The God Warriors (4 page)

So, I can have children there!

[Yes.]

Define my magic, if you would, Ares.

[You will be able to manipulate raw Order and Chaos as you witnessed. This does not mean you are the same level or higher than the wizards of Corvalis are. Their magic is more complex, whereas yours is simpler. In some areas you are stronger, in others they are.]

And these other races?

[The world of Corvalis evolved with no sentient life of its own. Various gods have used this world to save their followers from death and destruction from time to time. Other races such as the humans simply traveled to Corvalis when the space bonds between universes thinned. The result is a world with multiple intelligent species. Most will be on your side. Some will not. You will need to discover on your own who will side with your cause.]

John leaned back and thought. On one hand, he could go to heaven and become bored in short order. He clearly remembered how long it took to lose interest in everything once he retired from the Marine Corps. On the other hand, he would have a fresh start, in a new body with special abilities. A thought occurred to him.

How about bringing my dog, Kali, over? Can you do that?

[No. I'm sorry. We cannot physically transport physical matter from one realm to another except under certain circumstances, or during those times when the walls of space are thin, creating natural membranes. However, Mother and I understand your love for Kali and have something special planned for you. We will explain more of this to you at a later time.]

It was a thought, oh well. What about these races? What are they?

[John, I do not wish to spoil the surprise in store for you. Trust me when I say you will recognize most of them. You see, as I briefly hinted at earlier, the universe is not as diverse as you might think. Throughout the universe, there is duplication among the races, for whatever reason. Call it a builder's template, if you want, and one that seems to have been used frequently.]

Okay, I agree to be this champion. What do I have to lose anyways?
John smiled to himself, feeling he'd made the right decision.

[Thank you, John.] The power behind that thought sent his mind reeling. It had a distinctly feminine flavor, and he knew without doubt it was Ares’s mother, Hera.

You are welcome, Mother. May I call you Mother?

[Yes, my child. It pleases me that you would ask. Now, prepare yourself, for your time here is over. Prepare also to fight upon your merging.]

What?
But it was too late. Darkness descended.

Like any woman, Elsa was moderately self-conscious about her appearance. She was heavily muscled, more so than many men, yet had slender hips flaring out into wide muscular thighs. No, she obviously was not a court beauty, but inwardly she felt she had a certain flair and vitality, especially with the white scar along her left jaw that highlighted her darkly tanned skin. The long raven black hair framing a face set with amber eyes only enhanced her appearance.

That scar was a souvenir from a battle after she joined the Jordache guard detail. Upon joining, she soon found herself promoted to squad leader, which was not common but did have its precedents, for she'd had previous training and excelled during the weapons phase. Years later, a routine patrol near the Illian border had turned into a skirmish, then almost a slaughter, against them as she found herself at the forefront of the remaining seventy members of the previously two-hundred strong company. Six hours of vicious fighting later, they still stood, though they numbered only eight on their feet, all of them wounded. The enemy routed with over twice their number lying dead or wounded on the battlefield, proclaimed the victory theirs. The king, being impressed in the aftermath, granted her a company of her own.

Her Da would have said these men and women were good material, but still needed work because it was his firm belief that a soldier could never train enough. A retired king's guardsman, he purchased a farm with his end of service entitlement and married her mother. Even though he wished for a boy, their first child was female: Elsa. Two more female children quickly followed as her father tried to produce the male offspring he truly desired. Finally giving up, he treated his eldest, Elsa, like a son. This meant she did an abnormal number of chores and helped plow the fields twice a year. Then, gifting Elsa a wooden sword on her fifth birthday, they practiced endlessly, eventually graduating to other weapons, then tactics as her training progressed under his tutelage. From swords to bows, staffs to axes, then mock wars with the village boys and a few girls, Elsa had grown into a strong, confident, and dominating female leader under her father's guidance.

In addition, her Da was always right. If he said it would rain, then it would rain. If he said the winter would be colder than normal, then it would be. He said the neighboring kingdom of Belgresse would invade because of Jordache’s trade practices, and they sat down in the cellar amidst candles to wait it out. When next-door neighbor Tommy Kendrick came down sick with blisters all over his face and neck, Da had ordered his daughters to shun the Kendrick's until the disease ran its course. Da also ordered all neighboring farms to have no contact with the Kendrick's, and they had obeyed. In the end, three of Tommy's family had succumbed to the disease, including Tommy himself.

For Elsa's entire life, she felt like she lived in the shadow of an invisible and unborn brother’s footsteps, but finally she came to realize her Da loved her without reservation, for herself and who she was and not for some fantasy, that he was very proud of the woman she'd become. When she informed her father that she would be leaving home to join the guard and to not try to change her mind, he had swept her into his arms, all six-foot two inches and one-hundred and eighty pounds of her, and cried with happiness. Then he packed their farm wagon, left mother home amidst teary goodbyes, and bundled her and her sisters off to the capital of Jordache, Crystal City.

Once they arrived at Crystal City, their father led the three girls to a small, yet cozy, boarding house on the outskirts of the city and settled them in a room that had a nice view of the river. The innkeeper, Widow Rosa, was especially nice to Da and Elsa. She refused to ask any questions about how her father knew this woman or why the two of them appeared to be so friendly with each other. She knew her father brought produce to the city, sometimes several times a month, and in her limited years she was still wise enough to “let sleeping dogs lie.” A phrase her father had taught her. It was important to note that their father did not share the room with them but slept elsewhere, and she sternly instructed her younger sisters not to ask any questions.

The following morning, Da spent a small portion of the family's hard-earned money to buy her sisters and their mother new, yet modest, dresses, and Elsa a well-tempered sword that she promptly strapped to her side. Then, leaving Elisa and Eleanor with Rosa to help in her garden, her father told Elsa to dress in leathers and escorted her to the city guard barracks where recruiting took place.

"Oye, Mad Dog!" Shouted one of the two guards they found at the entrance. Turning into the open doorway behind him, he shouted out, "Get your lazy tails out here, you dogs! It's Captain Mad Dog! I want to see full kit ready for inspection in sixty seconds!"

"Mad Dog?" whispered Elsa to her father.

"Best not to ask, daughter of mine," he whispered back. Elsa raised her right eyebrow but refrained from saying anything, instead simply stood back and waited.

In a matter of minutes, a full company of guardsmen had assembled in the courtyard. A man dispatched after a whispered conversation with the guard officer on duty saluted her father, a salute he returned with military precision. Elsa knew her Da had been in the guard but never realized he had been an officer, let alone a captain.

"Sir!" Barked the grizzled war veteran as he marched up to her Da then came to attention, arms straight down his sides with palms inward against the thighs. "King’s Own ready for inspection, Sir!" Then he saluted, which her Da returned. Each man raised his right hand to lay over their hearts. It held for a brief few seconds before both snapped their hands down again. The rest of the men and women continued to stand at attention as her father surveyed the ranks before him. Her eyes widened in amazement as she remembered the king’s Own was the elite of the elite and charged with guarding the royal family. That her father earned such respect from these hardened and deadly veterans was beyond amazing.

Each man and woman wore nearly identical cuirasses of lightweight burnished steel that covered the front and back, the woman's being pre-formed in the chest for breasts. In addition to steel gauntlets that covered hands and forearms, each wore bracers over their upper arms and greaves over their thighs and shins. All the additional armor was of thick boiled leather, and leather boots covered their feet while across their back slung a rectangular shield approximately two feet wide by three feet tall made of vulo wood strips bound by steel bands. Finally, a steel helm covered their heads and the sides and back of their necks. The entire ensemble strapped to a thick leather blouse and pants, and at each side hung a steel short sword with leather wrapped hilt.

She knew that the entire outfit, though lightweight, would protect against the average arrow and sword stroke. She also knew that all the countries of the Alliance wore uniform armor and shields. The only way to tell one country’s guard from another's was the painted insignia across the front of each cuirass and shield. They also kept the same rank structure, making it easier to work together. She knew the only part of the outfit that would change would be the shield, as a round shield was worn while on horseback instead of a rectangular one.

Her Da proceeded to walk the line of fully equipped men and women, of which approximately a hundred and fifty were present from the company of normally two-hundred. Slowly and carefully, he examined each one as they presented their kit for inspection and with thoughtful remarks and nods of approval; eventually he reached the last and proceeded to the front of the quadruple column. As far as Elsa could tell, each one of the men and women present had been resplendent in their spotless garments and well-used yet clean weapons and equipment.

"A fine bunch of warriors, Sub-Captain Milstein," her Da remarked to the grizzled man before him. Elsa knew from her Da's teachings, the position of Sub-Captain, allowed captains to perform other duties. Usually, the most experienced man or woman assumed this position.

"That they are, Mad Dog."

Then Da grinned at the soldier then both men reached out and shook, forearms tightly grasped.

"I need to see the Captain and Troop Commander. Are they around?" her Da asked.

"I sent for them when you showed up. They'll want to catch up and talk about old times."

"Mad Dog, is that you?" A voice spoke from behind them, and as she was turning, Elsa saw the Sub-Captain approach as all the men present snap to attention.

Before them were two older men, roughly her father's age with calm demeanors and friendly smile on their faces. Both carried themselves well and from the insignia on their helmets, she saw the designation for captain on one and troop commander on the other. All were in top physical shape and as they approached, all four of the others near Elsa, including her father, saluted. Her Da at attention and saluting was something Elsa had never seen before. Suddenly she had a glimmer of what her Da must have been like twenty years ago while in the service to the king, for his back was ramrod straight, and a profound feeling of no nonsense was readily apparent as he addressed the troop commander of the king’s elite guard.

The hand over heart salute held for several seconds before the arms of all four snapped downward, after which the men grasped forearms and slapped shoulders. For a moment, she became lightheaded as she started to realize just how important a figure her father had been before retiring to a farm in the middle of nowhere.

Her father was the first to speak."It is good to see you, Commander Morre, as it is you, Captain Ream." The two facing him smiled in return. 

"Yes, it has been too long since your last visit. At least six months, I think. Wouldn't you say, Ream?" responded the commander.

"Agreed. Great to see you, and when did you get in?" said Captain Ream.

"Late yesterday afternoon. I wanted to get over here as soon as possible."

"I am surprised you were able to pry yourself away from the widow Rosa so quickly," laughed Ream. Elsa blinked as she looked at her Da out of the corner of an eye but did not say anything, watching his face turn red before he cleared his throat.

"I'd like you to meet my eldest, Commander Morre. Her name is Elsa, and perhaps we should leave Rosa out of the conversation for now," said Da as the others grinned at him, then he reached back to grab Elsa by the elbow and drag her forward. As he did, the older man, the troop commander, removed his helmet, holding it in the crook of his arm and walking toward her. Having never seen a helmet close up before, she glanced at it quickly, but thoroughly, and noticed it covered most of the head, leaving eyes, nose, mouth, and chin clear. Scalloped curves on the front covered the cheekbones, and the entire piece seemed to be made of steel.

"The pleasure is mine, Miss Dragod." Moore reached out to take her hand, and, bending at the waist, he brought his lips to the back, causing her to blush. The older man kissed her hand for only a moment before suddenly stiffening and straightening slowly, still holding onto her. He turned it over in his, spreading her fingers out. Carefully, he rubbed his own fingertips over the heavy calluses of her hand, circling those on the pads of her fingers and the thick ridge on her thumb.

"Thank you, Sir." Elsa responded with a shy smile, trying to pull her hand back to no avail. The commander’s grip was like iron, and she waited as his attention now focused on her father.

"Sword and bow, Mad Dog?" The question was simple and direct.

"Yes, Sir, and trained by my hand since the age of five. My guess would be that you've not a man or woman here that can beat her. My girl wants to join the guard, so I'm looking for the right sponsor. Trust me, Colonel, when I say she is good enough for the King’s Own, but without the right sponsor, she'll end up in some trash company in the middle of nowhere, fending off men trying to grab her from behind while beating away mosquitoes the size of your fist. Commander, I'd take her at my back before anyone else," her father finished fiercely.

Slowly, the troop commander turned his eyes back on her, and, pulling her closer, he ran his hand up her arm, feeling the tight compact muscles beneath the leather. Then he felt the muscles in her shoulder, before finally releasing her, turning back to her father.

"Has she done any shield work?" the commander asked.

"No, Sir, not yet, as proper shields were a bit too pricey for me to justify the expense with the missus."In silence, both men looked at each other before the commander turned his head, addressing the junior officer.

"Milstein. Two practice swords, and drag Gunnor out here. We have an entrance test to conduct. Oh, and find a helmet that will fit her, but no shield."

"But Commander," the man protested. "Wouldn't it be better to test her using one of the new guard recruits?"

"No. If Mad Dog trained her, I want to see her against our best. Spar will be in leather jerkin without armor other than helm," responded the commander, as he waved Milstein away.

Slowly, the encouraging words of her father and that of this other man instilled confidence within her, and a smile grew across her face. The commander looked over at her again and spoke, a stern expression on his face.

"Elsa, you do realize that if you join the guard, there is no modesty within the common ranks, as we do not distinguish between male and female. When not on guard duty, you will be training incessantly, living in a cramped barracks with dozens of other men and women, and cleaning up each day in a community bath. If you have a complaint, you will take it to your squad leader and not me. If I sponsor you, you will obey the law and rules of the company and kingdom."