Skye, and Star.” The three dark-haired women took a step forward with a dramatic sway of their hips. “Lastly, Winter.” The white-haired woman looked at him with her pale grey eyes. Those barren eyes seemed to swallow all the warmth in the room. “As I said, I am Raven. Happy now, General?”

  “I met a witch called Selena, do you know of her?” K’xarr asked.

  Raven gave a thin smile. “I do, she is one of us. There are more of us than just the six you see here. Does that matter?”

  “No, I was just curious if she was known to you.”

  Raven nodded. “She helped you before, when the Half Elf was taken. I believe she gave you the location of the Dark One’s tower.”

  “She did, but not before she gave us a taste of her power.”

  Raven laughed. “She is not very social, a bit of an introvert you might say. I apologize for her disagreeable behavior. I assure you that the rest of us are much more hospitable.” The six witches stood before him each seductively posing, creating a striking effect. He knew they were trying to test his will by using their abundant feminine wiles on him.

  As K’xarr looked them over, he could see that their beauty could drive a man mad, but he saw nothing that made him think they would be of much use in battle, but he would humor them. It was very hard not to. “You should put your cloaks back on, the wall is cold.”

  “What are they doing on the wall, you know they have to be evil, K’xarr, are you mad?” Cromwell said. The Toran had little tolerance for magic. If there was anything Torans feared, it was magic, and Cromwell was no exception.

  “Let them cast their spells or drink their potions. I doubt it will bother Havalon much,” K’xarr replied.

  “Well, it bothers me,” Cromwell shot back.

  “He will attack in the morning, see how he is moving the towers into place?” K’xarr pointed to the large siege engines.

  The big man nodded. “Three thousand fools and six evil witches, we are dead.”

  K’xarr had to laugh. “It’s the best I could get on short notice; I couldn’t find any Toran clans walking the streets of Turill.”

  Cromwell shook his head. “I know, if you had we would not need anyone else.”

  ***

  Kian staggered through the forest looking for shelter. It was eerily silent. The winter had quieted the woodland. Bone tired he marched on, stumbling over the brush hidden in the deep snow.

  Near the end of his endurance Kian leaned against a tree to catch his breath. He had made it to the forest at last and it seemed the bad weather was breaking. Maybe his luck had changed.

  He saw a large dark spot in the snow ahead. Willing himself on, he walked towards it. As the swordsman got closer, he could see the spot was a vast hole in the forest floor. It was big enough to drive a coach inside. He jumped down into it to investigate the odd hollow.

  It was not much deeper than he stood, but the ground sloped down into the darkness like a tunnel. The hole was more like a cave, he thought, but not naturally formed, it appeared to have been dug out. He could see the roots of the great trees of the wood sticking down through its dirt ceiling.

  He walked on down into it until he could not see any more with the natural light from above. His cat-like eyes pierced the dark, he could tell the tunnel went on much farther than even he could see. The cave was warm compared to the frosty forest. Kian decided he would shelter in it for a while.

  He walked back out to the mouth of the dirt cave. The swordsman took flint and steel and tried to light a fire. In a few minutes he had a small blaze, fueled by some tree roots from the cave and his provisions bag.

  He left the shelter long enough to dig through the snow until he found some wood; it was wet, but he put it on the little fire anyway. He was too tired to worry about the blaze going out.

  Kian sat down and lay back against the rough dirt wall. The earthen cave smelled funny; that was the last thought he had before drifting off to sleep.

  ***

  “Here they come, archers to the ready,” K’xarr yelled.

  The witch, Raven, stood beside him, “I doubt you’ll need your archers, General.”

  “We are going to try and set fire to one of those siege towers before they get to the wall, so I think I will need my
archers,” K’xarr snapped.

  “We are the Reaper’s Sins, K’xarr Strom, we stood with the Lord of Death in a thousand battles when the Elves still ruled your world.” Raven’s voice rose, as she spoke the witch became almost frightening. “We have destroyed entire races, brought down empires. We are the Children of Death, stand and behold our power.”

  She turned back to face the oncoming siege tower. She signaled to the others who were spaced evenly along the northern wall. The witch raised her arms and a ball of fire appeared in her hands and began to grow larger and larger, until it could not have fit through the city gate; she spoke a word and brought her arms down, the ball flew through the air and hit the siege tower and it burst into flames. Molten liquid ran down the icy skins that covered the war engine, causing all it touched to burn.

  The screams of the company of men inside could be heard as they were burned alive, K’xarr watched as many of the soldiers jumped out of the tower to land in the deep snow, only to have the liquid fire from the burning tower come down on top of them.

  Havalon’s soldiers had stopped in their tracks, watching the powerful display of magic, it was a mistake. The other witches let loose a barrage of magic unseen for centuries. K’xarr watched as great flaming balls hurled by the women crashed into the Abberdonian ranks, large bolts of lightning ripped through steel and flesh, men and horses screamed in panic. The white-haired witch, Winter, seem to create huge spears of ice out of thin air some twenty feet long, and with a wave of her hand she caused them to fly into the enemy troops where they exploded in showers of white liquid so cold it turned all it touched to ice.

  Cromwell ran down the wall towards K’xarr. “What is this, General, what have we unleashed?”

  K’xarr couldn’t answer, he could only smile. He watched as the Abberdonian assault became a full retreat within minutes.

 

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