How Gods Bleed

  Chapter 3

  Time became lost, as the only voice that could be heard in the underground place was that of prince Yakarzin. Not once were the guards outside heard speaking, showing that they never allowed boredom to get the better of them. The only thing that did change was the rotation of the guards, shifting exactly every twelve hours. After a total of 12 shift changes Yakarzin fell silent, ending the histories with the fall of the great confederation of Noke.

  “Is that everything?” Cada Varl asked having not so much as shuffled his feet during the entire length of Yakarzin’s words.

  “It is,” Yakarzin answered.

  Though he had been speaking day and night he showed no sign of soreness in his words, werewolves simply did not suffer such things. Cada Varl searched the mismatched eyes of the imprisoned prince, seemingly satisfied with what he saw he nodded.

  “I thank you prince, I will not forget the favor you have given me.”

  “That is good,” said Yakarzin. “Remember the deal Cada Varl, for my throne waits for me to claim it once again.”

  Cada Varl nodded but said nothing in response; he turned and walked out of the chamber.

  The guards outside knowing that Cada Varl had finished with the prisoner moved in unison to close the giant door once more. Cada Varl did not look back but he could feel the eyes of the prince upon him, boring through him with great intensity. The Immortal had taken no notice but there was now a fifth guard, one who did not help the others close the door. The new guard approached the Immortal and stated, “Sir, now that you are finished with your interrogation of the prisoner I have been ordered to escort you to meet with King Granzool.”

  “Of course,” Cada Varl said bowing his head ever so slightly in respect to the king of Helluv. “Follow me, sir,” The guard said before he began walking out of the chamber. The Immortal had seen no fear or concern in the eyes of the guard, even the presence of Cada Varl was not enough to shake him from his duty.

  Cada Varl followed the guard and after their ascension from the underground the Immortal could see crisp daylight peering in through the various glass-less windows of the castle. At first the Immortal was expecting to return to the hall where he first met Granzool, but instead the guard led him out of the castle and into the open ground of the capital. Fresh snow that did not quite smell so had fallen heavily for a number of days. Though the snow was now thinning, it was still dominant in the cold air around them. The chill of Helluv was prominent in the mist that escaped the bodies of those around him as they breathed.

  Many people from all shades of a civilization could be seen, from blacksmiths, to farmers, to hunters. Every single one of them regardless of man, woman or child had two important commonalties. The first was that each of them carried powerful bows slung across their back, accompanied by a quiver of arrows whose silver tips seemed to stand out. The other commonality was that though it was heavily snowing they all only wore a thin garment of blue and green that couldn’t possibly offer any warmth in this harsh land. It was just one of the many things Granzool had decreed in order to keep Helluvans as tough as possible. Men from other human kingdoms could not possibly survive such cold without a warm fire and many layers, but Helluvans had been engineered to tolerate such harsh weather. Everything Cada Varl could see was plain and practical, the buildings and houses were no exception to this fact. He could see no grand design or splendor of extravagance anywhere amongst them.

  The Immortal followed the guard through a series of stone arches moving around the inner castle and through the various courtyards, most of which were empty. The guard led Cada Varl into one of the larger courtyards, where like a lone tree in a field Granzool could be seen, accompanied by a total of 6 people, three men and three women. They had gathered around a stone table that had literally been built into the ground, such a thing seemed pointless for the table would be too heavy to be stolen quick enough by anyone foolish enough to commit such a crime in this place. Granzool along with the people to either side of him looked upon the Immortal as soon as he had entered. The guard that had escorted him stayed silent before moving off to a corner of the courtyard where he stood alone.

  “Cada Varl,” Granzool said, “We have just plotted out the course that shall be taken into the west.”

  Cada Varl bowed his head before he responded, “Then it is good timing on my part, my lord. Perhaps the gods are watching out for us after all.”

  Granzool seemed non-fazed by the mention of deities, he responded simply, “If that is true then it would be the first time they ever showed favor to Helluv.”

  Cada Varl said nothing in response. Regardless of what people thought about gods, religion was religion, a touchy subject in just about every land.

  Cada Varl approached the table standing opposite to the king and those who stood at his side. “What did the vermin tell you, Cada Varl?” Granzool asked flatly. “Are they aware of the underground chamber?”

  Instantly after these words were spoken the Immortal could feel the air become thick with anticipation, even to men and women of Helluvan caliber, the hope that could only be found in the spirit of humans shone through.

  Cada Varl answered quickly. “ No, Yakarzin made no mention of it.”

  “Good,” Granzool said, “That will make this task easier to accomplish.”

  Granzool was not a fool, to many a man the most obvious statement would be to say that if the werewolves had known about the chamber surely by now they would have gotten the blood of the Goddess. But Granzool, knew of the powers the gods possessed, forces greater than even Gorgoza was capable of wielding.

  Granzool looked upon the closest person to his right, a young woman with a very long fringe of blonde that suited perfectly her slender face. “Imbaka is the greatest logistics planner I have ever known, this course was chosen by her, show it to Cada Varl.”

  “Yes my lord,” Imbaka replied.

  Cada Varl could not place specifically why, but her voice reminded him of rainfall. It was soothing to listen to but in the most cautious of ways, a light rain that without warning could turn into a violent storm. Imbaka now looked into the eyes of Cada Varl revealing the strength of her own vision, eyes the colour of an autumn leaf covered in bronze. Imbaka looked down at the many maps of animal hide that were sprung out upon the table including the one Cada Varl had given to Granzool. Using her finger to guide Cada Varl’s sight upon a specific map she said, “ We shall head to Gearnius, the northwestern most point of Helluv. Western border patrols there are scarce year round, the terrain is rocky and almost always covered in snow. We shall head in a sweeping arc through the forests of Casbi that shall lead into the mountain ranges of Raefree. From there we shall head to the Iganosa straight into the Jusohag mountains that shall lead us to a place known as the Deupenddous valleys.”

  As her finger came a stop there was a definite flash in the eyes of Cada Varl. There wasn’t anything unnatural about this flash, but it was powerful all the same. The sparks of memory were turning the gears in the mind of the Immortal as he looked upon the place where his kingdom Gatavoi once stood. It was a line of thought Imbaka and for that matter anyone could have questioned, but none decided to. Cada Varl after the longest time a moment could be, studied the rest of the map retracing in his mind the path that Imbaka had laid out. The map was well detailed revealing the names of all the major cities of the west, but one could not help but notice large areas that showed no such fine detail. More specifically these were such areas the chosen path was to be taken across.

  “This path will help us avoid the major populations of the werewolves, it is the best course of action,” Imbaka said firmly as if what she saw in the eyes of the Immortal was doubt.

  Cada Varl looked to her and said, “Agreed.”

  “It should be known Cada Varl,” Granzool said firmly. “That no one here has ever seen the lands of the west past the hills of Eentoma, though this map is the most accurate to be found in the entire east,
it is not a guarantee.” Cada Varl studied the map once again and indeed there seemed large areas that were very vague even if they did hold nothing more than forest and woodlands.

  “I will always keep that in mind my lord, as I make this journey.” The Immortal looked to Imbaka before he added, “Thank you Imbaka for this path, I shall follow it closely.”

  In response Imbaka bowed her head but said nothing.

  With that Granzool took a single step back and instantly the three men and three women at his side knelt down and with lowered heads bowed in the direction of Cada Varl.

  “To your quest,” Granzool said in a dark pride. “ Helluv pledges its 6 greatest warriors, their skill, strength, endurance and bravery shall aid you greatly in this plight. But never forget Cada Varl,” Granzool added, the darkness becoming even blacker in his eyes. “These men and women serve Helluv, the good of their country will always come first.” Cada Varl looked deep into the eyes of the Helluvan king; even one such as he could feel the dark power within them.

  “ I will never forget, my lord.” Cada Varl answered with equally powerful conviction.

  “That you won’t,” Granzool said. “ Before they accompany you, I need you to commit to me, a Gyu, are you aware of what that means?"

  "I do my lord,” Cada Varl answered before he too knelt down and bowed, with a lowered head and his eyes to the snow. He said firmly, “I Cada Varl, swear a Gyu that I will do everything in my power including the sacrificing of my own life, to ensure that they return to their homeland, with breath and strong hearts.” For a moment Granzool stood silent for an unknown reason, he then said in his dark powerful tone. “Rise Cada Varl, I accept your Gyu.”

  As commanded the Immortal did as he was ordered, with the 6 Helluvan warriors standing directly after he did.

  Cada Varl was not surprised in the slightest that Granzool would be sending warriors with him. Helluvans were not of a breed that waited to be saved or for another to act. The 6 warriors (including Imbaka) were packed for a long journey, each carried upon their back an assortment of sacks, tools and other such items that must have weighed considerably yet none amongst them showed any sign of strain. All but one of the warriors wore a suit of armor forged in gekkaheel, an amalgamation of silver and panzied the strongest metal in the entire continent. The mixture made the suits the darkest shade possible of silver in colour. Each suit of armor bore the symbol of Helluv upon its chest, none of them were bulky but slender and streamlined as if each had been custom fitted and forged for the individual. Cada Varl made sure that he looked each of the warriors in the eye, showing them respect, which he could see, returned by each of them.

  Granzool then stepped forward standing but an inch away from the table. He extended out his hand before he said, “ To the success of the journey.”

  Cada Varl stepped forward and placed his hand upon the forearm of the Helluvan king to reciprocate. The Immortal showed no sign of this, but the strength of Granzool was beyond impressive, he held a grasp far greater than even men a fifth as old as his hundred years. His strength compared to the Immortal’s certainly wasn’t overwhelming but still seemed nearly inhuman.

  “To the survival of Helluv,” Cada Varl stated firmly.

  The two then simply stared at one another, both knowing the enormity of the situation before them. Whether Cada Varl and the warriors who were to accompany him succeeded or failed, either way it would lead to the destruction of either the west or the east.

  After a moment filled with the gravity and history of an age was over, the Immortal and the king let the handshake go. Granzool then turned and walked away saying nothing to the 6 greatest warriors under his command. In silence and without looking back he left the courtyard as the guard who had once escorted Cada Varl there followed him. Once the king was no longer in sight the Immortal looked to the warriors before him expecting to greet them. Instead the warriors as a group turned and began to make their way of the courtyard. The last of them, a warrior who did not wear the uniform of the others approached Cada Varl carrying a large pack between his hands. This warrior was dressed head to toe in a stainless black, with only a slit for his eyes to look from. The warrior said nothing as he looked into the eyes of the Immortal and Cada Varl noticed just how black the warrior’s eyes were, to the point that they did not stand out from his garments. Cada Varl nodded his head slightly before he took the pack, effortlessly placing the weighty thing upon his back. The warrior dressed in black remained silent following the others with Cada Varl following him two steps behind.

  As they made their way through the capital out into more open areas the townspeople stopped their normal duties to look upon them. It was strange that they had not done such a thing when Cada Varl had walked through the town, for surely Helluvans would not have been use to the sight of outsiders. While the 6 warriors seemed to pay no attention to it, the Immortal would occasionally glance into the eyes of the townsfolk. It was not weariness or sadness in their eyes but an undeniable jealously. A strange thing to see considering there was a real chance that this warrior state was going to lose 6 of its best to the underworld.

  It did not take long to reach the end of the capital, proof of the modesty of this kingdom. The end of the capital was met with a simple bridge crafted from hardwood that was wide enough for 20 men to stand comfortably side by side when crossing it. From the other side of the bridge there could be seen a group of 40 or so warriors of the kingdom, surrounding a group of 8, three men and 5 women that were bloodied and bound together by thick chains that dragged across the snow. The captured however were not the only ones with blood evident, for the forty warriors were drenched in it. This was no more prevalent than upon the warrior that led the march. He was a giant of a man, not quite as tall as the king was but pretty close. He was far stockier than the king was however and such muscular bulk would have been needed to wield the massive sword he carried, resting partly on his left shoulder. If cleaned his sword would have shone silver but it was almost completely covered in blood. The cold of the air had frozen the liquid keeping its rich, nauseating smell fresh in the air. Indeed the entire troop looked like they had just walked through a rainstorm of blood.

  Upon the bridge the two parties met, each stopping when they could go no further. The 6 warriors who accompanied Cada Varl bowed their heads slightly in respect, which was reciprocated by the entire 40 odd warriors of the troop. The man who lead them possessed a crimson face of blood, for the helmet he wore bared no faceplate, the blood made the blue of his eyes stand out tremendously. Imbaka, who lead Cada Varl’s group was the first to speak, “Gortulin, it is good to see these traitors in chains.”

  “Rats are good at running, but eagles are better at catching,” Gortulin replied in a voice that did not match his hardened appearance. “We had to cross the border into Lumyano, where they had an ambush party waiting for us. Foolishly I must admit we walked right into the middle of it. It seems Helluvan silver can attract the strongest of mercenaries.”

  “How many of them were there?” Imbaka said with a genuine interest in her voice.

  Gortulin did not need so much as a single second to think about his answer, he said truthfully,

  “Must have been at least 250 of them, but they won’t be bothering anyone anymore, all Helluvan silver got them was death….”

  “How many Helluvans died getting these traitors?” Imbaka asked.

  Gortulin shook his head, “None.”

  “That is good,” Imbaka commented keeping her eyes upon his.

  “And where are you heading Imbaka?”

  “Into the west,” Imbaka replied without hesitation. It was now that Gortulin looked away from Imbaka, towards the other 5 Helluvan warriors where his eyes rested upon Cada Varl. The two stared at one another for a moment but neither said anything. Gortulin looked back to Imbaka and asked, “Why to the west?”

  “That is an awfully long story and time is not giving us favor.”

  Gor
tulin nodded but seemed disappointed as if he had been treated unfairly.

  “Then I shall let you proceed with your task, the shedding of blood has not yet finished not while the traitors still breathe….”

  “Of course,” Imbaka said with a slight bow. “Congratulations on your capture….”

  “Thank you,” Gortulin replied, a strong look of disappointment in his eyes.

  As Imbaka moved onward, the other warriors and Cada Varl followed. As the Immortal passed him Gortulin looked him dead in the eyes, but it was not a disrespectful glare more of a curious glance. Cada Varl gave eye contact back but did not say anything to him. Once the Immortal had passed him Gortulin turned and continued his march into the capital with his troop and the captured following him. Once they were over the bridge Cada Varl seemed curious about the disappointment he saw in the eyes of Gortulin and so he asked, “May I ask who that was?” “Gortulin,” Imbaka answered without looking back, “Helluv’s seventh greatest warrior.”