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  The Gods Warriors

  By Sean Liebling, Copyright © 2014

  The Gods Warriors

  By

  Sean Liebling

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination and are used fictitiously. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used in a fictitious manner.

  All Electronic and Print Editions

  Copyright © 2014 Sean Liebling

  All rights reserved. No part of this document may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without prior written permission from the author.

  This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. This is a work of fiction. Any similarities to real persons, events, or places are purely coincidental; any references to actual places, people, or brands are fictitious. All rights reserved.

  Cover Art by Shaed Studios, http://www.shaedstudios.com

  Professionally edited by: Bill De Herder

  Please visit us at http://www.seanliebling.com to join our mailing list and for additional content to this book, including expanded scenes and upcoming new releases.

  More from Sean Liebling

  Blood, Brains and Bullets

  http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00AVLL5XE

  Legacy of the Living

  http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00DJKF602

  The Reaper: No Mercy

  http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00OVGEXNY

  The Creation Effect

  http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00R9UIACY

  The Reaper: Avenging Wraith (The Reaper: Book 2)

  Coming Very Soon!

  Sacrifice of the Damned ( BBB: Book 3)

  Coming Very Soon!

  You can reach me, and join my mailing list at mailto:[email protected],

  or on facebook at:

  https://www.facebook.com/sean.liebling.9

  And, please visit my website at: http://www.seanliebling.com

  Dedications:

  To my grandson, Cameron, who passed away this year. Little guy, never had a chance.

  To my mother, Katherine McCaffrey for hanging in there with the cancer.

  To all those I love and cherish in my life, whether or not they supported me in this endeavor.

  To all the brave men and women either currently in or having served in the Armed Forces of the United States of America, including all Police, Fire and Emergency Response personnel. From a Marine to all of you, I Salute You with Honor! Thank you for all that you do and have done. Semper Fi.

  Acknowledgements:

  I would like to acknowledge a few people who inspired me and ultimately made me decide to write my own series of books.

  To my family and friends who provided support and encouragement during the writing process and late night monthly BS sessions before, during, and after development.

  The following people helped tremendously with getting book two out. My Beta Group I love you. Special thanks to all of them.

  Author Note: Must Read

  This is another Christmas gift to all my fans for hanging in there. Although I never expected too, I did receive this book back from the editors in time to get it out for the holidays.

  I owe, all of you, tremendous thanks for your support and encouragement. This last year was a tough time for me. Multiple family members diagnosed with cancer, deaths, and other issues involving close family. It was a very rough year for me starting from fall before last. It's easier to slip into depression than to escape that nasty beast, but I feel I finally have.

  Currently I'm writing a book a month with three in editing right now, so you will see a lot more titles with my name on them in the extremely near future.

  Now, about this novel and new series. This is completely a work of fiction and in no way expresses my beliefs or the beliefs of anyone I know. That said, I absolutely love it! It is a new spin on creation. Just one of thousands us authors have written over the years.

  So, this is a fun book, well written, but fun nonetheless. Great characters, romance, death and destruction, nail biting suspense, and exhilarating feats of almost superhuman achievement against overwhelming odds in my typical style. It's fun and I enjoyed writing it. I'm sure you'll enjoy reading it. And if you wish, wait until after the edited version comes out after I receive it back.

  Best always to you and yours,

  Sean Liebling

  P.S. Oh the map. Well. Let's just say I am a really bad graphic artist. Sorry about that, but I did want everyone to have a visual representation of how the countries laid out.

  The Gods Warriors

  More from Sean Liebling

  Dedications:

  Acknowledgements:

  Author Note: Must Read

  Prologue

  ~Onias~

  ~Elsa~

  ~John~

  Chapter 1

  ~John~

  Chapter 2

  ~Elsa~

  Chapter 3

  ~Onias~

  ~Ares~

  ~John~

  Chapter 4

  ~Elsa~

  ~The Dark Excellency~

  Chapter 5

  ~John~

  Chapter 6

  ~Ulf~

  ~The Dark Excellency~

  Chapter 7

  ~Elsa~

  ~Sierra, Priestess of Hera~

  Chapter 8

  ~John~

  ~Ares~

  Chapter 9

  ~Thorvald, the Thana~

  Chapter 10

  ~Elsa~

  ~Lorr -Sorlen~

  ~The Wolven~

  Chapter 11

  ~Dru~

  ~Ares and Hera~

  ~Neven~

  Chapter 12

  ~John~

  Chapter 13

  ~Thorvald~

  ~The Lorr - Cyrus~

  ~John~

  Chapter 14

  ~Elsa~

  ~The Gods - Hera~

  ~The Dark Excellency~

  ~Dru~

  Chapter 15

  ~The Wolven~

  ~Rawkin Garro~

  Chapter 16

  ~John~

  Chapter 17

  ~Elsa~

  ~Dru~

  Chapter 18

  ~Eric of the Thana~

  ~Neven~

  ~Dru~

  Chapter 19

  ~The Dark One~

  More from Sean Liebling

  Prologue

  ~Onias~

  Snarling a vicious oath, Onias Allard swung his sword in a sweeping downward arc to behead the armored figure before him, then lashed out with his mailed fist to punch the now dead soldier's companion in the chest, knocking him backward to sprawl onto the ground. With a lunge forward, he stomped down hard on the prone figure’s thigh, thrusting inward to pierce where the front and back torso plates hinged together, the victim lifelessly rolling sideways. Yanking his sword free from the chest cavity of the shuddering figure below him, Onias lashed out in a sideways motion to overtake a third man in the face with a mailed fist, enclosing his heavy sword. The metal of the helm caved inward, and Onias could feel the bones of his opponent’s face crunch beneath his hand.

  Of the soldiers arrayed against Onias and his men, all had the Illian tattoo on their right cheekbone under the eye, all with the telltale signature of brown hair and dusky skin, which were characteristic of that people. The tattoo of the partial moon crescent, along with two stars within the border of its circle,
denoted their country of origin, along with the region of that country, the entire tattoo inked in black. He and his men wore a uniform square with eight stars arranged in a semicircle underneath, which denoted the states of Korath. Scattered throughout their number where some with more than a single tattoo, arrayed in a descending line down their cheek in ranking order. As he finished with his latest conquest, Onias looked down to note that this fallen man had four tattoos marching down his cheek, indicating that he had accepted citizenship from no less than four countries.

  The Illian forces had attacked at dawn four days previous, swept through five villages, and were in the process of laying siege to one of the smaller towns along the western border of the stricken country before adequate resistance rose against them. It had taken the kingdom of Korath all of that and then some to bring significant forces to the embattled region to combat this latest incursion. Off-hand, Onias was not exactly sure why the Illians raided every year or so, other than to acquire breeding material in the form of young women and livestock. However, in each case of invasion, they left with far fewer people than they came with. He did know that Korath was luckier than Jordache, who had to put up with these raids much more frequently.

  Upon reaching his majority at the age of sixteen, Onias had seen the end of the latest Illian attack. That, a true invasion, had seen eight villages burned to the ground and one medium-sized city before the invading horde was defeated. Of the twenty thousand Illians engaged in that madness, less than five thousand remained alive to throw across the joint border. Onias clearly remembered watching as the veterans came home with missing limbs and then the announcement for settlers to take over the newly devastated land. Onias could also remember how the fires of revenge had burned brightly within his young body, and the need to pick up sword and shield while marching across the mountain ranges to take the fight to the honorless curs. Not young enough to have gotten in the fighting, Onias nonetheless joined the legion of Korath shortly afterward, while hoping and praying their king would finally allow the companies to raid and pillage their smaller, yet rabid, neighbor. To date, that had not happened.

  At roughly one thousand, the current attack was smaller in comparison to previous incursions but possibly more vicious, as this time the Illian vanguard contained wizards to lead the way. Although it was not a new phenomenon, it was unusual as the Illians rarely risked their limited magical talent. Scouts had relayed all necessary information two days ago, and Onias's assigned company with two others rode hard to halt the attackers in place while two more companies of Korath guard had circled to the north before heading straight west to cut off their supply and spoils route at the Ymar pass. This was vital if they hoped to get any of their people back. From experience, Onias knew all they would find is caravans of farm animals and young girls and women as the Illians killed off all men and male offspring when they attacked. That was yet another of many reasons Onias hated them with a passion unparalleled, for he had lost two male cousins almost his own age, six years ago.

  Onias also advocated invading Illian and putting a final and complete end to this endless series of heavy raids and small invasions. He wanted to take the passes, press inward, and get all of their people back after one of the Illians’ unsuccessful attacks, but there were two large problems with this. The passes were steep on the interior near Illian itself with fixed fortifications that would have meant disproportionate losses on the side of Korath, and two, the Illians were allied with the dark ones.

  The dark ones were another matter entirely. There were simply too many of them for Korath to take on by itself. Even with the full support of the Alliance, it would be a chancy prospect as history had proven, for the dark ones attempted world domination every five hundred years or so. So far, unsuccessfully, but that could change on the next attempt. The best solution was to leave the dark ones alone.

  His father always said the Illians’ constant futile attacks against overwhelming odds and thick, rugged, yet similar, features denoted inbreeding. At the time, young Onias could only hold his tongue while nodding mutely, for it was true that with each attack, the Illians lost far more fighters than they gained in slaves. His father also said the Illians must breed like locusts to afford repeated losses of such magnitude. Now, at this day and time, Onias was able to pay the enemy back for the losses his family had suffered, for he was the captain of a company numbering almost two-hundred, and the first thing he had done when arriving at the front was to throw them into the fray.

  "Form on me, men, and we shall push the bastards back!" Onias shouted as he leaped over the three bodies to engage the next two figures before him. To either side, his men lined up in rows beside their captain, not quite shoulder to shoulder, for you needed room to swing a sword, but close. Interspersed between the sword wielders, men with long heavy spears thrust forward, impaling the enemy even through plate armor. Arrows arced overhead as archers behind them fired over the defenders and bodies tumbled to the ground as the iron tipped wooden shafts pierced their ranks. An enemy arrow shattered as it struck Onias's forearm guard, causing almost no damage, other than a thin cut where his skin showed between layers of protection. In the distance, Onias could see orange, red, and blue fireballs traversing the skies as the enemy wizards cast their mighty spells of destruction.

  A man screamed in pain to his right, and after knocking aside a sword, attempting to spear him in the face, his own sword took the man through the throat and spine. As the soon-to-be-dead attacker collapsed boneless to the ground, Onias turned in time to see another assailant pull his sword from the belly of one of Onias's men while shouting with glee. A glee that was short lived and a shout that turned into a scream as Onias's sword took the man through the chain mail covering his midsection, the links parting like water through the savagery of his thrust. Lifting him into the air by the strength of his arm, Onias slung him forward into more of the enemy, ripping the chainmail wide open as blood spurted in all directions. The body hurtling through the air opened a momentary path through the battling lines, and Onias instantly ran forward, shouting.

  "Charge, you bastards. Carry the day for Korath!" Behind him, the cry was taken up by his men. "Korath, Korath," as more bodies spilled into the breach, Onias's own spearhead forging forward towards the enemies’ main contingent of leaders and wizards, who were hiding safely behind the rear lines of their men.

  ~Elsa~

  Elsa Dragod paused as she reached the end of the column and turned sharply, her raven black ponytail flipping around then slapping against her back as she reversed her steps, her eyes never leaving the men and women arrayed before her while she tapped the sheath of the sword at her side with each step. This was her company, hers, the best of the best, or at least she told herself that and trained them to be so. They had not started out that way but with hard work and training had become just that. Blood, sweat, and tears had forged this company into the finest in the kingdom of Jordache, the parcel of dirt they called home.

  The leather jerkin with its steel breast and back plates weighed lightly on her six-foot robust frame, though her chest ached slightly from the compression. Once cinched tightly to her torso, the breastplate squashed her breasts unmercifully against her ribcage, and she knew from past experience that the dull ache would turn into actual pain before the day was out. She and her sister warriors hated the necessity of wearing the breast plate,but it was the only material capable of shielding against sword and spear strikes, while remaining light enough to maneuver in. The designers had attempted to alleviate this issue for women with a female version that had two convex mounds on its upper surface,conforming to the female breast, but the extrusions were small and Elsa was quite large.

  Dark brown leather pants with cuisses strapped to them, along with greaves over her shins and heavy leather boots, completed the picture of the captain of a Jordache company. Combined with her medium blue eyes and strong features, she cut a striking figure, not beautiful, but memorable.

  As she passed
each of those beside her, gazing into their eyes, lightening quick flickers observed the state of their combat dress. Halfway down the line, she suddenly swiveled her head with sharp and deadly eyes to the man two paces behind her.

  "Johann! What in the three levels of Hell do you think you're doing?" she shouted. Even as she spoke, she saw his eyes leave the guard next to him and quickly swivel forward with the others, a sheepish grin on his face. A grin cut short as she turned completely around, heading in his direction.

  "Nothing, Commander!" he shouted back. However, it was too late, as her strong right hand snaked out to grip the leather of his neck guard, pulling his eyes even with hers. Though he outweighed her by at least thirty pounds, Elsa was stronger and used this to her advantage, pulling him closer until mere inches separated their eyes.

  "What did I tell you about talking in ranks when under inspection, soldier?!" she screamed into his face, seeing specs of spittle coating his cheeks. Not because she was particularly upset, but because it would probably hurt his eardrums and scare the hell out of him, which was what she intended.

  "That you would make my life miserable, if you ever caught me again, Commander!" he shouted in response with a look of chagrin on his face.

  "Dress full pack, including weapons, twenty laps around the training field, and three days of extra guard duty. I hope it was worth it," again she shouted and saw his eyes cringe at the punishment. Inwardly, she grinned and turned away as his shoulders slumped. She watched out of the corner of her eye as he trotted to the sacks filled with fieldstone by the side of the training field shed, where they stored their practice gear. Each pack weighed approximately eighty pounds.It was her favorite punishment for those unfortunate enough to get on her bad side. Everyone at one time or another talked in ranks, but it was the fact that he had been obvious about it, allowing others to see and for her to catch him at it, that was disrespectful. It would have set a bad precedent to let it go unpunished.