Godborn, p.51
Godborn, page 51
part #1 of Gods of Bronze Series
In the centre of the square, standing before the huge temple, was Leuhon.
The mighty yotunan wore his bronze armour and the shining scales over his chest flashed in the dawn light as the sun crested the buildings. On his forearms he wore bronze strips from wrist to elbow. On his legs from knee to ankle he wore gleaming bronze greaves and protecting his head was a helm of bronze. Atop it all was his huge lion pelt, the lifeless eyeholes staring out.
Leuhon smiled.
He turned to Kreuhesh the Bloodletter who stood at his side.
Pointing a shining arm at Herkuhlos, Leuhon spoke to Kreuhesh.
“Kill him.”
36. Undying Glory
Herkuhlos glanced at his brother as Kreuhesh came down the hill at a walk, smiling from beneath his boar’s tusk helm. The warrior hefted a long war axe in one hand and a heavy spear in the other.
“I will kill you now,” Kreuhesh said, his voice echoing from the walls around them.
Belolukos stepped forward two paces ahead of Herkuhlos and raised his bloody spear. “You will face me, demon slave.”
Kreuhesh stopped his advance and sneered. “Stand aside, boy.”
“You will fight me, you worm, you dog,” Belolukos said, his voice loud in the silence. “I challenge you!”
Kreuhesh gestured with his weapons. “You are nothing. You are not worthy to cross spears with me, boy. I will kill your master and only then shall my axe take you.”
At that, Herkuhlos stepped forward and raised his voice so that all in the square could hear. “This is Belolukos, son of Alkmene and Lektros, and he is my brother. You are right to fear him!”
Kreuhesh shook his head and turned to look at Leuhon. The yotunan stared implacably for a moment and then gestured at Kreuhesh who turned back to Belolukos.
He nodded and stalked forward once more. With a final glance at his brother, Herkuhlos stepped back to the others. He caught Makros’ eye. The older warrior shook his head slightly, indicating that he thought Belolukos was about to die. Herkuhlos thought he might be right. But he was not prepared to stop him from trying to avenge their mother.
Shifting his hand along his spear to shorten his grip, Kreuhesh grinned. “You should know, boy, that I am filled with the power of my god.”
Herkuhlos glanced up at Leuhon in surprise as Belolukos threw back his head and laughed, shaking his spear. “As am I!” he roared.
Before Belolukos finished speaking, Kreuhesh threw his spear.
Too late, Belolukos threw himself to the side. The spear ripped through the muscles in his shoulder and staggered him. Someone was shouting warnings and he looked up to find Kreuhesh rushing forward and the Bloodletter chopped with his long war axe. Belolukos danced back, ducked under the next chopping blow and came up to butt Kreuhesh in the face with his head, sending him reeling. With two hands on his spear, Belolukos smashed the shaft against Kreuhesh’s arm with a terrible crack and he dropped his axe. The blow split his skin and brought forth a cry from Kreuhesh as he staggered to the side. But the strike cracked the spear and the head fell clattering to the ground. Without hesitation, Belolukos rushed forward against the off balanced Kreuhesh and swung the broken end of the spear shaft down onto his helm.
Kreuhesh hardly seemed to feel it and as the blow fell he drew a long dagger from his belt and slashed up at Belolukos’ face. Though the younger man turned away, the blade ripped open a gash in his cheek. Before he could recover, Kreuhesh stabbed his blade into Belolukos’ belly, grinning in triumph as he twisted the dagger.
Herkuhlos shouted in horror.
With Kreuhesh’s blade still in his belly, Belolukos jammed the splintered end of his spear sideways into Kreuhesh’s neck.
He staggered back, grasping the shaft, confusion on his face as Belolukos pulled out the dagger, limped after Kreuhesh and stabbed the blade into his chest. Kreuhesh dropped to one knee with his hands now around Belolukos’ wrist, his mouth working soundlessly, bringing Belolukos down with him so that they knelt before one another. With a final burst of strength, Belolukos yanked the dagger free before plunging it into Kreuhesh’s eye.
Leuhon’s chief warrior fell into the dirt.
Breathing hard, Belolukos slowly stood. The wound bled freely and the hot blood soaked his belly and loins. He looked down at the body at his feet for a moment before looking up at Leuhon. Herkuhlos thought that he would speak but instead he turned his back and limped toward him. His brother’s face was grey but still he managed a smile.
Herkuhlos clasped him on the shoulder and glanced at Dehnu. She nodded once and Herkuhlos stepped away from his friends, walking past Kreuhesh toward Leuhon.
Suddenly, he felt all the wounds he had taken in the fighting so far. The gash on his head was worse than he had thought and the wound on his thigh stopped him walking properly. His shoulder was a mass of agony where a blow had struck him and he could hardly raise his arm without jarring pain. He found his loins were drenched with blood and he touched a wound low on his belly that he did not recall receiving.
Please, Sky Father, give me strength.
“Now you fight me, Leuhon,” Herkuhlos said, raising his voice to a shout.
The yotunan surprised him by shaking his head. “We must not. It is forbidden.”
Herkuhlos stopped. “What?”
Leuhon tilted his head. “We are gods, you and me. And the gods are forbidden to kill one another. There are few rules for gods. But that one is sacred.”
Herkuhlos almost laughed. “I am no god. And neither are you.”
Leuhon shook his head, the lion’s mane shaking and the fur catching the light of the sun. “We are the sons of gods. That makes us gods, cousin. You should stay, we can speak together. Come and eat with me.”
Scoffing, Herkuhlos stared in astonishment. “You are not the son of a god.”
“Two gods.” Leuhon held up two fingers. “My mother is the goddess Ekidna. My father is the god Typhon, brother of the Sky Father. We are kin, you and I.”
Herkuhlos shook his head, though there was doubt creeping in. “I do not believe you. The yotunan lie.”
“Yotunan, yes.” A smile spread on his twisted face. “That is what the gods call us. Demon, dura, yotunan. They are insults, words to unmake our glory by deceiving the minds of men.” He raised his arms and his voice. “I am Leuhon the Lion God!” He dropped his arms, his bronze armour clanking. “Once, I ruled alongside my brothers and my sisters the Stag God, the Boar God, the Bull God. Men brought us their sacrifices and we ruled them. And I doubt you have even heard the names of Geryon, Ladon, Wodra, or mighty Kerberos? Of course not. Your father could not slay us but he slew our people and so our glory was no longer sung.” He smiled, gesturing at robed men behind him and the warriors all around. “Until now.”
“You are mad,” Herkuhlos replied, confused and unnerved. “Your words have no meaning.”
Leuhon tilted his repulsive head. “Did you know that my father and yours fought a great war? If my father had won, it would have been the Sky Father who was imprisoned and we would have ruled the world of men.” He spread his huge arms and breathed deeply. “But now we are free once more and now we take our rightful place as the rulers of men.”
“You may have escaped from the Vale of Tartaros and crossed forest and plain but you cannot flee from me,” Herkuhlos said.
Leuhon sneered. “Escaped? We did not escape.” He pointed a huge hand. “Your father finally did something right. He freed us.”
“No,” Herkuhlos replied. “I do not believe your lies. The god Kolnos sent me to stop you all.”
Leuhon threw his head back and roared with laughter, the deep sound echoing from the walls. “So, Kolnos sent you to your death? He must despise you, cousin, to give you this task.” Leuhon’s smile faded. “Kolnos is a sly one. You should not heed his words. Him and his brothers and sisters are jealous of us and fear that our power will rival theirs. And they are right to fear us for we will cover all the earth with our rule.” His eyes shone from beneath the snarling jaws of the lion’s head. “We twelve are but a portion of our clan and the others have long been abroad in the wide world. We will make our most faithful acolytes and warriors into immortals and one day we will each will bring ten thousand mortal warriors filled with our power against those who name themselves gods. Kolnos and all those who worship him will fall. None of them will resist our might. Ekwa, Welnos, Heusos, Plenwhi, Heros, Manu, Yemo, all of them will submit to us or they will die.” Leuhon’s deformed lips pulled tight. “And then, when all his kin are ground into dust, even the Sky Father will bow down to our rule.”
A hundred questions flashed through Herkuhlos’ mind. Had Kolnos lied to him? Deceived him? Used him? If so, he would not be the first god to manipulate the actions of a man but still the thought stung like a wound. Did that deception somehow unmake his oath to slay the yotunan? No, it could not. The oath was spoken and so he was bound by it until the end.
But Leuhon also claimed that the yotunan had not escaped from the Vale of Tartaros beyond the Sacred Mountain. Rather that the Sky Father had freed them. That could not possibly be true.
Even if it was, Leuhon had declared his intention to make war upon the gods and those that worshipped them. No matter what Leuhon said, no matter whether he spoke truth or lies, he had to be slain. They all did.
“You are not a ruler but a devourer,” Herkuhlos said, lifting his club. “The gods bring order but you and your kind bring nothing but destruction. This land is not ruled it is emptied and broken. You have killed so many of my people. Your men slew my mother. You slew my sister. You destroyed my people. And I challenge you. Let us fight now.”
His voice echoed. Scores of men watched in silence.
Leuhon nodded slowly. “I hoped you would understand. You have a great strength in you, cousin, I see it. None could doubt that you are your father’s son.” The yotunan affected a sad tone. “In time, you might even have become as strong as one of us but alas you are not yet fully grown. You look like a new born foal, boy. It is a mistake for you to fight me. Come and sit with me a while and I will tell you all about your father and his kin and of the evil they have done.”
“I am strong enough to fight you. To defeat you.” He raised his voice. “But I see the truth that you are afraid to face me!”
Leuhon turned and waved to someone behind him in the shadows of the temple before turning back to Herkuhlos. “Such crimes you accuse me of. I claim them all with pride. They are my glory. Glory is won through great deeds. Through actions that change the world of gods and men. But there is one crime I did not do.”
He turned, reached down, and dragged someone forward to stand at his side.
A young woman with long fair hair.
“Laonome!” Herkuhlos cried, his heart pounding.
He stepped forward, unable to believe his eyes. His sister. She was alive.
“Go to him, child,” Leuhon said, almost affectionately.
Laonome walked slowly across the open space until she stood before Herkuhlos. There was muttering around him now but despite the eyes of so many on him he saw only her.
“Is it you?” he asked softly. “Is it truly you?”
She smiled. “It brings me joy to see you, brother. You have grown even taller.”
With one arm he pulled her into an embrace, though he was coated in blood. After a moment he held her away from him and looked down. “How is it possible? I saw you die.”
“I was bled, yes.” Laonome’s eyes welled with tears. “Bled to the point of death. But he came to me. He gave me his blood to drink. It healed me.” She hesitated. ““Leuhon says he will make me immortal. He says he will make me into one of the undying ones, like him.”
“He has hurt you.”
She shook her head, frowning. “He can be… kind. He calls me daughter.”
He glanced up at Leuhon who stood watching, his face expressionless. “Laonome, I am sorry but you must know about our mother. We escaped but we were caught by—”
“I know,” she said, tears flowing freely. “Kreuhesh told Leuhon. He told me.” She screwed up her face and shook her head. “Leuhon was angry and he punished Kreuhesh somehow.”
“It is my fault,” he replied. “I did everything wrong.”
“No,” she said, looking up sharply. “No, it was them.” There was fire in her eyes, drying her tears. “I want you to kill them.”
“Yes. And I will free you, Laonome,” he said softly and kissed the top of her head.
Keeping his eyes on Leuhon, he embraced her again with his free arm and held her for a moment. “Makros,” he said over his shoulder, and pushed Laonome gently away into his friend. “Take her to Bel.”
Makros led her away to the others behind Herkuhlos. Dehnu had given Belolukos blood from her veins to heal his terrible wound and though he was not fully healed he swept Laonome up into his arms.
Now there was nothing between Herkuhlos and Leuhon.
“You are no god!” Herkuhlos shouted. “You are a demon. A destroyer. And you are a coward. Fight me before your men or they will know you for the weak deceiver that you are.”
Leuhon stared at him for a moment. Slowly, he nodded his great head, the mane shaking above his shoulders.
“When I have killed this one,” Leuhon said, raising his voice as he addressed his warriors. “You will stop his followers from fleeing and then I will drink them. No one harms the girl.”
“You are evil,” Herkuhlos said, walking slowly toward Leuhon. “You are a monster. Devourer. Destroyer.”
Leuhon smiled as he turned his eyes upon him. “Boy, you cannot harm me. My skin is bronze. My strength far the greater.” His smiled dropped. “I shall break your bones and tie you to the stone of sacrifice. There I will flay you. It will take you many days to die, I will see to that.” He looked past Herkuhlos. “That one is magnificent.” He was talking about Dehnu. “I will take both of your women and if they are strong enough to bear my sons I shall make them my wives.”
Herkuhlos snatched up Belolukos’ broken spear, took a step and hurled it at Leuhon. He aimed for the yotunan’s neck where there was no armour protecting him but the spear was unbalanced without its full shaft. The giant braced himself, tucking his head down to protect his face, and the bronze spear hit the bronze armour of his chest with an almighty clang and bounced away.
By then Herkuhlos was already running at Leuhon with his bronze club in his hand, crossing the open space between them in a few swift strides. When Leuhon looked up from beneath the rim of his helm, Herkuhlos was already swinging his club in a wild arc. Leuhon stepped back and the blow landed on the armoured forearm of the giant with a loud clang as he swatted it away, sending Herkuhlos staggering. His arm rung from the impact but he swung again, aiming for the giant’s head.
For all his size, Leuhon was faster than a man and he punched a massive fist into Herkuhlos’ face before the blow could land. It broke his nose and for a moment he could see nothing but a cloud of silver boiling up from the depths of his blindness. Stepping back with his hands up his vision cleared just in time to see Leuhon’s kick coming. It was aimed at his belly but he darted to the side and swung his club sideways at Leuhon’s body. The impact clanged against the scales of the armour and Leuhon grunted but swung his fist backwards, catching Herkuhlos on the side of his head, sending him staggering once more.
This time he found himself sprawled in the dirt and scrambled to get up as Leuhon took two great strides toward him. Herkuhlos swung his club, aiming for Leuhon’s head but the giant turned the blow aside and stepped back as Herkuhlos swung again and again, each time the yotunan blocked the blows with his armoured forearms.
He caught the club in his hand and wrenched it from Herkuhlos’ grasp before punching him in the face again. By the time the blow landed, Herkuhlos was already throwing himself back from it. This saved him from the full force of the strike but the impact sent him reeling back four paces and he fell hard with his arms spread flailing. The impact knocked the wind from him and he smacked the back of his skull on the hard earth.
Leuhon looked at the club in his hand, grunted, and cocked his arm back.
Herkuhlos rolled aside just as the thrown club smacked into the ground where he had been lying before bouncing away. He jumped to his feet and with one eye on Leuhon he scrambled after the club and grabbed it as it rolled to a stop. It was a relief to hold it once more.
Leuhon’s lip curled up in disgust as he turned to his acolytes. “My spear.”
One ran forward with the weapon and held it out to his god before Leuhon snatched it away. It was taller than the yotunan and topped with an enormous broad shining spearhead. He levelled it at Herkuhlos.
“You could have been a god. Now you will not even be a man.”
Leuhon walked forward and brought his spear back. Breathing hard, Herkuhlos fought down the urge to run away and instead forced himself to close with his enemy.
He had to get close.
It was his only chance.
The yotunan’s spear came flying forward without warning, Leuhon rifling it through his hands with a flick of the wrist. By instinct alone Herkuhlos swatted the shining spear point aside with his club but the strength behind it was immense and it moved hardly at all. Enough to avoid piercing his chest but still the edge of the spear carved a gouge through his shoulder.
Herkuhlos yelled in agony and fear as he leapt away, feeling the hot blood gushing forth down his arm. He did not even have a moment to glance down at it before Leuhon’s spear came at him again, flicking sideways at his face and then his chest and low at his thighs and loins.
Retreating and fending the strikes with his club, his breathing was heavy and his heart raced. Sweat poured into his eyes and he felt sick, the blood from his wound running down to his hand and flying off in droplets as he defended himself.
The spear nicked a thigh above the knee and he jumped back, fearing to take another wound. The shining spearhead came up from nowhere and raked his chest, ripping through his skin.
