Gods Of Blood And Fire (Book 1)

by A. J. STRICKLER

“I didn’t do anything. Everyone needs to calm down and…” A crash from inside the gatehouse startled them. They all froze and looked at one another as Kian staggered out and leaned against the doorway of the gatehouse. His skin had the pallor of a corpse. He was dressed only in a pair of leggings and spittle dangled from his lips like a thirsty hound. He clutched his stomach and winced in pain. He seemed about to convulse again, but K’xarr saw his knuckles turn white as he clutched at the doorway. He let go of his stomach and stood up a little straighter, mouth quivering he spoke. “Get me dressed.”

  Rhys’ mouth opened and closed.

  Endra shook her self loose of K’xarr and went to Kian. “You must lie down, the shadow of death is still on your face.”

  “No, get my clothing and sword. I need water as well.” Kian’s speech was slurred and halted, but he was very clear on what he wanted.

  Endra looked at Rhys for help. The healer could only stare at his patient. Kian’s startling improvement had confounded him. “It’s impossible, he should be dead, maybe that unique body of his is fighting off the poison I don’t know, just get him the water.” Rhys helped Kian sit down and lean back against the wall of the gatehouse as Endra fetched the water. “You’re very weak, you should rest even if the poison isn’t killing you.”

  Kian looked at the healer, there was agony on his face. Rhys had never seen anyone endure this kind of pain before. The healer wondered what coping with it was doing to the warrior’s mind. After his brother and the vivisectionist had their way with him, Kian had been close to insanity. This misery could not be good for the Half Elf’s fragile mind.

  “There is no time to rest, Rhys. K’xarr said I’m needed. I will not fail him or any of you.”

  “You don’t need to worry about any of that now. K’xarr and Sir Ivan have everything under control.”

  “I will do my part, just get me on my feet.”

  They gave him as much water as he could drink and he sat in the shade with his eyes closed. Endra put on his clothing and bracers. She handed Malice to him. Kian gazed at the blade and felt its edge. The sword seemed to bring him strength.

  Late in the afternoon, he could stand on his own and he had stopped shaking. Rhys was not convinced he could walk, but K’xarr kept coaxing Kian on and telling him he was fine until Rhys could take no more of it.

  “K’xarr, a word please.” Rhys said through gritted teeth.

  “What is it?”

  Rhys tried to contain his aggravation. “He can’t fight, he can barely stand. Somehow he his fighting off the poison, but he can’t go with you when the fighting starts, he will be killed. I don’t think he could even defend himself. I know you can see how weak he is, why do you keep egging him on?”

  The general took Rhys by the arm and walked him far enough away from the gatehouse that he thought Kian couldn’t hear him. “I know what his condition is and it is unfortunate that he is weak and sick, but we must make Cain’s men think he is sound. He strikes fear in their hearts, it an advantage and I need every one I can get.

  “Cain’s men have heard what happened in the south with Havalon and the Princes by now. I need that edge, we could still lose this war, Rhys, and the woman you love will die if that happens. Now you think about that and give Kian something that will keep him on his feet long enough to go out there. I will do my best to keep him away from any real fighting.”

  Rhys looked away from the general. It was not in the healer’s nature, and it hurt his soul to help K’xarr use the sick man that way, but he loved Raygan more than his principles. K’xarr was harsh, but he was most likely right. If Cain took the city, he would kill his sister. Rhys knew he could never live with that. “I have something that will help a bit, but you have to promise when the real fighting starts you will keep him out of it. I will not have his death on my conscience. I mean it, K’xarr, keep him out of the battle.”

  K’xarr clapped the surgeon on the shoulder. “I’ll do my best, you know that.”

  ***

  Milara had told Cain and Duke Blackthorn the assassination attempt had failed. Neither the Prince nor the duke had taken news well, but both had kept their anger to themselves. It was the first time Zachariah had not completed a mission the Lord Justice had assigned him. The failure had a silver lining though.

  The assassin told him he had killed an old rival of his that had been guarding the Queen. When Milara had asked for a description of the man, the Lord Justice realized his assassin had killed the creature. Zachariah had seemed confused when he had explained to the killer that he had mistaken the man’s identity. Milara didn’t care if the slow-witted Hand understood or not as far as he was concerned; it was more of a victory than killing the Queen. The half-breed was one of the reasons he had been sent here in the first place. The Church really had little interest in who ruled Bandara, though Cain was the only choice now. The Queen’s friends were far too dangerous. They would have to die. The Church meant to eradicate anyone with the blood. The Queen would need to be silenced as well, just for her knowledge of them. Some things must be kept secret, no matter what the cost.

  He would wait and see the outcome of the impending battle, then choose his next move. He hoped Cain and his army would take care of the problem for him. If not, he would have to find a way to do it himself.

  Cain sat on the phoenix throne, fuming about the failed attempt on Raygan’s life. “She is going to die, but first I will make her suffer. Duke Blackthorn, you and I will take half the men. Lord Bradford and Lord Fox will take the other half and begin the attack. While the little whore’s soldiers are busy with them, we will work our way behind their line and attack the southern gatehouse. Then I will kill my sister with my own hands. She will not escape me like she did that incompetent assassin.”

  William Blackthorn didn’t like the plan, it was foolish to split their forces when they outnumbered the Asconans two to one, but Cain was obsessed with killing his sister now. “Are you sure that is what you want to do, Majesty, we outnumber them and we know the city far better, let them come to us. We can slaughter them as they try and work their way to us. We can have archers on every rooftop, barricade the streets, and funnel them right to us and destroy them when and where we choose.”

  The Prince slapped the arm of the throne. “They have taken your son prisoner. She had her monster slaughter our men and the Knights of Deliverance on the palace steps and you want to wait?”

  “Just an idea, Highness. An alternate plan, you might say.”

  “No, Duke Blackthorn, you have your orders. Just tell Fox and Bradford to start the attack, but first I want a company of men to burn that damn garden to the ground. I want her to see it burn before she dies. I want her to know of its destruction. It is the thing that will hurt her the most. Tell them I don’t want so much as a blade of grass left standing.”

  William knew there was no reasoning with the Prince, that time was past. It was best to follow Cain’s plan and hope the Prince was killed in battle. Then he could take charge of the army and drive Raygan out of the city. They still had the numbers and Milara had told them his man had killed the Half Elf.

  The death of the demonic swordsman would bolster the men’s courage. Things might just turn out yet, but he was starting to worry. All his deals had fallen though. Tavantis, the Illairians, none of it had went as he had planned it. Now he had to contend with an insane monarch. He thought he might have to hold off on his plan to seize Bandara for the Blackthorn family and make sure he came out of all this alive. After all, that was the most important thing.

  Cain’s men began pouring barrels of pitch and oil throughout the palace grounds. The ground was saturated with it before a company of Asconans saw what they were up to. The knights charged Cain’s Bandarans and the Battle for Turill began, inside the Queen’s beloved gardens.

  ***

  Night was quickly falling as K’xarr helped Kian to the front. The general had the Half Elf’s arm around his neck as the two hurried along. “The fightin
g has started near the palace, once we are up there, let them see you and then just drop back and find a place to hide until it’s over. Just knowing you still live should do the trick.

  “I think you should let me walk on my own then.” K’xarr let go of the Half Elf, Kian started to topple over but the general grabbed him by the arm and let him get his balance.

  The swordsman pushed K’xarr’s arm away. “I will be fine. Where is Endra?”

  “I sent her to help Rufio, she wouldn’t be any good to us here being a nursemaid to you.”

  Kian shook his head trying to clear it. “You made the right decision. Endra lets her feelings rule her actions, not always a good thing.”

  “You should have seen her, it was like try to give orders to a mule. I had to all but drag her up to Rufio’s position.”

  “She will be safe with Rufio. I know he will do his best to see she comes to no harm.”

  K’xarr poked his finger in Kian’s chest. “I have orders from Rhys and Endra to do the same for you. So no heroics tonight, understand?”

  “I’m not feeling very heroic K’xarr. You should have nothing to worry about.”

  The sound of battle got louder as they turned toward the palace. Both warriors could tell that the fighting was beginning to spread throughout the city.

  As they closed on the palace, K’xarr stopped. “I know I’m asking a great deal from you tonight, my friend. Just know that you have my respect and my thanks, no matter how this ends.” The general clapped Kian on the shoulder. “We have come a long way from Thieves Port, half-breed.”

  Kian slowly drew Malice from it scabbard. “It feels like a long way.”

  K’xarr saw Cromwell shouting orders near the gardens short wall. A large section of the wall’s stones had been knocked over, making a large gap. “There you are, General. I… By the Gods of Blood and Fire, Kian I thought you were dead.”

  “Not just yet,” the Half Elf said. Kian walked past the two men and stood by the wall surveying the lines of battle through the breach.

  “He looks bad, K’xarr, what’s he doing up here?”

  K’xarr looked at the big man. “I hope spreading a little fear. Stay with him and don’t let him get into the fighting, he’s just for show today understand?”

  Cromwell smiled. “I see. I won’t let him get a scratch. Hey, the Prince’s men are trying to burn the garden, there is pitch and oil everywhere, watch where you stand.” K’xarr drew his sword and followed Cromwell into the garden. They were leading Kian to the front lines just as the first fires started.

  The battle went on through the night all over the city. There were small clashes in alleys and large fights in the streets. It was a bloody night for Turill. The heaviest fight was around the palace. The fire in the royal gardens had spread into the eastern side of the city. It made the fighting hot, but the men on both sides could see better because of the blaze’s shadowy glow. “Endra, take a break, let the men catch their breath. Cain’s men will make another go at us in a moment,” Rufio ordered.

  The woman pulled the helmet from her head and ran a hand through her thick hair. “We need to get to the palace, it’s where it looks like we would be of the most use.”

  Rufio looked at Endra, leaning on her sword, hair wet with sweat. She had given birth less than a month ago. Now the woman from Sorrack stood her ground here with him. “I know that is where it looks like we should be Endra, but our orders are to stand fast here.” She was a beauty, and the woman had the makings of a good soldier. She had an eye for it. The Dragitan turned his head quickly to the north. He heard them coming before he saw them. A company of the Prince’s Bandarans were coming out of the shadows. They looked to be a fresh group. “They mean to break through us. Hold the line men,” Rufio commanded. The Asconans closed their ranks behind Endra and the Dragitan captain and waited for the assault.

  ***

  Lord Bradford thought one more charge would do it. The King had ordered attacks on K’xarr’s forces in the south. Cain was throwing away a lot of men just so he could get at his sister, Bradford thought. The King didn’t understand that the Asconans didn’t give ground so easy. This time however he had a fresh company and he would lead the charge himself.

  He was not lacking in skill, his father had seen to that. The wealthy nobleman had sent his son to all the finest instructors in Bandara. Lord Bradford had enjoyed the training and had always fared well in the King’s tournaments. King Aaron himself had commended him on his actions during the border clashes with the Abberdonians. He was a man of action, unlike many of the other Bandaran nobles, and now he would show these upstarts what it was like when they faced a true Lord of Bandara.

  As they moved forward, Lord Bradford saw the leader of the company who blocked their way. The officer stood in front of his men, barking orders. The man wasn’t tall and he was dressed in armor of a Dragitan cavalryman. He would personally see to this Dragitan’s death. Without direction the Asconans might not be so tough to break.

  Sweat dripped down Bradford’s face, it was hot inside his helmet and he dearly hated to sweat. Even as a child, he had never like to feel the wet drip down his face and body, making his clothing stick to him. No, he had never liked it. It was the heat from the fires. The act was just foolish, there was no reason for it other than Cain’s need to hurt his sister and to make him sweat.

  He signaled the charge. Bradford headed straight for the Dragitan Commander as he and his men surged forward. The shorter man did not see him coming. As the Dragitan turned, Bradford delivered a blow to the enemy captain’s head knocking him to the ground. The man tried to rise, but the Bandaran Lord kicked him back down. Bradford grinned inside his helmet as he spun his sword so he could thrust it through the Dragitan’s chest. Then Lord Bradford noticed something was amiss, his arm had fallen to the ground.

  He looked down at it confused. It was his arm alright; he could see his sword clutched in the hand. What had happened?

  When he looked up he saw a female warrior, dark hair falling from beneath her helmet and a bloody sword in her hand. Did she do this to him?

  He felt his groin go wet. The Bandaran Lord looked down; he had forgotten the Dragitan lying on the ground. The man had driven his short sword up between his legs.

  The Lord staggered and screamed in pain. They were killing him, he thought, as the woman’s sword took off one of his legs at the knee. He fell to the ground and couldn’t get up.

  Lord Bradford could not understand what was happening. His brain would not allow it. The woman reached down and ripped the helmet from his head. He blinked his eyes at her, still bewildered. He was cold now and had stopped sweating, that was good he thought. The last thing he saw was the point of her sword coming down.

  Endra pulled Rufio to his feet. “Are you alright?” Blood ran down Rufio’s face. He took off his helmet, there was a nasty gash on his head. He turned the horse-hair crested helmet over in his hands reverently. Bradford’s great sword had sliced into the metal. “Thank the Gods for Dragitan steel.”

  Endra looked at the battered helmet. “You need a new one.”

  Rufio strapped the helmet back on his head. “Not on your life.” Endra pulled her bastard sword from Lord Bradford’s face and the two reentered the fray.

  Kian propped himself against the garden wall, he had thrown up three times, but no one had seen him do it. He had followed K’xarr and Cromwell into the battle then drifted back as they had planned.

  Now he sat with his back against the wall, listening to the fight inside the garden. The struggle had gotten brutal, men screamed as they were forced into the raging fire that swept through the Queen’s garden. Swords clashed on shields and he could hear the twang of the crossbows. K’xarr and the Asconans were outnumbered here and the battle could easily go wrong for the young general.

  He looked at the sky, watching the smoke rise. With his vision, it looked like shadows floating across the night. He pulled Malice from its sheath. Kian stared at the strange s
teel, he could feel its lust for battle. It was evil, he knew it, and yet he did not rid himself of the hateful thing. What would Gildor think of him now? He stood and shook his dark hair back and stumbled towards the battle.

  ***

  Cromwell ripped his ax from the dead man on the ground and kicked the body. “How many of these bastards do we have to kill?”

  “All of them, I guess.” K’xarr looked out through the blazing garden. “Let’s try and cut the head from the snake. Follow me.”

  The Asconans standing nearby saw K’xarr and Cromwell begin to hack their way through the Bandaran’s line. They renewed their attack and followed the two men into the heart of the enemy. K’xarr quickly saw what he was after. He wore the fine armor of a Bandaran Lord, and on his tabard was the crest of a fox tearing out a hound’s throat. “There he is, Cromwell, get me to him.”

  The huge man butted a soldier with his shoulder and his ax whistled down, shearing through another man’s collar bone into his chest. The hulking Toran began clearing a bloody path for K’xarr. In moments, the sullen-eyed barbarian had opened the way for his friend.

  “Kill that son of a whore, K’xarr,” Cromwell shouted as the general passed him. K’xarr smiled grimly and headed straight for the Bandaran Lord.

  Tobias Fox saw the man rushing towards him. The Lord’s two bodyguards launched themselves at the Camiran. K’xarr blocked both men’s attacks, then kicked the legs out from under one as his sword hammered into the other’s neck, half severing his head.

  Turning swiftly, the general rained down several blows on the man he had tripped, until the bodyguard stopped moving.

  Tobias Fox dropped his sword and raised his hands. “I’m done with this madness. I yield to the Queen’s mercy.”

  K’xarr smirked. “The Queen is not here and I have no mercy.” K’xarr’s sword came down on top of Fox’s head, cutting through his helmet and into his scalp. The force of the blow shattered his skull. The Lord of the North fell to the ground. He twitched for a moment then laid still.

  K’xarr had little time to gloat. The line had closed behind them. He and Cromwell’s retreat had been cut off. The remaining Asconans that had followed them were caught with them as well.