Soul Under the Mountain (Legend of Reason Series) (14 page)

"I need food and supplies," Gorin responded.

"There is a town to the southeast called Morrat where you can find supplies. We cannot allow you to go any farther north or west. These areas are off limits to anyone but soldiers."

Gorin pulled his war hammer from his back.
"I'm not going to Morrat
. There are supplies and food here."

Half the men didn't even realize what he meant. The other half had drawn their swords and made ready to defend themselves. Eventually they all realized what was about to happen and pulled out their pathetic little blades. A few jogged out to the sides to flank him. He let them.

A shaky voice made a pitiful attempt to reprimand him. "Put your weapon away and leave this area or we will be forced to take action."

Gorin reached over and placed his massive hand on the man's helmet, crumpling the steel and crushing his skull with ease. His body fell to the cold ground, convulsing as if he was still alive. He wasn't.

The other soldiers rushed in to hack at him with their puny weapons. A swipe of his hammer
dented a breastplate so badly that its wearer was unable to breathe any longer. Gorin laughed at the fact that the man would suffocate before he could remove the armor. Another quick hit with the hammer would end his misery, but Gorin refused to do that.

Men rushed in to attack. Gorin swung the hammer again, clipping three or four of them in the swing. All of them flew through the air and tumbled to the ground like little discarded human dolls.

One of the men suddenly felt brave and ran straight at him. He let the puny man swing his sword, but he shifted his weight to the side. The sword missed, and the soldier stumbled a bit before recovering his balance. As soon as he did, Gorin grabbed him by the bicep and threw him high into the air. It was not high enough of a fall to kill the man, but enough to break one of his legs
when he landed
. Gorin made a special effort to go over and step on the man's broken leg
and cause him as much pain as possible
.
It would be a good opportunity to show these humans just how ruthless
he would be. When he reached the injured man, h
e was pleased to see that some bone was sticking out of the meat of his leg. When
Gorin
put all
of
his weight on the shattered limb, he felt the
broken
bones grind and crunch under his foot.

Several of them flanked him and tried to attack from the rear. All their hope fled from them when they realized that there was yet another beast-like man waiting behind a tree. His brother Gewin slowly walked over to the skirmish and began swinging his own heavy hammer.

Both brothers began to sing in unison. It was a deep, rumbling tune, more horrifying than uplifting. The hammer strikes became the drumming rhythm. Grunts and growls became the chorus. Screaming men added their own voices to the terrifying song. The words the brothers sung were in an old language that none of the Vindyri could possibly understand, but the meaning of the song was conveyed precisely. It meant that killing was easy and enjoyable, and should be accompanied by song.

The dark, booming tune went on as the twins smashed their opponents. There were no severed limbs or slashes in this battle, only the violent cracks of hammer on steel or bone. Blood poured from dead noses and mouths. Crushed armor imprisoned the helpless fallen, and would never be able to be removed for burial.

Soon the frightening song had reached its end, and the twins had finished their fight. Only a few unlucky soldiers clung to life, and none of them were in any condition to continue fighting. All but one were in the dreamy state between this world and the next, and soon their souls would cross over into the black.

The one that had the most life left in him had tears in his eyes as he lay there motionless. Gorin remembered hitting this soldier at the back of his neck during the battle. There was no doubt that the blow had broken his neck and he was unable to move at all.
His body, in a sense, had crossed over into the next world faster than his soul could follow.

Gewin stepped up next to his brother. "Ah this one looks like he is the freshest of them."

Gorin laughed at his Gewin's joke. "Yes, I suppose so. You can have this one, brother."

Gewin kneeled down and tore the armor off the man with his powerful hands, throwing it wildly over his head and behind him. Once the soft flesh of the belly was exposed, he bent over and bit into it with his massive jaws. Sharp teeth easily shredded the skin and muscle, and tore o
f
f chunks that Gewin hastily gulped down his throat. The soldier did not cry out. He could only stare helplessly through his watery eyes at the horror as he waited for the release of death. It would be some time before it came.

Gorin pulled a curved knife from
his belt and sliced into an arm, twisting and pulling to separate it from the torso. Steam rose from the cut end as he bit into it, ripping ribbons of flesh off as he chewed. He ran his hand over the bloody stump and began smearing the blood into his braided locks of hair.

"I wish you would not do that, brother," Gewin said as he looked up from his living meal.

"Why should I not do it? You do the same thing yourself."

"Yes but it interferes with my sense of smell. If we were not on this mission, it would not matter. But
we shouldn't risk clouding our senses while we hunt for the god of war."

"He is a long way off, Gewin. We have little to fear at the moment. I like to smell the dried blood after a kill."

"Yes, but I could smell these men before we saw them. If I carried the scent of blood in my hair, I don't know if I could have smelled them."

"Alright, brother. You're right. We'll do it your way. When you're finished eating, check them for any nice curved knives. I want a new one."

"These Vindyri seem to like straight blades like the Medorans do. I have only seen the Bhoors carry curved blades."

Gorin grunted a sigh. "
That's not what I want to hear. Hopefully they have some gold or silver coins on them. At least then we can buy supplies."

"Why would we need to do that?" Gewin said as he chewed. "This method works just fine. Dinner walks right up to us and jumps in our mouths."

"I told you, brother, we need to avoid drawing attention to ourselves. The Medorans are not as inept as these Vindyri fools. They will be on high alert, especially with all the enemies swarming around them right now. We must avoid kills like this as we get closer to Medora."

"Why? No one can stop us. We can march right up to their capital, tear down the walls of whatever building Rommus is hiding in, and kill him."

"You know it's not that easy. There's his father we will have to deal with."

"So?" Gewin snapped. "He's nothing more than a man. Even his strength is nothing compared to ours. It is like fighting children. He will not be any trouble at all."

"Yes, my brother, we are certainly stronger than these wastes of skin, but their strength is not in their muscle.
They have strength of the mind. You
have seen how clever Tannis is
while we
watch him through the orb
. His companions are nearly as formidable. We must approach with caution and not underestimate our enemy."

Gewin searched inside the ribcage for the liver, pulling it out
with a wet snap
when he found it. "They are men. We can defeat men. We just did so. Besides, we have the protection of Maeris."

"Do not be a fool, brother. Rommus is the new god of war. They all have his protection."

Gewin bit into the liver and laughed. "He has lost his powers. You have heard it yourself. That stone that the Emperor destroyed robbed him of any powers of a god."

"Then why can we still not see him when we use the
eye of Indahinar
? He is still protected by the light. I know that Uritus and even Maeris believe he has lost his power, but something tells me th
at things are not as they seem."

"It does not matter, Gorin. Even with the full powers of a god, he is no match for us. We know how to defeat him and we can do it easily.
Even the armor of Arius cannot protect him.
I cannot wait to finally set my eyes upon him and watch his soul leave his body."

"Nor can I, b
ut I fear that the Zidaoz and his beasts will arrive before we do. I can't imagine Rommus will be out in the open where we can find him. I don't think Tannis will be either."

"No, none of them will be easy to find for some time. We may need to wait until after the war to get our hands on them."

Gorin bit into some bicep and chewed.
"I don't want to wait that long.
I want to know what the flesh of a god tastes like."

Chapter 1
8

The heavy clouds overhead had given birth to a gentle snowstorm. Fat flakes fell in meandering patterns, tossed about on the subtle winds. A silence hung in the air as the white winter blanket draped itself across the rolling hills. Sparkling diamonds of blue ice collected in the aqueducts and waterways, making time seem to stand still—frozen by winter's chill.

But in a few weeks the ice and snow would give way to cold rain, and then, warmed by the spring sun, the hills and valleys would once again be carpeted with green. Flowers would dot the landscape, framed
by
purple mountain ranges and sky-blue lakes. Life would roar back, returning to the land and weaving itself back into the scenery.

But for now, the landscape was cold and wet. Colorless clouds
above tumbled slowly by,
ensuring a long snowfall. The sun had abandoned the land, and shadows hid from the clouds, not knowing which direction to flow. Everything was a lifeless gray, with only the cold hues of blue to offer accent.

The sharp spikes of leafless trees stabbed at the heavens in vain. The clouds mocked and laughed at them, covering their bare branches with a thick layer of snow. The few brave leaves that had held on through the winter were teased by the wind and harassed by the tinkling snowflakes. That gentle sound of flake on dry leaf was the only sound that could be heard throughout the land.

But the cold was not all
Song felt. He
felt the pangs of guilt as well. He had succeeded in convincing Uritus that
Rommus was not an ally, and in truth, that was indeed the case. He barely knew the man and their paths had only crossed for a short time—and half of that time they could be considered enemies. But regardless of the image that Song tried to show Uritus, he knew better. In his heart, he knew Rommus was a good man who was trying to do what was best for his people. The guilt that Song felt was because he felt he was betraying Rommus.

Uritus also appeared to be doing what he thought was best for hi
s people, and h
is argument was a convincing one. When explained, it seemed fair to provide a sort of safety net for all the people of
Medora. The idea of creating a uniform
equality among the masses seemed justified. But when he was on his own, away from the flowery words of Uritus, those ideas made less sense. Song found flaws in Uritus's ideas, but it seemed that every time he met with him, he forgot them. Uritus had a way with explaining things that did not allow any sort of questioning of his theories. They were simply facts, and the debate was settled as soon as he uttered the words.

Aside from that, he was the Emperor of all of Medora. He was an important man who was not to be interrupted or
questioned. The mere fact that he made time for Song at all was an honor; even if Song disagreed with his theories about society. Most of the time Uritus kept his conversations about his grand scheme
simple and
lighthearted, and Song began to understand what he was trying to do. Uritus kept from sounding preachy by providing very little information. This almost forced Song to ask questions, making it seem as if he was interested in learning more. The questions were always exactly what Uritus was expecting to hear, and he had well-crafted answers already prepared. Song soon realized that having a conversation with Uritus was not a conversation at all; it was a well-choreographed attempt at indoctrination.

Rommus, on the other hand, had never made any such attempt. When Rommus spoke, it seemed more rooted in reason, and not wispy ideas. Things were more clearly defined, making room for ideas in the conversation wh
ich were not preplanned. Things were more black and white with Rommus, but somehow this was not more limiting than Uritus's way. Uritus offered clouds of understanding, while Rommus offered sturdy rocks.

This leaning towards Rommus made Song's mission difficult. No matter what Uritus said to convince him otherwise, Song could not see Rommus as an enemy. Even if there was some glaring fact that proved it, there was still the fact that Uritus was forcing Song to do things against his will, and Rommus was not. In fact, Rommus never forced Song-or anyone else, for that matter—to do anything at all. He had his companions and they seemed to help him work towards his goals, but none of them seemed to be slaves to him. They were working with him because they chose to; not because they
had
to. With Uritus, that was not the case—certainly not with Song.