The Crowned (The Blood and Brotherhood Saga, Book 6) (11 page)

Always he reminded himself, when one cried out, repulsed by
what they had become, that without their sacrifice they would all fall to
Sigrant’s superior army. Again and again he repeated the process, sending the
completed warriors to the wall to stand guard. It was late in the day, the sky
already growing dim, when the first boulder struck the defensive wall
surrounding the city. He had completed some eight hundred new troops so far,
but was nowhere near ready for an attack.

Fleeing the building, leaving the altering children upon the
floor to fend for themselves when the process completed, he was joined by
Jonas.

“See to the children!” Seth shouted, before shedding his
cloak and leaping into the air to begin flapping his immense wings. A gust of
magical wind exploded below him, driving him up to the wall in an instant. Landing
heavily in his hurry, he arrived just in time to watch another boulder impact
the castle wall. Thus far, both hits had managed little effect, and so low on
the wall, where it was the thickest and strongest, it would take considerable
time to create a breach. Seth watched the next boulder fly, and throwing up a
magical gust of wind it fell just a few feet short of the wall, rolling to a
stop before making a scratch.

Peering into the darkness he could see near a hundred
different such mechanisms in different states of erection. Little auras
scrambled around the things, like ants upon a carcass. Within hours the war
machine would be joined by dozens more. By morning they would all be
functional. Seth knew he should do something about the machines. He could snuff
the life out of the workers manning them easy enough.

Just then a huge ball careened overhead, its shell
shattering as it struck a building beyond the wall. Oil exploded over
everything for a hundred feet in all directions, ignited by the very lamps the
city hung in the streets for light. Several buildings went up in flames in an
instant. From them, burning people leapt from the upper levels, and came
scurrying out from the ground levels.

Seth turned to lay waste to the war machines, but as he
reached out across the fields, the sky lit up as magical fireballs and ice came
hurling from afar, aimed at various locations upon Valdadore’s walls. Throwing
up a magical barrier instead to protect the defenders, he could not risk an
attempt to destroy the machines that might strain him. Sigrant had planned his
attack well.

Holding the magic at bay, there was no one to thwart the war
machines’ attack. Except for the king.

Chains clinked and wood groaned as the portcullis was raised,
and the massive door upon the western wall of the city swung wide. From inside
emerged the giant gleaming form of Garret’s body, for he alone was immune to
the bite of the monsters under Sigrant’s control. With a broad sword in one
hand and the shield Seth had created for him in the other, Seth watched his
brother’s giant form charge across the fields.

While his brother charged, another giant clay projectile
breached the city, setting yet another location on fire. Barrage after barrage
of magical blasts continued, but Seth held them at bay. The defenders upon the
wall could only watch, unable to do anything about the attack. Seth wanted to
seek out the mages and kill them, or kill the men controlling the machines, but
if he did his allies would be unprotected. “Sparing lives is all that matters,”
Seth reminded himself.

He waited and watched as Garret neared the machines, and was
immediately beset upon by the fire breathing beasts they had been warned about
when the news had first arrived of the invasion. They were hideous creatures,
even from the wall, with metal armor, glowing eyes, and gaping maws. Blasts of
fire reached out through the air from nearly a hundred locations, every one of
them turning their fiery breath on the king. His skin was like metal, and as
such he was immune to most harm, but not heat. Seth watched him raise his
shield, but the fire was not magical and as such was not absorbed. Garret was
in trouble, and once again Seth was forced to decide an impossible decision. Drop
his magical shield and leave his defenders in harm’s way to protect Garret, or
protect the defenders and watch his brother’s flesh melt from his bones. If
only Borrik had returned, the winged man could fly out and rescue the king, but
Seth had sent him away. Again the death of a loved one would be Seth’s fault.

Seth cringed at the thought. He hated the gods for the
impossible positions they put him in. Then it occurred to him. Instead of
protecting the men, simply make them disappear.

“Retreat!” Seth Yelled. “Flee your posts and take cover
behind the wall!”

His order was passed down the wall and in seconds the
various defenders began to vanish. Seth bid them to hurry, and dropping his
shield after a few moments more he reached out with tendrils of his power as he
leapt from the wall into the night. Locating the mages who continued to barrage
the city, he found them by seeking their god-infused auras. Their numbers had
been diminished greatly in the days previous, and as such Seth gripped them all
at once and stripped them of life in an instant before calling to life the
magical wind he still needed to stay aloft.

Soaring like the airborne missile that had struck him down
just a day before, Seth reached out to the beasts that breathed fire upon his
brother. Each of them had multiple auras that moved independently within the
creatures. Without time to examine them he grasped at those nearest and
stripped them away. Still the giant creatures remained, the fire continuing to
spew from their mouths. Seth imagined them some kind of demons, and watched as
Garret ran from the trails of fire that followed in his wake, threatening to
destroy the king. Swooping towards his brother, he shifted the wall of power
that held him aloft and directed it at one of the beasts.

Watching as he glided downward, the metallic beast leaned
over to one side, its fire stopping suddenly before it flipped the remainder of
the way over with yet another gust. A moment later the thing began to whistle
loudly as smoke poured from its every orifice. Then, without warning, the beast
exploded. Seth and Garret were both caught unaware by the blast, and Garret was
thrown from his feet. Seth, on the other hand received worse than his brother. From
the explosion, thousands of pieces of jagged steel blasted out in all
directions. One second he was aloft, the next great holes were blasted in his
wings, his abdomen, and his thigh.

Seth plummeted from the air, his body mending as he fell. He
flapped and flapped his wings but the injuries to them were so great he was
falling faster than he was healing. Calling upon his magical wind again he
tried to stay aloft, but barely managed to slow his fall. The further he fell
the slower he fell, but it became apparent quickly that he was not going to
land comfortably.

Slamming to the ground with a series of snaps as his bones
broke, puncturing out of his skin in several locations, Seth expected to be set
upon, and he was not mistaken. No sooner did he open his eyes after impact, than
a giant hand reached down, snatching his destroyed body up and off of the
ground. He imagined it was something like this that had happened to Sara. Shifting
his weight the best he was able, he was surprised to find himself in the hand
of his brother the king. Carried aloft, Seth’s body mended as his brother
rushed them back towards the castle. Before even making the massive gate, Seth
turned over and leapt from his brother’s hand, taking to the sky again.

Straight up to the top of the wall he soared. Without the
pesky mages throwing their magics into the city, and without Garret facing an
enemy he couldn’t fight out in the fields, Seth could finally get back to work.

Focusing his power, Seth unleashed a series of wicked green
and yellow fireballs to smash into the boulder-throwing war machines. Just as
he intended, the giant projectile-hurling mechanisms caught fire like kindling,
and became raging infernos within seconds. Out on the field, all of the
remaining fire-breathing beasts turned and strode away. Seth did not know what
they were, but he knew they were dangerous.

Searching the darkness with his vision of the gods, he was
unable to locate any immediate threats. Not that it mattered. Turning back
towards the city, Seth saw as over forty raging fires engulfed more than half
of the western side of the city. Tens of thousands of the elderly, women, and
children fought to contain the flames, but there was little they could do. Seth
could not be emotional about the massive destruction. Instead he needed to
focus on completing his mission. Buildings were just buildings. They could be
rebuilt.

Plunging down from the wall Seth landed lightly and folded
his wings around himself. It was time to get back to making his troops. There
was no way of telling when Sigrant might strike again, but Seth had an idea
what the foreign king was waiting for.

Already determining the wall was safe once more, the
defenders were streaming back up the wall to take their places as Seth entered
the alley that would take him back to the children who awaited him.

* * * * *

Borrik awoke feeling like hammered shit. His head pounded,
eyes throbbed, tongue feeling dry and swollen, and even the smallest movement
made him nauseated. Without so much as opening his eyes, he tried to recall
just what had happened to make him feel so ill. Much to his disappointment, all
he could seem to envision were roots, a tree that seemed to smile at him, and a
glimpse of the sky, before everything had went black. No help at all.

Half growling, half groaning, he attempted to push himself
to a seated position. His armor was gone. Somehow he must have been taken
prisoner. Against his need to see his surroundings, once seated, he was forced
to keep his eyes closed as the world swam in circles within his head,
threatening unconsciousness once again.

“Today I’ll be of no use to anyone,” he growled quietly to
himself.

“That is truly a shame, Borrik, I had hoped you could bring
me up to speed,” an all too familiar voice responded.

Borrik could not believe what he was hearing, and opening
his eyes for verification he realized that his initial desire to keep them
closed would have been preferred.

With pain lancing into his head, Borrik physically recoiled
from the blow, slamming onto his back, and roughly bouncing his head off the
stone floor. Once again, everything went black.

An unknown amount of time later, Borrik awoke once more. This
time around, he still felt like shit, but only his head felt hammered, not his
entire body.

With throbbing inside his skull he sat up, relieved that his
stomach did not respond with the need of forceful evacuation. Opening his eyes
cautiously, he was pleased to find himself greeted by Sara’s mischievous smile.
She was enjoying this entirely too much.

“Greetings, princess, I gather we are not dead.”

“No, Borrik, though you certainly smell like it,” she
replied, her smile broadening.

“You are in higher spirits than I expected. Who holds us
captive?”

“Considering what we have been through, I have been doing a
lot of thinking, Borrik. You are right, I am in good spirits, because you will
be reuniting me with my husband in death just as soon as you are physically
able, then you are free to go do whatever you like,” Sara responded.

Borrik wasn’t sure if he had heard her correctly, or if it
was the pounding in his head that prevented him from processing what she told
him, but in either case he was utterly confused.

“Sara, I don’t understand.”

“What’s not to understand? We. Are. Not. Prisoners,” she
continued emphasizing each word. “And. As. Soon. As. You. Kill. Me. You. Can.
Leave.”

Reaching up, Borrik was certain that this was the most
bizarre dream he had ever had, but raking his claws across the great goose egg
on the back of his head in an attempt to itch, the pain that exploded there
assured him that this was reality, no matter how twisted.

“Princess, you will not be dying by my hand. Not today, not
ever,” he replied with a fiendish grin.

“But, Borrik, I cannot bring myself to do it myself.”

“Good thing too, cause Seth would be pissed if I didn’t
bring you back like I promised.”

Borrik was in no way expecting what came next from the tiny
woman.

Like lightning she sprang across the small chamber, landing
upon him bodily, plunging her fingers deep beneath his flesh, grasping his
windpipe in one hand and shoulder in the other. A wicked snarl split her face
where rage seethed from every ounce of her expression.

“We may have history, beast, but jokes such as those could be
your last! I may not be able to kill myself, but toy with me and I will not
hesitate to destroy you! she screamed into his face, her fangs flashing and
spittle spraying upon him.

Instinct, especially his feral side, told him to fight. Kill
the woman. Save himself. But his loyalty and understanding proved the stronger.
Keeping very still and very calm, he replied the best as he was able with the
pressure around his vocal chords.

“I speak true, Sara, he has returned from the dead, though I
don’t understand how.”

He watched the hatred slowly fade from her features as her
mouth worked as if to talk, but no sound escaped. She removed her hands, and
Borrik’s wounds began closing. Stumbling back a few steps, her mouth hung open
a moment before she spoke again in a voice that sounded far away, broken, and
perhaps a little scared.

“If he has returned, then why not come for me himself?” she
asked somewhat meekly.

“He said Ishanya forbid it. He stands with his brother to
hold Valdadore Castle, but I fear the king has lost hope.”

“And Seth?”

“Your return would do him much good, but I warn you,
princess, his return did not come without a cost. Something about him has
changed too, though I do not yet know what.”