Chapter Nine

Crawling with pain her skin seemed to light on fire. Elidra had no doubt Vrok had been poisoned. As she moved her other hand to stroke his broad strong face, she could feel the blood in his body screaming in pain. For his part Vrok said nothing, only smiling at her, withstanding the pain so obvious in his body.

In the three hours she had been at his side, he said nothing, just looked at her and smiled. She could feel his wants and desires that was nothing new to her. But there was a burning rage in him just under the surface. When his eyes seemed to call out to her, she offered him a nod of understanding and called for his generals whom previously he had sent away. Elidra, an extension of the Emperor was to do his will and the Emperor would not be reduced to lying in a bed.

Another coughing fit sent him to his side, blood in impossible quantities spilled from his open mouth as his body seemed to convulse. His still strong arms flexed and strained against the pain wracking his body. Wiping his mouth as he returned to his back, Vrok batted her hand away. Gruffly he used the bed covering to wipe his mouth, swung his legs around and moved to stand. Elidra stepped back to give him room, first attempting to help him, then realizing how much Vrok wanted to do this on his own, she stepped back slightly to give him room.

Placing his hand on her belly and looking up at her, Vrok rose to his feet. Breathing in deeply, he rolled his shoulders then breathed out heavily. The moment he was stable on his feet, his Generals entered. Turning to greet them, he flashed a quick smile and wink to Elidra. Still saying nothing, each was given a nod, and then carefully stepping back, Vrok stood slightly behind Elidra. His decision was made.

Elidra felt his massive hand clutch hers. Through the contact she felt his struggle to the point of almost consuming her. Drawing on her own power, she pulled ever so little from him to give him just a small release from the pain. Her entire body seemed to be lit on fire now and her mind fought against it. This was not a normal poison, this was one of magic.

The world disappeared before her as she entered into a cationic state, chasing the source of the poison. Waves and ripples of power flowed through the room like a violent storm. Grabbing onto the fiery ember of the poison, she could see the trail it left. Mixed in the air and swirling around Vrok, she found the lead fiber. It screamed out a name she didn’t understand ‘Joliel’ but then she heard a name she understood ‘Blackroot’. Filled with anger, Elidra crushed the source ember and watched the ripple it belonged to diminish and recede. Yet the torrent around Vrok remained. No matter how she tried, she was unable to do anything to it.

Returning to the world, she found all staring at her. Vrok’s heated grip flexed repeated in her hand grabbing her attention. His nod said everything she needed as their eyes met.

“We strike Berric now. Vrok will lead. Once Berric is dead, we assault Blackroot.” Elidra’s eyes never left Vrok’s. As she spoke a smile wide and approving fell upon his lips. “Shani and I will stand as his right and left. Kerve, you will take charge of the host until my return.”

All understood the message. But in the end it was simple; the Emperor himself would strike the blow against the Ministry.

****

Fury unlike anything she had seen, Vrok tore through the elite legion that surrounded Berric. It was an easy start to the battle as the famous Marauder Legion of the Ministry was at the base of Tova, just as they were told it would be. When messengers arrived with Berric’s standard, Vrok said nothing and crushed their skulls where they stood. In front of all Berric’s forces, he pulled out his manhood and pissed on the standard. While Shani and Elidra knew it was a coughing fit, everyone else saw the Emperor spit onto the standard as well.

His fury now covered any coughing he did as his entire body was covered in blood and gore. Elidra couldn’t help but admire the bloodied Emperor and the sheer strength of will he pushed forth and slaughtered. It was a reckoning for what was done to him and more. Vrok screamed and roared as the waves of the famous legion crashed into him. A strike here and there, Shani and Elidra offered side protection as Vrok tirelessly pushed forward.

Elidra saw just past the current wave a huge armored and aged warrior holding a huge axe and point at Vrok. Rage was deep in his heavily scared face. She knew it was Berric. Twice as large as all his soldiers there was a steel in his stance and gaze. Regardless of whatever thoughts one could have of his soldiers, he was the obvious master and trainer. Vrok too had seen the man and only increased his fury, never looking away from Berric as he continued to tear through is men.

Elidra felt it first, but then saw flanks closing in on them. She called out to Shani, but realized the General would do her duty, and so Elidra did hers. The air crackled to life around her as twin fiery blades materialized in her hands. Forcing her will, she entered into a trance. Faces and bodies disappeared as Elidra seemed to dance upon water itself. In and out she felt her body flowing around the others charging her. Striking out as she danced, she could feel the blades biting deep into whatever lay before her. Releasing herself to her power, her world exploded.

Screams of pain and agony filled the air as the warrior woman relentlessly attacked the flank trying to close in on her. No blade touched her skin, no cry was met with mercy, and Elidra had become the very blade of death itself. With each fatal blow, Elidra fell deeper into her power, fueled by the surrounding death. Welcoming it, beckoning it, she pressed on; her will was imposed like thunder upon the skies. It was at that moment, they all began to retreat.

Those, whom begged for mercy, received none. Those that stood in challenged perished all the same. Those lost in the battle simply found the end of their lives. Each one Elidra felt as they passed to the shadows, she knew their lives, their dreams but more than that, she knew their death. How they felt at that instant as she pulled their essence from their bodies.

Elidra suddenly heard Vrok roar a guttural scream that brought her instantly out of her trance. Vrok had made his way to Berric.

Standing face to face, Elidra realized Vrok was only slightly shorter than Berric but twice as broad. As they were squared against one another, it was easy to see why each man was so imposing, yet neither gave ground to the other. There was an understanding if not a respect between them; death stood on their shoulders and one would be claimed.

Unbelievable fast Berric swung his axe, stepping forward growling, the blade missed Vrok, yet the handle crashed into his side. With a terrible cracking sound, the handle exploded into pieces, rendering the weapon useless. Vrok used no weapon as he gripped Berric’s throat and lifted him off his feet. Vrok’s fingers could be seen bulging and white knuckled even through the blood that coated him.

Still lifted and being choked, Berric brought his fist crashing into Vrok’s cheek, snapping the Emperors head back. In response Vrok spit blood into Berric’s face and slammed him into the ground.

Taking a step back Vrok challenged Berric to stand back up. Chuckling as he stood, Berric wiped the blood and spit from his face. There was a happiness in his face and then a rage as the Ministries most prominent general launched himself into Vrok. Quickly Vrok lifted his knee and found the chin of Berric. With a terrible snap, bones breaking could be heard. So violent was the sound, Elidra found herself startled by it. To her surprise as she took a quick look around them, soldiers on both sides could only watch as the two behemoth men stayed locked in battle.

As Berric stood again, the outcome was already known. Grotesquely the left half of his jaw had been shoved deeper into his skull and temple to the point a shard of bone could be seen sticking out just under his temple indention. The right side hung in a lump of gore and crushed bone. If nothing else Berric would likely never talk again. In animalistic fashion, Vrok, blindingly fast, snatched the mauled jaw in one hand and twisted it. The flash of pain in Berric’s face was enough to send shivers down Elidra’s spine. Violently and maliciously, Vrok twisted and pulled. Bone and muscle still attached gave way under the strain as Vrok tossed the bloodied jaw pieces away.

Jamming his into the exposed throat of the gurgling and staggering Berric, Vrok grabbed the neck bones and held them tight. As he punched the face of the man, he pulled the neck toward him. Berric’s neck snapped as the light in his eyes disappeared to the shadows. Vrok released the body and it slumped to the ground, pressing against the Emperors body.

Their general dead, the troops that remained began backing away. Vrok turned to Shani to give his command. Elidra moved to his side as she could sense his weariness. Once close, she could see although the axe missed, Vrok’s side was actually caved in as a mass of bones and muscle meshed and moved unnaturally under the skin. Touching Elidra’s belly again, he spoke, softly but strongly.

“My child will know none stood before me. I died in battle my Empress, not the way of some magic. In battle as my kind should. None of them are to live. No soldier on this field. Kill all.” His voice was struggling now. “Blackroot is next. They are your people my life. Do as I would. I died in battle and the shadows couldn’t take me.”

Vrok died as Elidra kissed his lips, holding his head in her hands. As his body slumped to the ground, she held his lips to hers.

Her eyes covered in tears, Elidra stood and pointed toward Berric’s remaining troops. “They all die, now. This carcass will rot here.” She kicked Berric’s corpse. “However our Emperor will be returned home.”

Elidra’s voice wailed and her will flowed through the air. “Kill them all now!”

****

“I told you, I am Tagor Frost and no friend of the Ministry.” The man’s voice was haggard and worn. For hours he was being beaten and questioned with the same responses, over and over again. “I bring news to the Lord of Windra about events in the North.”

Tagor had crossed into the south via the forest of Hnor, making great pains to stay as distanced from the Ministry borders as possible. He knew the moment he left Tolin, the High Priest would be sending someone to find him and kill him. This took away the idea of any of the cities on the eastern shores of Serpent’s Head. No to get as far from Tolin as possible, he would have to go deep into the Southern Territories, hence Hnor was his best starting point on the journey. Considering his current predicament, he was starting to question if he had any wisdom in his decisions at all.

He knew this band of soldiers were nothing more than thieves. Tagor would have been in better shape if they were indeed servants to the Lord of Windra. Simple protocol would have granted him safe passage if nothing else.

“Give me the news; I will determine if it is best served to the ears of my Lord.” The leader of the group stated. “We can simply continue this for as long as you like.”

Tagor didn’t doubt the truth of the comment. Out of the corner of his eye he saw some renewed interest in his belongings. In silent prayer he hoped they would find the puzzle box he carried. Its lavish details concealed the fact it was only a decoy meant to alarm him of theft in a way most unpleasant to any who toyed with it.

“Surely we all have better things to do than continue this. Sooner or later I will pass out or die. Neither will allow you future wealth or reward.” Tagor played his bait well. The outburst of sneezing from the man going through his belongings gave him an inner smile.

“You have no more belongings. They now belong to my Lord.” His captor taunted him. “What future wealth could you offer for your passage that I could not already receive from my Lord?”

“There is a reward for my head.” Tagor knew for certain now, they were not soldiers for the Lord of Windra. There was some relief in that, if he was to get out of this alive. “Simply travel two days north east to Skara and the Ministry will pay well for me.”

Sparks of concern flashed between the men causing each to take a paused step back in response. No one, no matter how strong or rich, wanted contact with the Ministry for fear they would themselves come up with violation charges. Something however steeled the leader of the group.

“You speak as a thief and a coward. So we must start again. Your message sir?” With tremendous strength that almost lifted Tagor from his feet, the man punched him just under his rib cage. Another strike to his jaw left his senses dazed.

Released, he fell to the ground. Hearing a flurry of sounds, he strained to open his eyes and see what was happening. In quick succession he heard and counted six thumps to the ground. Finding he simply couldn’t open his eyes, a terrible feeling of dread filled him as footsteps approached. Attempting to scurry away from the sounds, he found his legs and body simply not responding.

A hand was placed a on his chest. And a voice filled his ears. “Your ribs are broken. This is going to hurt something awful, brace yourself.” Deep and soft was the voice. For a moment Tagor calmed only to have a white hot surge fill his body as if he was exploding from within.

“Breathe and open your eyes.” Strong hands lifted him to his feet and Tagor found strength had returned to his legs. “There you go.”

Tagor rubbed his eyes and then opened them. Shock filled him as he saw the face before him. One he had seen countless times in tomes, figurines and statues. Rubbing his eyes again he continued to stare.

“I must have been hit harder than I thought. I must be seeing things.” Tagor dismissed his vision, remembered his manners and offered a hand. “That was pretty handy. Thank you. I am known as Tagor of the Frost.”

“Indeed you are.” The man answered clasping his arm in greeting.” The man held his arm a bit longer than normal and looked deep into Tagor’s eyes. “Hmm. Trouble follows you rather closely doesn’t it?”

Tagor looked around at the heaped bodies and then back at the old man. “No more than others I suppose.”

“Perhaps. But do you want to know why it seems to follow you so keenly?” The man questioned, still looking directly at Tagor.

“By the Light, if only someone did.” Tagor laughed nervously.

A stern look filled the man’s face almost causing Tagor to look away. “Stop playing the fool. Others may think your information comes from obscure sources and unknown people. But your visions are a gift lad. One you have been abusing.”

Flee. His mind screamed out at him. Don’t listen anymore just flee.

Yet he found he couldn’t obey. “What would you know about any of it?” Tagor sounded resigned.

“I am your teacher Tagor. It is time you learned to use your abilities correctly. There is war coming and you must be trained and choose the side you will serve.”

Anger filled Tagor instantly. “My days of service are over. I am on my own time now.” His small rant stopped the moment he felt a hand strike his face.

“Selfish fool. Keep telling yourself such lies. Your information selling has always been for your own benefit, no one else’s. Do you really think that null band is going to protect you from your visions? Or better yet, protect you from someone like me.”

Tagor knew. It wasn’t a vision he saw, he was standing before the man that plagued his dreams for years. “It simply cannot be. You are a myth.”

“Yet here you are talking to me. No Tagor of the Frost, you are my student and its time we started, too much time has been wasted.” The man now turned away and started walking away.

“You can’t be Amadagu.” Tagor stammered. “You do not actually exist.”

“If that is true, you are really having a bad day.” The druid smirked. “Now grab your things, we have a long way to go to meet with the Lord of Windra and let him know what is happening in the North.”

“I have no idea where the Lord of Windra is.” Tagor muttered under his breath as he gathered his things.

“Well that is good, because he hasn’t been chosen yet.” Amadagu answered as his image started to shimmer. “And that is why we have to hurry; I have a deciding vote to cast. I suggest you keep up.”

Stretching his new limbs, Amadagu shook his fur and began running, leaving Tagor behind him mouth agape.