The God-Stone War

Chapter 28

Walter had suggested using invisibility until we could get to a safe place to make our ‘entry’, but I dismissed the thought. There really weren’t any safe places, and being fully invisible would also mean we would be blind, since in order to hide from Doron we would have to cloak ourselves from magic as well as visible light.

Instead, I asked him to put a shield around the two of us until I could get the situation under control, though I wanted him to remove it once I got started.

“That’s reckless,” he insisted, “Why do you want to be unprotected?”

“Your shield wouldn’t stop Doron if he’s serious, and it might hurt your chances of escaping if the feedback stuns you when it breaks. I just want to make sure we don’t get killed by flying debris or a wild swing before I can get his attention,” I explained.

“That doesn’t sound like a…,” began Walter, but his words ended quickly as I opened the door and stepped through, leaving him little choice but to follow.

The scullery itself seemed almost untouched. A basket of turnips had been overturned, and a few dishes had been knocked to the floor, but if it hadn’t been for the raucous noises coming from the larger main kitchen area, we might never have known a battle had passed through it. I stepped through the open archway leading into the kitchen and had to blink as a wooden stool passed through the air near my head.

The preparation tables had been reduced to kindling, while pots and pans had been tossed willy-nilly about the room. Backed into one corner, Cyhan and Sir Thomas were struggling to avoid being overwhelmed, using the ovens to guard their backs while they faced seven of the intruders. Thomas still held his sun-sword but somewhere along the way Cyhan’s had been broken, which was not an easy feat. The veteran warrior held the remaining foot of the blade and hilt in one hand and used a large butcher knife with his left hand.

No one had taken notice of us, entering as quietly as we had into such a noisy scene and as I looked on, the fight continued. Those facing Cyhan and Thomas were using the same tactics as before, coordinating their movements and occasionally attempting to entangle one of the knights by sacrificing themselves. Fighting someone that doesn’t mind being wounded or maimed is a difficult thing, especially when he has a friend next to him ready to crack your skull like a ripe melon the moment you are unable to fend off his blows.

Cyhan and Thomas however, had something that none of Doron’s possessed warriors had… experience. Next to them, the berserk warriors seemed like amateurs, despite their advantage of numbers. It was a deadly game though, one that would punish the first mistake on their part with a swift death. The iron-headed maces were unforgiving, and their wielders would be quick to follow up on any misstep.

Cyhan fell backward, stepping awkwardly upon a piece of broken furniture and drawing his enemies’ swings down low, to crush him where he fell. His fall turned out to be a ruse however, and as he slipped downward he pushed off on the oven behind him and went into a slide that sent him between and behind his attackers. Meanwhile, Thomas’ great sword caught the two who had sought to take advantage of his comrade, cutting both arms from the closest one at the elbow, while removing the second’s hand at the wrist.

His attack had drawn his defense out of line, and one of the others facing Thomas stepped forward to make certain he couldn’t recover, or he would have, but for the fact that Cyhan held him by the ankle.

Standing rapidly, Cyhan jerked the berserker’s feet out from under him, causing him to flip forward to slam face first into the stone floor. Meanwhile, Thomas’ backswing caught the man’s companion in the side, neatly bisecting the god-ridden foe, and sending a wash of blood and gore down onto his senior knight commander.

Not that the older warrior particularly cared; Cyhan was already covered in blood and he had never been squeamish. He pushed himself upward, clutching one of the maces that the invaders had dropped, and moved to drive their mutual enemy back from where they were pressing in to flank Thomas. As he stood, he was caught squarely in the back by a heavy iron-headed weapon that had been thrown from across the room. The force of the blow drove him forward to smash into the great brick oven, and while the backplate of his armor protected his spine, the shock of it rendered him senseless for a moment.

Thomas was forced to swing wildly as he attempted to cover both his fallen commander and himself. Under normal circumstances that would have been sufficient, but against these men, it merely delayed the inevitable by a few seconds. Several of those who had already been maimed, threw themselves at him, and even as his sword cut them down, their bodies put him off balance, and he fell under the weight of them while still others grappled his arms and legs.

Only one was left free and able to wield his iron mace, but one was more than enough. Bringing the weapon down in a crushing blow, the berserker struck at Thomas, heedless of his comrades who were pinning the knight. The iron head destroyed the spine of one of the wild warriors, and yet still had enough force behind it to rattle Thomas inside his armor. The second blow was better aimed, and the stalwart Knight of Stone felt something break as it drove him down against the stone floor. The armor he wore was nigh invincible, but the flesh and bone beneath it could only take so much.

During their struggle, Dorian had been valiantly battling against three others and his fight had gone better, despite the fact that he had begun unarmed and stark naked. Without his armor he could not afford to be struck, but it also made him even faster and more nimble. Ducking and dodging, he had managed to get his enemy to do much of his work for him, their maces striking one another as they sought to match his speed.

Using his hand liked a claw, Dorian had caught one of the wounded warriors by the nape and clenching powerfully, he crushed the man’s neck. Without pause, he spun and twisted to avoid an attack from his second adversary and as he moved, he deftly caught his opponent’s wrist. Sidestepping and pulling his foe into an awkward stance, he broke the man’s arm before he could recover.

I saw him catch his enemy’s weapon as it fell and use it to block a strike from his third opponent. The two maces met squarely, and the poorly tempered steel exploded at the sudden impact of the metal heads. One razor sharp shard of metal lodged itself in Dorian’s chest, as bits of steel flew in all directions, but if the Grandmaster of the Knights of Stone noticed, he gave no sign. His heart thundered in his chest as he drove the shattered wooden haft forward into the other man’s abdomen.

As he fought, Dorian saw Thomas’ plight unfolding. Unable to reach his fellow knight to stop the awful battering he was enduring, he used the only weapon available to him… his legs bent as he crouched and levered upward on the haft of the broken mace, using it as handle to send the man impaled upon it flying across the room, to slam into the back of Thomas’ opponent.

Before he could recover, his second opponent, the one he had disarmed and left with a broken limb, caught him squarely with a powerful punch that sent him reeling backward. Another blow followed before he could recover his wits, and Dorian stumbled, trying to protect his head and body. The one armed berserker pummeled him, but despite his enhanced strength he was unable to land a solid strike, for Dorian kept rolling with the blows as he struggled to regain his balance.

As I watched, Dorian seemed to wilt for a moment, and then as his opponent’s next swing came, he straightened and caught the man at the wrist and shoulder before whipping him around to slam into one of the few remaining oaken tables. The heavy wood survived the impact, but my friend wasn’t done… before his foe recovered he lifted the man with both hands and drove him down onto the table again, this time with the force and weight of his own body behind it. The table shattered, and while I couldn’t see what happened to Dorian’s enemy, he did not rise from where he lay.

All of this took place in the span of less than a minute. Without my magic I was unable to intervene, and Walter was slow to react. The fight ended as Dorian finished off what remained of Cyhan and Thomas’ opponents… by first hurling the remains of the table he had broken and then wading in with a broken board to make sure that their enemies progressed from ‘injured’ to ‘dead’.

Understandably, it wasn’t easy to get his attention. “Don’t kill them all!” I shouted, “I need one to talk to!” My words went unheeded, as he used the end of his impromptu club to crush another of the still moving berserker’s skulls.

My childhood friend looked nothing like I remembered him. Gone was his beard, eyebrows, and sometimes sheepish grin, they were replaced by bare skin marked with blood and scorch marks. I had yet to hear him utter an intelligible word. The only sounds emanating from him were deep growling noises, so low as to almost be beneath the threshold of hearing. They were audible though, and the feral sounds sent a chill down my spine.

I moved closer, careful to keep outside of the radius of his makeshift weapon. “Dorian! Are you alright!?” I said loudly, and he finally took notice of me.

The board in his hand twitched as his eyes locked onto me, leaving me to wonder how close I had come to receiving another of his death blows, but it did not move further than an inch. He had frozen, staring at me with a look that bespoke confusion. A noise started in his throat, but only a wordless grunt emerged.

I smiled at him and stepped into his reach, opening my arms in a friendly gesture, “It’s me, Mordecai. You can relax my friend. Do you recognize me, Dorian?”

His lips parted for a second as he attempted to smile, and I caught a glimpse of granite teeth. It was a sight that worried me, for it meant that he had drawn far too heavily upon his bond. Over the past few years I had had to release two of my knights from their bond because of similar changes. One of them had only had the bond for a few months before he began changing, while the other had lasted a couple of years. I still didn’t understand why some turned so quickly, while others showed few signs yet, but the process was dangerous.

My ancestral home in Albamarl contained a living reminder of the fate of men who used the earth-bond too much. The golem Magnus guarded the house and he was but a rocky shell of the man who had once been Moira Centyr’s bodyguard. I had always feared that such a fate might someday happen to one of my knights, and Dorian was the last one I wanted to lose. I can’t release him without my magic… nor can I help restore him to full humanity, I thought silently to myself.

Dorian seemed to have calmed a bit, so I reached out and put my hand on his shoulder in a familiar gesture. “You look terrible,” I noted honestly.

Something seemed to crumble within him then, and his face softened. “Mort? You’re alive?” His big arms caught me up in a bear hug, and I felt his body shaking. Without my magesight I couldn’t tell, but I knew without evidence, that tears ran down his cheeks.

“I’m fine,” I reassured him, while thumping his back with my hands. It didn’t feel quite right. The skin was rough, and whatever lay beneath the surface was too hard to be normal flesh and bone. “I’m more worried about you.”

Stepping back I held him at arm’s length while I inspected him. The piece of metal embedded in his chest looked ugly where it protruded from his left pectoral, but if he noticed any pain from it he gave no sign. Indeed, there was virtually no blood oozing from the wound either, which worried me in an entirely different way.

“After you disappeared… I wasn’t sure what had happened,” began Dorian in a gravelly voice. “I thought you were slain, and more of them kept appearing.” He gestured to the dead berserkers that lay scattered about the kitchen in grotesque positions. “Where have you been?”

I smiled at him, even as my eyes saw one of the corpse’s eyes glance in our direction. It was the body of the man whose neck Dorian had broken. Apparently even though the body was paralyzed it still retained enough life for Doron to animate it. Raising my voice I answered my friend’s question, “I was dealing with Karenth. Now that I’m finished with him, I need to find Doron. It’s a shame you killed all of them.”

“Doron?” asked Dorian.

I nodded, “Yes, the god you’ve been fighting. He appears to have split himself into a multitude of his worshippers, imbuing them with strength and speed. Are there any left? It would simplify things greatly if I could talk to him.”

Dorian looked around him before giving me an apologetic look. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think of saving any of them. Until just now, it seemed as though we’d never run out of them.”

Cyhan groaned as he eased himself up from the floor. “I don’t think there can be very many left. We fought them by the dozens throughout the halls.”

“What happened to you?” I asked, for I had lost track of him after the mace had hit him from behind.

“I was just recovering from the mace that hit me, when I caught a table full in the chest,” he answered, giving Dorian a hard glare.

“I didn’t see you,” replied Dorian.

Cyhan coughed and twisted to the side in an attempt to unkink his back, when he grimaced suddenly and stopped. “I must have broken something,” he explained. Glancing at Dorian, he continued their conversation as though a broken bone wasn’t a matter of great concern for him. “I’m not surprised you didn’t see me. After the god back there blasted the armor off of you, you seemed to go bat-shit crazy. You were wilder than they were,” he said pointing at one of the bodies.

The eyes were still following me, but I gave no indication that I had noticed while I helped the two knights pull Thomas free of the pile of dead men. It was hard to tell how badly wounded he might be inside his armor, but at least the younger knight was still breathing, though he seemed to be unconscious.

“Where are the rest of the men?” I asked them.

The expression on Cyhan’s face was discouraging, not that he was known for his sunny disposition. “We were scattered in the fighting. A good number of the enemy scaled the walls and came down the stairs. I believe the men on top were killed. I saw some of the remaining knights fall in various fights around the keep. Some of them may still be alive, but I doubt many of them are still able to fight.”

“The two of you should see how many are left. Some of them may be in need of help,” I suggested.

The two knight’s stared at me for a moment before Dorian spoke, saying what was on both of their minds, “We shouldn’t leave you undefended. There may be more of them running loose near here.”

I dismissed their concern immediately, “If I can handle the God of Justice without breaking a sweat, I don’t think Doron’s little flunkies will be a problem for me. Do as I have asked. I will wait here for your return.”

Their eyes moved from me, to Walter, and back again, before they both rose and made their way toward the door that would take them toward the main hall. I didn’t bother wondering what silent communication they had shared, as long as they followed my orders, I was satisfied. They collected a few weapons as they went, and a stray thought popped into my mind as they stepped out.

“Dorian!” I called out, to get my friend’s attention. He turned back to look at me as I continued, “You do realize you’re naked, right? You should at least try to find some trousers while you’re out there.”

His face passed through several shades of color before settling on a deep red, as his mind processed my statement. Closing his mouth Dorian hurried away and I could hear Walter chuckling beside me.

“This will make a wonderful story later,” noted the older wizard.

“It will indeed,” I agreed, “once we get rid of our unwelcome guest.” Moving forward, I stared down at the face that had been tracking my movements. “Isn’t that right, Doron?”

The mouth of the paralyzed warrior opened, but without control of his diaphragm he was unable to reply. Instead he gaped and worked his tongue to no avail, attempting to speak.

“You need to stop your game and face me. You have already seen that you are not the equal of my knights. Stop playing the coward and assume your true form; my patience grows thin,” I said, addressing the immobile warrior.

The face went slack as the force animating it disappeared, and a moment later I saw an outline appear in the air above the fallen body. It grew quickly from an insubstantial haze to a solid form, as Doron’s power consolidated in one place. If I had still retained my magesight, I imagine it would have been blindingly bright as the god’s aythar gathered into one distinct place, but as things were I didn’t have to worry about being distracted by the shining god’s power.

Walter vanished as Doron gained solidity. Taking on his true form would concentrate the deity’s power here, and without being able to shield himself, Walter would again be at risk of succumbing to the overwhelming presence of the Iron God. The elder Prathion would be rendering himself invisible to both magic and light to protect his mind. Walter’s disappearance was fine with me, for in this case I had nothing to gain from his presence, quite the opposite actually. The other wizard knew exactly what cards I would be playing, and that knowledge would be our undoing if Doron were to pluck it from his head.

Being invisible to magic as well as light, would also render Walter completely blind. He would still be able to hear, but he would be unable to render any sort of aid, without removing the invisibility that protected him.

“Your friends have abandoned you,” came the deep bass voice of Doron. It was an attractive voice, as all the gods’ voices were, but without the added influence of his aythar, it was merely a voice to my ears.

“At least I still have friends,” I returned, “unlike you.”

The Iron God stood before me with his arms crossed. Muscles seemed to bulge excessively in every direction, and his lightly oiled, bronze skin only enhanced the effect. The form he had taken was large, probably close to seven foot in height and broad-shouldered. I had always been tall compared to my peers, but Doron’s height made it easy for him to look down upon me, a deliberate attempt to intimidate me.

He relies upon his physical strength to impress others, I thought silently, and he would rather possess his followers and fight, than use his divine power directly. So far the Iron God was living up to my assumptions about his nature. “Since you have seen fit to talk to me face to face, I will offer you a chance,” I added.

The god’s chest seemed to swell and his entire demeanor radiated menace. Overall it reminded me of a cat hissing and trying to look bigger as its hair stood on end. “You offer me a chance, a chance for what? Do not make me laugh human. You have no power and no hope.”

As he spoke he reached out toward me with one massive hand. He could kill me with a touch or a simple exercise of his power. His reaching hand was a test. He is a physical creature, I thought, he will attempt to put his hand on me to confirm my presence and demonstrate his superiority. Once he had me, he would kill or torture me, and all of my bravado would be for naught. No words would dissuade him.

I did not flinch, instead I looked calmly up at him as his hand came down, and just before it reached me I flashed my teeth in a defiant smile. He stopped then, his palm hovering an inch above my shoulder. Inwardly, I felt my fear diminish and my confidence soared. I’ve got you now, you bastard. You’ve already lost this game. I made no attempt to keep my triumph from my features.

“So close,” I said suddenly, “yet you hesitate. Perhaps you have more wisdom than your brother.”

The hand withdrew as Doron’s brows knitted themselves in an expression of concern. Clearly the Iron God was not adept at hiding his emotions. “What do you mean?” he asked.

“I’m sure you’ve noticed Karenth’s absence,” I stated calmly. “You must have wondered if he had abandoned you to face me alone, but I am afraid the truth is much worse than that.”

“You have no power. You cannot fool my eyes,” he declared, but his face was uncertain.

There was steel in my voice as I replied, “You are welcome to test that notion, but I must warn you, the moment you put your hand on me, our parley is over. I will offer you no second chance.”

Being completely unable to sense my mood or read my emotions had to be driving Doron to distraction. I had already determined that he was not the brightest candle in the bunch, so to speak, but without being able to read my mental state, he was lost. I almost felt sorry for him. Almost.

“What is it that you are offering me? I have everything already, including you,” blustered Doron.

“A chance to avoid your brother’s fate. I suspect it was Karenth’s idea to come here, so I will consider allowing you to leave unmolested… unless you would prefer to wind up like Celior,” I told him plainly.

“You have no magic. Your threats are empty,” growled the Iron God.

I smiled again, “Why don’t you ask Karenth then?”

“Where is my brother?”

My eyes never left Doron’s. “I could show you, but I don’t think you’d like my methods.”

“If you have such power why are you negotiating with me? You offer to let me leave? Why not simply make good on your threat?!” The shining god gloated at his sudden insight, “Your words betray your weakness!”

I kept my voice calm and level, “I never said I would ‘let’ you leave. I offered you a chance. You will give me something of value, or I will crush you into a mindless vessel of power, subservient to my will. I am beginning to suspect you have nothing worth bargaining for, however.” My words dripped with malice.

“I am Doron the Breaker and I have riches beyond your imagining, mortal,” said the indignant god. His posture told me all I needed to know though, he had shifted, and now he would seek to impress me with his value. Without admitting it aloud, he had already surrendered the advantage to me.

I scoffed at him, “I could care less for your wealth. There is only one thing of value to me…” I let the words trail off without finishing.

“What is that?” said Doron leaning forward as he took the bait. He was firmly in my grasp now.

“Information.”

I could see the thoughts flickering across the child-like god’s face as he realized he might escape for the price of nothing more than a few words. Unlike his brother, Doron had no real grasp of the importance of knowledge. “What would you ask of me?” he said after a moment.

“Why did you, your brother, and Millicenth leave your home? How did you cross between the worlds?” I asked immediately.

“Mal’goroth,” answered Doron. “He has grown powerful beyond imagining, from the sacrifices you fed him. He devoured his brethren and grew more powerful still. He opened the way.”

“The shining gods have allied themselves with him?” I said, shocked.

The god’s face flinched at the thought. “No. We seek to avoid him. Karenth sought to release Celior that we might have the power to face him again.”

It was a polite way of saying they were on the run, but I had to make sure. “Why did he open the way between the worlds for you then, and for that matter, who helped him?”

“No one helped him. After consuming the power of the remaining dark gods, he no longer needs assistance from the other side. He tore a breach between the worlds that he might cross at will. We merely took advantage of the rift to escape before he could capture us as well,” admitted Doron.

I couldn’t imagine Mal’goroth being so clumsy as to make a gateway and then allow his enemies to cross through it. There had to be more to the story. “How did you manage that, and where is Millicenth?”

Doron frowned, “She engineered the distraction that allowed us to use the rift, but she was unlucky. My brother thought Mal’goroth had caught her before she could follow us.”

“And now you are all alone,” I observed.

The Iron God grew angry. “Do not mock me with your false pity mortal.”

I dismissed his protest with a wave of my hand, “Very well, I accept your information in payment for the damage you have done to my home and my servants.”

“Your impertinence will be your undoing,” growled Doron.

“It will be yours first. Do you wish to renege on our bargain?” I said icily.

He paused for a long moment before replying, “No.”

“Then you may leave…,” I started, and the shining god had grown wings in preparation for his flight almost before I could finish. “… but, you need to be aware of something.”

Doron paused impatiently, “What?”

“I will give you a few minutes to be clear of my lands. If I find you within them again, or if I sense you near my vassals, my king, or my family, I will show no mercy. Make certain that we do not meet once more, or it will be the end of you. Have I made myself clear?” I declared with a venom in my words that required no acting on my part. Power or no power I meant it.

The Iron God glared at me in hatred and frustration before answering with an ear-shattering scream of rage as he leapt skyward, smashing through the roof of the kitchen and several floors of the keep, before he emerged above the castle. Seconds later, and he was gone, while I dodged to avoid the falling masonry and broken timbers that he left in his wake. I waited, staring upward for long minutes before I decided he must surely be gone.

“I think it’s over, Walter,” I said tiredly, as fatigue washed over me in waves. The adrenaline that had kept me standing firm was fading now, leaving me weak and trembling.

The other wizard reappeared, standing near the back wall, and moved to stand beside me. “What you did defies my ability to describe in a credible manner. Even if I try to tell this story to the bards, no one will believe it,” he said wonderingly.

“They will believe that and more,” I insisted. “Stories grow larger with every telling. By the time my grandchildren are grown, they will be saying I challenged him to an arm wrestling competition and bested him at it, or something equally silly.”

Walter shook his head, “No, the truth was even more amazing than that.” Then his eyes grew worried as he saw how pale I had become. “Are you alright?”

The light was dimming, and my head felt light as I sank downward. I might have fallen but for Walter’s intervention. “I don’t feel so good,” I told him. “Perhaps I should find my bed for a while.”

“You need help,” said Walter. “What would you have me do?”

“Find Penny, she always knows how to make me feel better,” I suggested. “I think I’d like to see her again, before the world is done with me. I’ll sleep well if I can make sure she and the children are still alright.”

“Dramatic speeches don’t suit you,” said Walter looking down on me. There were tears in his eyes. “You aren’t dead yet. You still have a few days ahead if the stories are true. How do we find your family?”

“Just take me to my room and knock on the door. If it isn’t too late, I’m sure she’ll let us in,” I said blearily. “She doesn’t like it if I come home too late,” I added softly, closing my eyes.

“She’s in your apartments? That doesn’t make sense, Mordecai. They should have evacuated. Where would they go in an emergency? Mordecai! Can you hear me? Wake up! Where would she have gone?” he said urgently.

I could barely hear his words however, and I was tired… so very tired. “Take me home,” I managed, before slipping away into the soft gray silence that surrounded me.

As I faded away, I thought I could hear someone yelling, “Dorian! I need your help!”