The Crowned (The Blood and Brotherhood Saga, Book 6) (12 page)

“Then we must go at once, how fast can we get back to the
castle?

“By wing I made it to the edge of the forest in the better
part of a day, flying from before sunrise until nearly sunset.”

“And if you had to carry me?” Sara asked.

“A day and a night, perhaps?”

“Then fly me to the edge of the forest, from there I will
run.”

“My princess, you will never be able to keep pace,” Borrik cautioned.

“Don’t be so sure, Borrik, Seth is not the only one who has
changed since last you saw him. I grow more powerful by the minute. Besides,
night is approaching quickly, if we leave now we can make Valdadore by morning.”

* * * * *

Leading nearly two thousand blessed Dwarven warriors upon
the backs of dire wolf mounts, oddly left Zorbin a fair amount of time to
think. Throughout much of the day he had remained alert, afraid that they could
run into some other unforeseen force. Yet after hours and hours of searching
the ground, sky, trees, rocks, and everything else, all he noted were various
animal prints upon the soil. The largest of these prints belonged to a pair of
great cats that seemed to have traveled in the same basic direction they too
now traveled. He had seen the tracks several times throughout the day, and had become
quite good at picking them out upon the ground, even bounding at great speeds
upon Xanth.

Finally allowing his mind and eyes to rest a bit, he thought
briefly about the months passed as evening turned into night around him. Much
had befallen him in the past months, but were he being honest he could easily
say that among those he was familiar with,
he
had it the easiest.

Though he had lost many brothers in arms, and his leader and
mentor Sirus, he at least was lucky enough to not have lost any family up until
today. His uncle Ikor had fallen during the battle with the giants. Two cousins
too, though he only recognized them by the emblems on their armor, assuming
they were significantly younger than he.

His companion, Linaya, had lost her father, her mother, and
now, if they were not too late, they raced to save the man she loved before he
too was taken from her. He wanted to come to Garret’s aid just as bad as she. Garret
had been Zorbin’s very first friend in Valdadore, and even now that he was the
king he treated Zorbin like a trusted friend and advisor, going so far as to trust
him with the woman he loved.

Though he was happy to have been given this opportunity, not
only to bring aid, but also visit his ancestral home, he was glad they were
headed back to Valdadore. Even if it
was
being invaded by another
kingdom. This mission had done a lot for Zorbin. Finally, after years of being
an outcast, some considering him a traitor to his race, he could walk among
them proudly. The word of his honorable decline to the throne had spread and it
seemed the Dwarven nation approved of his decision. The men following him now
were not his men, but they had each volunteered to ride ahead and lend aid
under his leadership. To Zorbin, those actions spoke much louder than words. If
nothing else, visiting his childhood home in this fashion had given him
closure. Even if he lived another six hundred years, and never managed to
travel to Bouldergate again, he felt comfortable in the fact that his history
recorded among the dwarves would be a favorable one.

Nodding to himself with a harrumph of satisfaction, Zorbin
shifted in his saddle as darkness settled around him and the thundering army
behind him. He would lead the men to the best of his ability. Urging Xanth to
slow slightly, the Dwarven knight of Valdadore planned to press on through the
night at a reduced pace for the safety of his men. If any of them were to die,
it should be in battle, not falling from a mount.

It was late in the night, only hours from morning, when Seth
melded the last of his drafted child troops with the large species of rats that
were an abundant commodity within Valdadore. Though they were still children at
heart, his newest troops had taken on many aspects of the creatures that he
blended their life forces with.

Like the vampires they would be facing, Seth’s new troops
could jump unbelievably high. Like their enemies, they too could climb vertical
surfaces. Their night vision was vastly improved as well. They were stronger,
faster, and more agile than their human counterparts. In fact, they had
exceeded most of Seth’s hopes in many ways. Whereas the bloodthirsty troops
belonging to Sigrant could bite and infect someone, these new hybrids could
chew through concrete. So strong were their jaws and teeth that they could
literally snap bones with a single bite, or hang from their mouth like the dogs
some trained to fight in pits for sport.

The process had been an odd one for Seth. Changing children
was difficult for him. It felt more than a little immoral. Many of the children
came into the room with him frightened out of their minds. Seth had arranged
for them to hear that perhaps he was a god, and everyone in the presence of a
god should be frightened as far as Seth as concerned. Nonetheless, even after
he told them that he served Ishanya, as he had sworn an oath to do, some of the
new feral troops came to accept him as their deity. Others accepted Ishanya,
and the vast majority left the transformation not sworn to any god. Seth was
satisfied with the results.

Thanking Jonas for ‘spreading the good word’ for him before
the kids had entered, he stepped out into the darkness that was rapidly
becoming day once more with yet more to do. The night previous he had sent a
request to the temple of Ishanya here within the city. From its patrons he
sought the donation of a few thousand copper coins. Beyond that he requested
that each coin have a hole punched in it and be placed on a cord like a
medallion.

The necklaces had been delivered less than two hours later,
the following of Ishanya having spread like a disease in the last months. Rounding
the corner of the building, Jonas following in his step, he greeted the
remainder of his wolf troops and grinned, satisfied with what they had done. Before
him stood a table, probably confiscated from a merchant. Upon the table the
coins on strings had been carefully laid out so as to not tangle with one
another. The task had obviously been tedious, but they had painstakingly
completed it to make his job easier.

Deciding upon the exact process he would use, Seth waved his
hand over the table and the thousands of coins changed in the wake of his hand.
Each of them instantly smoothed, and upon them the sigil of a wolf head
appeared before the coins turned black as night, the various colored cords
changing color as well.

Beyond the table and the wolves, every one of his new rat
hybrids stood and as the coins changed they
ooh’d
and
aah’d
. But
that was only the beginning of what he had in store. In the hours of changing
the children into beasts, he had come upon an idea. Usually when imbuing
something, he had to carefully, painstakingly draw out a thread of power from
himself and form it into invisible runes, which he then placed upon an item or
person before infusing the rune with power to sustain the effect he wanted it
to have. But repeating the same process time and again with the children had
made him wonder at the possibilities of a more practical way of imbuing a vast
number of items at once.

With nothing but a thought, as no one around him would
notice the change, Seth magically smoothed and then carved into the tip of his
thumb a small channel that represented the rune he wished, only backwards. Then
lifting the first of the insignia medallions he had just transformed, he
pinched it between his thumb and forefinger lightly before filling the small
void created by the channel in his thumb with magical power and whispering,
“Seth, save me”. Just as he had hoped, the symbol was stamped upon the coin
perfectly. It was a simple rune. One he had seen upon an enchanted hammer he
had studied in the hidden room within Ishanya’s temple, what felt like a
lifetime ago. Testing the rune at that time, it appeared to do nothing. Now
Seth knew different. The reason it had not worked with the relic, was because
the symbol had been bound to something that no longer existed.

One by one Seth picked up the small insignias, and one by
one he imbued them before handing them out to his new soldiers a dozen or so at
a time. Then, having received their insignias, they were guided to Jonas to be
taught how to invoke the medallions.

* * * * *

Jonas had been given fairly specific instructions, but
something told him that Seth’s wink when giving the instructions meant that he
wanted something different than he said. Of course,
logic
said,
do
exactly as Seth told you
, and his head said,
do what you think is right
.
For Jonas, with a heart that was largely feral, the contradiction was simple to
work out. So instead of using the word Ishanya, who as far as his wolf mind was
concerned was a ghost, he replaced it with Seth, who he knew to be true and
real. Therefore, when the first group of rodent kids arrived with their shiny
new medallions he told them
almost
exactly what Seth had wanted.

“This is very important,” Jonas explained in a half growl.
“Your medallions are only to be used if you are in dire need, if you are
injured, surrounded, or if Prince Seth calls for you to regroup or retreat. When
that time comes, if you have no other option, reach up and clasp your pendant
and repeat… Not now you fools… If you are about to be killed… Clasp your
pendant and say
Seth,
save me’
, and you will be saved.”

Jonas looked over to be sure Seth was preoccupied with the
next bunch of rat troops.

“Keep in mind, folks, they will only work if you truly
accept
Prince Seth
as the one true god.” He added the last part to them
in a near whisper.

Jonas could almost swear that Seth had cocked his head
slightly as if to listen, and when his master turned to point the next group
over to Jonas he had a crooked grin on his face. All the giant, mottle-colored
werewolf could do was accept that as his master’s approval, and repeat the
message over and over and over again until the last of the new troops were
prepared.

* * * * *

Finished with his new troops, Seth took up the remaining
necklaces and imbued each one before shoving nearly twenty of them in a pouch
upon his belt for safe keeping. Then kneeling upon the ground, he pulled a
thread of power from his own aura and carefully constructed a rune upon the
cobbles of the road. Ahead of him the great western gate of the city stood, and
beginning in just a few hours the healers would inhabit the tents that stood to
either side of the gate.

It was a slow process, drawing runes this way, but even so,
Seth took his time to complete it. This rune was vastly more complex, not
something he would dare to mass produce as he had just done. After nearly an
hour of constant focus he bound the rune to the road, and rising he released a
torrent of power into the rune to be sure it lasted and served its purpose.

Nearly finished, Seth reached out with his power, both atop
the western wall and even here within his own pouch and located each of the thousands
of runes he had created this night. With a single thought, he fused them all
with enough power to perform at least three times. Satisfied, he turned away
from the invisible rune upon the ground as his tendrils of power recoiled. It
was at that very moment that Seth, overcome, collapsed to his knees, his head
tilting upwards to the heavens as tears began to flow from his eyes unchecked.

* * * * *

Garret strode down the street, a mass of knotted muscles. His
talk with Seth had not gone as he had intended, making him wonder how he really
was feeling about his sibling. He had had no intentions of coming off so angry,
but what was said was not untrue. Seth’s actions had cost everyone. Even so,
Garret did not leave the conflict feeling good about what had transpired and so
had left seeking some solace to sit and think for a while.

Rounding the corner of the castle complex, Garret eyed his
destination with awe. The building itself was inspiring, but the feeling he
felt within it could not be matched. Entering the temple devoted to Gorandor,
Garret quickly found himself a pew after several nods from other attendees.

Even with so many people within the building, he could feel
alone here with both his thoughts and his god. It was a soothing feeling. One
that he thoroughly enjoyed for several minutes before eventually his mind began
to spin, throwing thoughts and ideas at him, apparently deciding that this
particular time would not best be spent just sitting idly.

He could not help but think about all the things he had been
trying to shove from his mind. He had lost more than anyone should have to bear
in a very short time. First the king he served had been taken, and his friend
and mentor Sirus too. Seth had killed them. Sure it was an accident, but
nonetheless they might have survived if not for Seth. For a while he even
believed that Seth and Sara had died, also Seth’s doing, but it had turned out
that they were okay. At least for the most part. Both had returned to Valdadore
changed, and neither of them for the better. In the time they were gone he had
lost his freedom, having been nearly shoved into the position as king. Sure,
there were many that wanted the title, but alas it was given up to Garret to
shoulder the strife that came with a kingdom apparently condemned to ceaseless
war. He lost his father and Jack, and even Rose died, and to this day Garret
did not know how, he only knew that she was unaccounted for. All three of them
likely died because of Seth. Dad and Jack for certain. As if that were not
enough, Seth was killed.
Again
. And Garret had lost everyone he had
loved. Sure, Seth came back, but not really.
Seth
had been gone a while.
This Seth was not the man Garret had grown up with. That much was certain.