The God Warriors (17 page)

"Where are your men, Captain? We have what looks like a full tribe of Sotar outside the gates and some huge black horse. It may take all of us to hold them back until reinforcements arrive from the barracks," shouted the general back at John.

"They were at the training grounds with Alvaldi's men while he and I toured the wizards’ guildhall."

"Well, don't worry about it, then, for now. Both of you stay near me, and I'm sure your men will catch up sooner or later. Now, I don't know if…" and the general paused as he stared at John's face with eyes growing wider by the second.

[What is outside, are my gifts to you, Champion. You might wish to collect them before they scare the general even more.] The amused voice of Shianna filled his head.

Thank you, Shianna.

"Do you realize one of your god marks was glowing brighter than normal? It was the mark of the Goddess Shianna."

"No, but it doesn't surprise me, General. I was just talking to her. Ah, perhaps the men can stand down. Shianna informs me that those outside the gate are her presents to me." John grinned sheepishly as the general stared at him, dumbfounded, then turned and started shouting for everyone to quiet down, then he turned back to John.

"Let me get this straight. An entire tribe of Sotar warriors—we are talking at least twenty-five hundred men and women here—and the largest horse I have ever seen in my life, that must stand over twenty hands high and is obviously not of this world, are presents from the Goddess Shianna?" The general looked shocked then leaned closer to whisper. "I swear that horse's eyes glow red, and there's something on its forehead."

"Yes, Sir. According to Shianna, they are gifts. By the way, simply address her as Shianna; she says she doesn't stand on all that formality nonsense." John smiled innocently and shrugged as the general simply shook his head.

"Well, by all means John, let's not keep your gifts waiting. Open the gates one at a time. Sir John the Champion and I will be the only ones exiting the gate!" he shouted to everyone near them, then walked with John over to the iron grate and waited. Within a minute, it started to rise and the two stepped through along with Alvaldi, who wasn't about to be left behind. The general gave him the eye but said nothing as they walked to the next gate. Behind them, the previous gate fully lowered before the middle grate started to ascend.

They were soon outside the walls, and as John and the general came to a stop, Alvaldi took up a defensive stance beside them, body sideways and right hand on sword hilt, trying to look in three directions at once. The two Lorr wolves stood beside them, one on John's side and the other next to the general. What happened next surprised them all, including the men atop the parapet, which lined the walls on each side of the gate.

With a speed that amazed him, the men and women of the Sotar drew their long knives, each a wavy bladed dagger approximately a foot long, while simultaneously dropping to their right knee and crossing their arms, blade tips pointed upward. Instinctively, John knew this was the Sotar form of saluting someone with honor and respect. And then, the greatest surprise of all came. The huge coal black horse that did indeed have glowing red eyes (the general was correct) dropped to one knee and bowed his neck, muzzle almost touching the ground. On its forehead, a glowing symbol blazed as bright as day, that of the Goddess Shianna, the wavy bladed dagger pointing downward. John had to admit the glowing symbol looked great on the huge beast, which must have been a full five or six hands higher than the largest horse he had ever seen before in his life.

"I think they are waiting for you to tell them to rise, John." whispered Alvaldi as he and the general stood dumbfounded.

"Right! Rise, Sotar, and have your leader approach me," he called out, and like a wave, the assembled host of slightly short, heavily muscled, and barely clothed men and women rose, sheathing their long daggers. As one of the older men approached, the horse stepped to John, lowering his head. John knew this animal must have weighed three quarters of a ton. He stood still as the giant head tilted. Inching forward a bit more, their foreheads touched.

Electricity crackled through his body, and in that instant, John knew that huge horse was his and that they had just imprinted upon one another. Tears filled his eyes. He reached up to hug the great neck, his arms barely able to circle its girth. Next to his ear, the great horse's nostrils flared and snorted softly as a multitude of feelings suffused both man and beast. Love, determination, commitment, and dedication, all those and more passed between the two before they parted. Only then did John see the saddle and tack gear that adorned the massive steed.

[I see you are suitably impressed with my present. His name is Shadow. He is known as a Death Steed,] the goddess stated calmly. There might even have been a hint of warmth in the tone of her thought.

Wow, just wow! Where did you get him, and how much energy did it cost if he's not of this world? I don't wish you to wear yourself out. I have a feeling you'll need your energy in the months and years to come, Shianna.

[He is not of this world, but from another that is now a dead body orbiting a star far away. I collected a herd of these long ago and kept them in my domain. If a direct transfer occurred from the planet in that dimension to this one, then the cost would have been high, indeed. However, transferring from my realm to Corvalis required only a minimal expenditure of power. Now, as you have pledged to us gods to do our bidding, I will pledge to you that if you succeed in victory in the coming battle, I will transfer a mare for this stallion that you might breed her sparingly, the offspring only given to your children. They will only bond with those whose character they like.]

Shianna, I don't know what to say. This is too much.

[Not so. I have a good feeling about you, Champion. Unlike the last one from centuries ago, you have common sense and care about the people you command. One last thing, Shadow is not like a normal horse. His breed is comprised of flesh and blood but also high-density silicone. He is almost indestructible and will regenerate a missing limb if need be. He will eat what the horses there eat, but be not surprised if you find him chewing and devouring certain rocks, as he needs that form of nourishment also. This tribe of Sotar before you is yours to command. They will be your bodyguards and follow every order you give them. More Sotar will arrive as they are needed. This Sotar beside you is Ulf, and he is the Nas of Sarth.]

I thank you!
And the conversation was over. Shianna was not one for polite talk. When she said what she needed to say, she simply left.

John turned from Shadow after giving him an affectionate caress along his cheek and faced the deeply tanned older Sotar beside him. Tattoos covered what looked like every inch of his body, and when he saw that John was looking at him, he saluted again, though this time his people did not. They simply stared and watched. The two Lorr wolves were lying next to the huge hoofs of the great steed, panting slightly, watching the surroundings.

"Greetings Ulf, Nas of Sarth, I would have you rise," he said, fluently speaking the northeastern dialect of the Sotar language. A murmur rose from the assembled Sotar host when they heard him speak, and Ulf looked up, rising, once again sheathing his weapons.

"Greetings, Champion of Shianna, Goddess of Death," replied the man. "Command us."

"One moment, Ulf," said John then turned to the general."Where do I put them, Sir?" he asked, shrugging helplessly.

"Put who, Captain, the Sotar or the horse? Perhaps you'd best fill me in on what's going on here."

John started speaking and the general’s eyes grew wider and wider as John’s experience from the last few minutes were  recounted, including the impressions from the Death Steed and innate knowledge of the Sotar that he never knew he had. Finally, John was finished, and Galot nodded thoughtfully.

"Alright, they can stay in the guest barracks for visiting dignitary's guards. It's empty right now, but be warned, there is only room for about a thousand. Not sure where we'll put the rest, but we'll figure something out." He paused, then said, "I could say I'm taking a big chance here, but I know the Sotar rather well. They are honorable."

"There is no need for more space, General" spoke Ulf in Korath. "The champion’s warriors will sleep where they can and when they can. Our goddess has not chosen a champion in eons. Several thousand years at least, meaning this one is special." He pointed at John and continued. "Also, by our word of honor, when the champion is in residence in Korath City, we of the Sotar will also protect that city with our lives.

"I expected no less," responded the general gruffly. He then turned to John and remarked, "I didn't know you spoke Sotar."

"I speak all languages, General, and all dialects of those languages," John replied.

"The gift of tongues, then. Figures." Now Galot looked at John and pointed. "You and me. Later in my offices, at eight bells after midday."

"Yes, Sir," John responded, turning to walk forward into the horde of the peoples of Sotar to get to know them.

Thorvald grinned amidst his shaggy beard as he reviewed the reports crossing his new desk. The old one had been carted away two weeks ago, when he inadvertently destroyed it to get the attention of his advisors. His white teeth flashed in the torchlight as he chortled over yet another report. He normally hated being king and wished the pox on his father half the time he had to deal with paperwork, but in this case, he was ecstatic.

Evidently, his advisors had taken his warnings to heart and pulled out all stops in acquiring the men he wanted and Earthhaven needed in protection from the Jugazi. There was a time for discussion and a time to get out of the ore car and push. This moment was of the later, and he could not have been happier.

Not only did it look like he would get his six hundred thousand, but that he would instead end up with almost seven hundred thousand. Departments were being cut to the bone, and Thana were already in training everywhere under the guidance of grizzled veterans of the militia. Thorvald knew this would have an impact on short-term production of many commodities, but he felt survival trumped the need for a new toilet seat, for instance.

Two days after the volcano erupted, the Lorr had arrived with General Cyrus himself at their head, when the first eagle flight landed. Now they had two full squadrons of Lorr eagle riders, thirty thousand Lorr warriors spread throughout Earth Haven and the general himself was next door, using the office his main advisor cleared out. While the king concentrated on keeping the kingdom running and building his army, the Lorr General handled the refugees from Ashstone, salvage operations, and security, all while the Thana ramped up to speed.

With the Lorr host had also come their mages. Superior to the Thana wizards in every way, they were rapidly bringing the devastation at Ashstone under control. Although the Thana preferred to live near active volcanoes for the dense metals that constantly bubbled to the surface, Thorvald did not blame them when they capped the flow off at the mantle itself, putting a solid core in place, harder than the surface around it. No more would that particular volcano provide any problems, and if truth was told, the metals still there would keep the new Ashstone busy for hundreds of years. Maybe when the mines started to go dry, he or his descendants would ask the mages to remove the cap.

The truth about the extra numbers was the Thana females. While it was factual that the average female Thana was much smaller than their male counterparts, some small percentage were just as large and strong as the males, just like in any race. Many of those had volunteered for the militia, which was enough for an additional fifty thousand troops. Thorvald knew the men were having a hard time adjusting to fighting side by side with women, but his militia advisor had taken the Jordache model and built upon it. Thorvald had drawn the line on any women with children, but that only eliminated a small percentage of those volunteering. Blood begets blood, and his people were very angry.

His door thumped, and Cyrus, the Lorr General, walked in, pulling a chair up to his desk. Thorvald didn't ask the man if he wanted an ale. He knew the Lorr universally preferred wine and instead asked what the other wanted. Since Thorvald detested wine, he kept none on hand, not even for visitors.

"Cyrus, what can I do for you?"

"I was just going over these plans of yours for the invasion of the Northern Wastes."

"What invasion? I labeled that document 'Retribution,'" scowled Thorvald.

The Lorr General simply looked at him and then back down at the papers while remarking, "You do realize they have millions of warriors? All this will do is bring their wrath down on the Thana. They will squash you like bugs, then hold off for a generation to build their numbers back up and only then attack the humans. What were you thinking when you planned this?" Cyrus pushed the sheaf of papers across the desk to Thorvald and leaned back in his chair to wait for an answer.

"Retribution!" growled Thorvald as his finger stabbed down at the name written at the top.

"After reading this, my first thought was it would be better named ‘suicide,’" commented Cyrus dryly as his own finger stabbed down next to the king’s.

"Blood begets blood, old friend. They blooded us. We must pay them back," growled Thorvald even louder.

"Not so. I have a much better plan you should consider." With that, the Lorr reached within his robes and removed a tightly wound scroll. Unraveling the parchment, he smoothed it out before passing it over, and then bent over the desk to point out parts of the writing for Thorvald's attention.

"Here and here and here, you pull back. Let them scale your landslides in these places. They will gather their troops just this side of those passes."

"What good does that do but let the enemy in our door?" complained the King.

"You have underground deposits of oil don't you?"

"You mean that thick stuff that burns like tar and sulfur combined?"

"Yes, and I know you also have tar pits, correct?"

"Well, of course to both, but the oil is useless for anything other than greasing wagon hubs, and while the tar makes a great water-proofer, it's too sticky for general use."

"No. You heat the oil in large pots. Almost bring it to a boil then skim of the top third layer after several hours. Then you take this skimmed portion and mix in equal amounts of tar."

"What is it then? Super tar?" joked Thorvald.

"No, it is a highly combustible substance that will stick to anything it touches, which is why I will assign one of our mages to this project. There must be no flames anywhere near it. You let the enemy in the pass on the other side of the rockslide, but keep them within the pass. Our eagles will drop bags of this thick liquid on them, causing it to stick to everything, then, when the entire enemy troop is doused, you'll shoot flaming bolts into them. Trust me, my friend. The Jugazi will explode with fire. Our mages and my common sense predict the Jugazi will come at you with no less than thirty thousand troops for pacification purposes. They will attack all the passes simultaneously. We will destroy them. Perhaps then, they will leave you alone. I doubt it. They need your numbers for their attack on the humans, but we'll do what we can with what we have. At least this way your people are simply protecting your borders, so the Jugazi will probably not declare all-out war on you."

"Are you sure this will work?"

"Oh yes, I'm quite sure."

"How do you know all this?"

"We didn't always live in the woods," smirked Cyrus."There is another item we need to discuss."

"What? Cyrus, that was my only ‘suicide plan,’ as you call it, so anything else is all on Eric!" exclaimed the King of the Thana with a mock expression of outrage adorning his face.

"It's funny you should mention Eric." The general smiled to the king.

"What did Eric do now?"

"It's what he should do that you will consider, Thorvald."

"Would you stop speaking in riddles for just a few minutes? You're starting to sound like that drunken sot of a Thana I occasionally refer to as my head wizard," replied the king of the Thana in an exasperated voice.

"You should send Eric along with nineteen warriors to the games this year in Jordache. I will be sending Neven and nineteen of my own."

"The games are a month away; we'll never make it in time. I'm needed here, and besides, we've never participated in the human's games.

"I did not say you, King Thorvald. I specifically said Eric. He is young and one of your best fighters. I cannot explain it, but something has been gnawing at me for days. I feel this is important, and so does our head mage. I will have them transported there on a squadron of eagles. They will be on time."

"Well, I suppose, but only because you think it's important," said the king gruffly.

"Good man." Now Cyrus was grinning. He felt this was the right thing to do.