Chapter 289 - Army of the Undead part 1

We fled east, but we fled with a purpose now.

As we abandoned the Ural Mountains, we tried to come up with a plan to defeat Khronos. Our problem, we decided, was threefold. We needed to recruit an army of mortals willing to fight, and die, for our cause. We had to make more blood drinkers-- who were also willing to fight, and die, for our cause. And we had to discover some way to kill a true immortal.

That last seemed the most hopeless of the three. I had attempted to destroy my own immortal body countless times. I had tried to drown myself, only to discover that my remade flesh no longer required oxygen to live. I had impaled myself and let open my veins with a knife, only to watch the injuries heal as quickly as I could inflict them. I had tried fire and found that my ossified flesh would not burn. I had even thrown myself from a mountaintop. My body had shattered on impact like a piece of crockery, but an instant later the Strix sent out slithering tendrils, like frenzied black eels, and drew the pieces back together again. And let's not forget the millennium I had spent in the grinding maw of a glacier! It had reduced me to a mindless, crippled beast, but I had survived-- even that was not enough to destroy me-- and the living blood had restored me without a mark after my long imprisonment.

How could we destroy a foe that could not be drowned or burned? Who could be stabbed and speared and even torn to pieces, and still rise up whole an instant later?

The Ural Mountains had long faded into the dark behind us when Zenzele offered a solution.

"Perhaps we do not need to destroy them," she said. "Perhaps we only need to dismember them. Do as Khronos does: take them apart, and remove the pieces to great distances so that the blood cannot restore them."

Loping beside her through the grassy plains, I replied, "The idea is repellent to me. Must we become as cruel as our enemies in order to defeat them?"

Zenzele caught me with a glance. In each of her eyes was a tiny reflection of the moon, silver and shining. "We may have no choice."

Making new blood drinkers would be the easiest task. Who would not want our powers? Who would not want a shot at immortality?

We had already doubled our numbers. Hammon and his tribesmen raced alongside us, still unsure of their newfound gifts. They reminded me of baby birds, trying to learn how to fly. They moved too fast and blundered into everything in their path-- trees, pools, outcrops of rock. They jumped too high and fouled their landings. It would have been quite entertaining if we were not fleeing for our lives. All but Stine, the eldest member of their tribe, had survived the transformation. In one night, our group had swelled from five to ten, and one of them, the hermaphrodite Eris, had become an Eternal. That was a stroke of luck.

And we would need luck, lots of luck, if we hoped to defeat the God King's minions-- especially the Clan Masters.

Of all the blood gods in Uroboros, our most dangerous foes, apart from Khronos himself, was the Clan Masters. They were Eternals, like the three of us, impossible to kill, and just as powerful as their God King.

I had met only one, an ancient creature called Edron, with silver eyes and skin like the bark of a tree. An officious and humorless creature, he was the God King's majordomo.

There were twelve others, some with strange mental faculties, like Zenzele's "eye", others with exceptional physical gifts: prodigious strength, extraordinary speed and grace. They were not all warriors. In fact, half of them were debauched and indolent creatures, accustomed to lives of ease and self-indulgence. They were craven and cruel, but if we sought to depose the God King, we would have to contend with all of them. We would have to defeat them or persuade them to change allegiance, which was not something I thought very likely to happen.

"Tell me of the Clan Masters," I said to Zenzele as we travelled.

"Can you not access the memories I have Shared with you?" Zenzele asked.

"I can, but I would have your present opinion of them," I said. "Besides, it will help to pass the time."

"Counting me, there were fourteen," Zenzele said. "Edron you met. Like me, he is a clan of one. He ruled several houses at one time, but turned them over to his Eternal child Ghanima when she was made, so that he could better serve his God King. He is fiercely devoted to Khronos. He is probably the most powerful of all the Eternals, apart from his master. He might look like a wizened old man, but he is physically very powerful, and completely merciless.

"His T'sukuru daughter, Ghanima, is just as powerful and ruthless," Zenzele continued. "She controls three houses, comprised mostly of warrior caste blood gods. There is Epault, a red-haired T'Sukuru from the north, like you. There is Lethe, and Yul, and Nesthe. All three are fierce warriors, and control several powerful houses. Some others, like Horas and Jelt and Moira, we do not need to worry about. They are weak-willed. Cowards, really. They might fight if their back is to the wall, but they are more likely to flee from battle than put their precious hides in harm's way. There are two who might ally themselves with us. They are Druas and Wen. They have no love for Khronos, and nothing but contempt for T'sukuru society. Like you, they revere their former mortal lives. Then there is Palivfer's maker Qor, and an Eternal named Baalt. Baalt is quite mad, a very dangerous blood god. He is able to drink the potashu of other T'sukuru without Sharing their memories. He has been known to feed on weaker blood drinkers rather than mortal men. It is a terrible thing to witness. The God King forbids it, unless a T'sukuru needs to be executed. Then he allows Baalt to do it for his entertainment." She glared at me, her lips peeled back from her teeth. "He likes to watch it."

I stopped. "This kills them?" I asked.

Zenzele leapt past me, then bound back. "Kills them?" she echoed. "Yes. Of course it does."

"Has Baalt ever attacked another Eternal? Drained them of their living blood?"

"Not that I know of."

"I wonder," I mused, stroking my beard, "what would happen if Baalt fed on another Eternal? What if he drained one dry?"

Zenzele shook her head. "I do not know."

"Perhaps we should try to find out, if the opportunity ever presents itself."

"Try to drain a Master of their potashu?" Zenzele said dubiously. "We would not be able to do it. The Sharing would prevent us from harming them. You know what it is like. It would be like destroying yourself. Murdering the one you love most in the world."

"Many men and women have killed the ones they loved," I said, but I could see that the idea horrified her. The Sharing is so powerfully intimate. It would be like murdering your soul's mate while making love to them—but again, that is something I am sure men and women have done before. Many someones, I would wager, and many times.

Perhaps, I thought. Perhaps…