The Book of Wars Volume 1: Volume 1

By Nicasio Gomez

Diego was just crowned emperor of Serug with the help of his friends Athena the warrior, Patroclus the master thief and Vincent the necromancer. When Athena agreed to marry him he had everything a man could want but he wanted more. Patroclus opted for a simpler life, living on a small island off the coast of Xtulphdia with his wives and children. He would soon learn that helping to conquer an empire came with a price that had to be paid. All of them were enjoying their fortunes. All except for Vincent. From within his mountaintop hideout he studied death lore and he knew better. He knew that all good things must come to an end.
The seeds of discord start as they often do- with greed and corruption of power. Diego and his allies struggle to maintain the empire, but he has his eye on Patrocluss wives. After he attacks Patrocluss home his former friends ally themselves against him, sparking a war that draws heroes and heroines from various cultures to the banners of Athena and Patroclus. The armies converge on the imperial seat. The city of Quom is transformed from a center of imperial commerce to an inferno, hosting a multitude of the dying, dead and living dead. The living fight alongside the undead as demons of light circle overhead.
All hope seemed lost for Patroclus and the allies. They were completely surrounded, cut off from their reserves. And where was Athena?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Aug 28, 2013
• ISBN: 9781483678429

Nicasio Gomez

Nicasio is The Necromancer. He resides somewhere in the Chicagoland area.

Book preview

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VOLUME 1

Nicasio Gomez

Copyright © 2013 by Nicasio Gomez.

ISBN:      Softcover      978-1-4836-7841-2

                  Ebook         978-1-4836-7842-9

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Rev. date: 08/22/2013

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Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 1

The cold stone walls echoed the footfalls of armored feet. Imperial guards made their rounds about the castle at regular intervals. The patrols had been doubled ever since word was sent that a new emperor was to be crowned today. Nearly one thousand longbowmen patrolled the tops of the inner and outer walls of the imperial castle in the city of Quom. The citizens of Quom were preparing to celebrate the coronation. Most of the tens of thousands of citizens were bustling around making last-minute additions to the decorations, cooking for the day, and putting the finishing touches on their costumes. People and their beasts of burden made a steady progression from the far reaches of the empire through the outer city walls. Some of them ventured further to pass in through the inner city walls and in the double sets of walls of the castle.

The imperial castle was constructed of large blocks of granite. It had a main gatehouse of immense proportions which was equipped with four sets of gates, three portcullises, and numerous murder holes and arrow slits. There were four thirty-foot-high adjoining towers also bristling with arrow slits. The outer wall stood twenty feet high. Forty feet beyond lay the thirty-foot-high inner walls. Both sets of walls were topped by battlements. The area between the walls was known as dead man’s land, for it was filled with hundreds of magically animated skeletons. Towers dotted both sets of walls all around the castle. The alternating outer towers had a platform at the top level facing toward the castle. Each of the inner wall towers opposite them had a drawbridge for troops to use when they have to pass from the outer to the inner castle walls in haste. The main keep rose to over sixty feet high with four adjoining towers marking the four corners. Every section of the wall was pocked with arrow slits. A deep moat surrounded it all.

The twenty-first Se’rugian emperor had arrived at the imperial castle a few days earlier. Diego marched through the halls of the castle with his personal guards. He was armored from head to toe. The visor of his magically enchanted great helm was set and locked in the open position. Every inch of his plate mail armor absolutely glowed with magic.

Sire. A timid paige had scurried up to the Duke Diego.

Yes, what is it? asked Diego, not slowing one bit.

A fleet of ships just pulled into port, sire. They bear the standards of Athena and Patroclus, the paige replied.

They are here! bellowed Diego. He stopped and turned to the paige. The knights encircled the two men.

It would seem so, sire.

Excellent! exclaimed Diego. Have the servants prepare quarters for them and their entourage.

Yes, sire, he replied. Shall I have an audience planned for their arrival?

No, I’ll meet them in the main courtyard. Diego smiled at his guards. Have a few warriors prepared for entertainment.

Yes, sire! they hollered in chorus. One of the knights ran off, his armor rattling as he went.

Diego turned to his paige. I want a feast and a score of the harem slaves waiting in the arena when my friends arrive.

Yes, sire. With that, the paige scurried away.

Diego addressed the captain of the guard. Would you like to entertain or be entertained?

Whatever you wish, sire, replied the burly man.

Then participate in the duels then join us for the feast.

Thank you, sire.

Diego resumed walking. His knights followed.

The mooring lines whined in protest as the ship rocked to and fro in the waves. Dozens of shabbily dressed seamen meandered on the dock and ship’s deck. They took turns taunting the dockworkers. Others lashed down the sails and stowed the oars.

The doors to the captain’s cabin opened. Out came Patroclus, wearing a bright lincoln green leather armor set. Strapped across his back was a two-handed gem-encrusted bastard sword. To his sides were strapped several daggers. Lincoln green tights and knee-high black boots completed his ensemble. His jet-black hair was tied into a tail. He surveyed the dock with one sweeping glance, noting that a troop of twenty mounted men-at-arms was leading five carriages toward the ship.

It looks like Diego sent us a welcoming party! he shouted into the cabin. Patroclus smiled despite himself. A rare sight indeed, he thought, to be cordially greeted instead of outright attacked. Best to keep my guard up, just in case. Bemused, Patroclus walked back into the cabin and shut the door.

Inside, Captain Persephone, mistress of this ship and wife of Patroclus, was addressing a group. Although she was barely over four feet tall, the halfling commanded the respect of everyone in the room. Patroclus let his eyes slowly wander from her pointed ears to her violet eyes, to her full lips, and then down to her lemon-sized breasts and the slight curve of her hips and legs. He let his gaze stay on the small roundness of her buttocks until she coughed at him to stop.

Time for that later, thought Patroclus. Besides, the other wives will start to get envious soon, seeing as how I’ve had her in my chambers for most of the voyage. Oh, they’re all looking at me now. It’s a good thing I left most of my wives at home. How many do I have now anyway? Nearly two hundred! Or is it three? I don’t recall. Uh, oh, Heather, Sheena, and Marilyn know what I’m thinking. Blast those spell casters!

I heard that, said Marilyn. The elf winked at her husband. Her pointed ears pricked up momentarily. She and Sheena, the elf, were both dressed similarly to Patroclus, save that they were not wearing anything on their well-tanned legs, but they were wearing cloaks as all elves were accustomed to.

Sorry.

As I was saying, added Persephone, slightly annoyed, only a few of us will go. We will take no guards. The fleet must maintain a certain degree of readiness. After all, most everyone knows that my dear husband here was the assassin who ensured that the throne would be vacant for our friend Diego to ascend to it.

Shouldn’t we take guards, then? asked Menelicus. Menelicus was a pupil of Patroclus and by no means a coward but cautious to a fault. He usually opted to stay at home with his family rather than seek adventure. This trip was different though. It is not every day you get to see someone crowned, he thought.

No. The smaller the party the better. We do not want to attract too much attention. Persephone turned to Athena. You and your cousin Aludra will go.

Of course, replied Athena. Athena Tuff was her name. Tough as nails is what they called her when she wasn’t listening. She looked at her junior cousin, Aludra. Both women were deeply tanned from a lifetime outdoors, but whereas Athena’s hide was almost leathery, almost but not quite leathery at the age of thirty-something, her cousin’s teenaged skin wore well underneath her silken clothes.

I will stay with my ship, said Persephone. She heard Patroclus sigh, then quickly added, Marilyn, Heather, and Sheena will accompany Patroclus. I know they make a good team. And I know the three of you can keep him happy enough to not marry anyone else.

My brother goes too, stated Athena.

Yes, Ingevar goes as well.

Ingevar stood to attention. He saluted the captain. His mailed hand clinked against his helmet. He beamed a warm smile at his sister.

Well, that is that, said Persephone. Have fun at the castle. She leaped into Patroclus’s arms and wrapped her tiny body around him. Patroclus supported her with both hands on her bottom, kneading it—needing it. They exchanged a brief kiss, and then she landed on the floor with catlike grace. Persephone turned to the other wives and leaned her body against him. Take good care of him. The other three smiled.

Enough of this crap, remarked Athena. Let us go.

Aludra opened the cabin door. Everyone, except for Persephone, filed out.

Persephone’s quartermaster was conversing with a royal herald when they came out. Upon seeing them, he shouted up from the dock.

He wants to know if we will be needing extra carriages for the gifts! With that having been said, the entire crew started laughing. The laughter infected the crew of one of the other ships.

Patroclus leaped onto the railing. Then he somersaulted down to the dock to a standing position before the herald. He grabbed the man’s shoulders and half laughed at him, saying, Our only presents is our presence, my friend.

Ingevar, Menelicus, and the women walked down the gangplank to join them.

We are ready whenever you are, stated Patroclus. Take us to Diego.

The eight adventurers climbed into the carriages. The men-at-arms led the carriage caravan around the dock and into the city proper.

They passed through the outer city walls. Patroclus watched every smiling face; he gazed at every rooftop for the telltale glare of a quarrel tip. The peasants regarded the carriages with a restrained awe. Yes, thought Patroclus, you envy me now, but a few years ago, you would have stoned me to death if you could.

The carriage caravan wound its way through the imperial city, through to the inner city walls where the gentry lived. Here, the folks were quite different than those outside in the newer sections of town. The people here wore finely woven clothes with adornments enough to boggle the mind. Only the occasional stable boy or errand-bound shopkeeper from the outer city marred this picturesque spectacle. Groves and flower gardens graced both sides of the paved road.

A few minutes later, the mounted soldiers and carriages were at the gatehouse to the castle. One of the men shouted up to the watchtower. A guard shouted back. The gates creaked open, and the procession was led in by a guard. They passed through a second gatehouse and into the main courtyard. On either side of the vast courtyard were hundreds of men-at-arms standing in formation. They all bore shields and swords with the insignia of Se’rug.

Standing before the caravan was the imperial entourage. Diego, in his gleaming plate mail armor, stood at the forefront. Flanking him were a number of similarly armored knights.

The men-at-arms rode past the imperial entourage. They continued on toward a passage in between the keep and the castle wall. The carriages stopped before Diego. As Patroclus and the others climbed out of the carriages, a herald stood to attention on his perch in the foremost carriage. He announced their arrival.

Hear ye, hear ye!

Shut up, said Diego.

The herald complied.

Well, started Patroclus as he walked to Diego. The others followed. Look who went and got himself crowned emperor?

Not yet. Diego smiled. The ceremony is tonight in the main audience chamber. Dignitaries and royalty from every barony on the continent will be here to pay homage to the new emperor of the greatest empire in—

You sure do carry on, you do? asked Athena.

That is no way to address the next— growled Diego.

Get over yourself, Your Majesty, hissed Athena as she threw her arms around his armored neck. I was just teasing you, she whispered in his ear.

The carriages were driven away. They disappeared down the same passage by which the men-at-arms disappeared.

Since we have a few hours until the actual ceremony, I have arranged for some entertainment for us, stated Diego.

Excellent, said Patroclus. What exactly is it? And where is Vincent? Is he here?

Oh, you know how necromancers are, said Marilyn, rolling her eyes and shaking her head from side to side.

Yeah, all work and playing with dead things. Hello, must dash. See you next year or so, joked Patroclus.

He will be back, said Diego, ignoring their comments. These people have no respect for my position, thought Diego. Come, friends. The imperial guards opened the doors to the keep. Diego walked into the castle. The knights split up into two groups. One group followed Diego closely. The other group allowed Patroclus’s party to pass. Then they followed behind them. The imperial guards shut the doors with a resounding boom.

Diego led his entourage past the main audience chamber. The chamber was filled almost to capacity with all sorts of leaders, from rogue barons attired in their finest furs to dandies with laced gloves and powdered faces. The hushed murmurs of the chamber rose to an absolute throbbing hum with the emperor’s passing. Let them wait and fan themselves, thought Diego.

Athena peered into the room as she passed. She noted that the only empty seats in the great hall were those closest to the throne. Probably reserved for us, she thought. There are too many. Was he expecting more of us to show up? Maybe. Oh well. I am sure a bunch of these pansies will fill up the rest. Most of them are forced to stand anyway. I bet their lily white butts would like to sit and take a load off their soft-soled feet.

Moments later, they found themselves in a small arena. There were rows of seats encircling a pit only a few dozen meters wide. Falling portcullis passages marked the four cardinal directions around the pit. Diego seated himself on a throne overlooking the south entrance. His friends seated themselves on the seats around the throne. The knights took up positions all around the arena. The only other people in the area were imperial guards and servants.

Menelicus studied the domed ceiling. He whistled in appreciation as he regarded the bas-reliefs depicting gladiatorial battles.

Beautiful, is it not? queried Ingevar. He too had been studying the ceiling.

Mmm, muttered Menelicus in agreement.

The captain of the guard walked down a tunnel leading to the warriors’ quarters. A handful of knights followed him.

Servant! shouted Diego.

Dozens of servants issued forth from various tunnels and doorways. Each carried a tray heavily laden with food and drink. They swarmed all over Patroclus’s party. Each person lifted a goblet from a tray which was promptly filled with wine. They reached for roast fowl, cinnamon-smelling pastries, and all sorts of delicacies from around the empire.

The handmaidens stayed to refill goblets and offered more food as it was needed. One of the wenches even offered Patroclus a feather when he belched.

No, thank you, lass, said Patroclus. I prefer to digest my food.

Too bad Gwyneth does not, remarked Ingevar, laughing.

Patroclus glared at him. He did not appreciate quips regarding his wife. She was by far the thinnest of his wives, bones sticking out everywhere on her body. You could see the outline of her hip bones as she walked, but she was the daughter of a great king to the north and deserved more respect than that. Oh, how he missed her and the others. He could feel his manhood rising at the thought of her skeletal frame, her alabaster skin, her almost plane chest, and her soft never-had-to-walk-anywhere thighs.

Your Highness, when does the entertainment begin? asked Aludra.

Please, I am simply Diego, same as I always have been. That will never change, beautiful young lady.

You are wasting your charm on her, said Athena. Besides, I thought I was your one and only.

You are the one but not the only.

Patroclus guffawed, spilling his wine all over a handmaiden.

Shut up, you satyr, said Diego to Patroclus who was presently wiping wine from his chin.

The south and west portcullises opened up. The captain of the guard walked out of the south passage. He was stripped down to a loincloth and sandals. In one hand, he carried a broadsword. The other hand carried a buckler shield. His muscles rippled with every step he took as he approached the throne.

What a man, thought Athena. She tingled as she watched his stride. I hope he survives.

From the other passage walked out a similarly attired warrior. He was much larger in height and breadth. Both men converged in front of the assemblage. The captain of the guard and the other saluted the emperor. Then they faced each other and crossed swords.

Begin! shouted Diego.

The air sang as both men withdrew their swords. They took turns parrying and thrusting. For several minutes, they danced around each other, glancing blows off each other’s shields. The captain of the guard hooked his shield behind his opponent’s shield and pulled with all his might, sending the other man’s shield to the ground.

The captain of the guard bore his opponent back with his shield, slashing with his sword. The broadsword sliced deeply into the other man’s sword arm.

The crowd cheered.

Tossing his sword to the other hand, the warrior charged. He met the captain’s shield with his face. Another swing, the warrior was sliced across the abdomen. Blood poured out, but the muscles held.

The captain hit him in the face again with his shield. The warrior reeled back and fell, still holding his sword aloft. Swinging wide, the captain sent his opponent’s sword flying, along with a few fingers. He then straddled his fallen foe, discarding his shield to the hoots and hollers of the audience. The captain held his sword tip to the warrior’s throat. He looked toward Diego.

Diego curled his hand into a fist, holding it sideways. Suddenly, he pointed it up.

The captain of the guard stood. He helped his foe to his feet. They bowed to Diego and exited the arena.

Another pair of fighters came out.

Diego and his guests enjoyed ten duels. A few of the duels ended in death. The captain of the guard joined the feast after an acolyte healed him of his wounds. Halfway through the duels, the feast ended, and twenty slaves were led to the throne area of the arena. Half of the slaves were male, and all of them were wearing only smiles.

Diego took three of the harem slaves to an adjoining room where he enjoyed their company for the duration of the remaining duels. Athena led two of the females and all of the males to another room. Aludra grabbed three of the five remaining harem slaves and practically ran to a third room. One of the last two females sat on the captain of the guard’s lap. Menelicus and Ingevar each slipped a hand into the last slave’s hands, leading her away. Patroclus and his wives continued to watch the duels. After the duels, Diego and his friends retired to their quarters where the slaves cleaned them up for the night’s ceremony.

A couple of hours later, Diego was standing before the throne in the main audience chamber. He was draped in a long flowing robe of royal purple over his plate mail armor. His armor seemed brighter than before. Several clerics were standing before him, chanting in an ancient tongue. One of them held a crown so thick and gem-encrusted that his arms quaked with the strain of holding it steady. The assembled people stared in a hushed silence. Patroclus’s party was seated among the noblest of the nobles.

I should have been emperor, Patroclus heard a wizened old man whisper to his escort, a young woman no older than twenty. The old man, Patroclus later learned, was Count Monzeid. Patroclus kept him quiet with a glare.

The glitter of thousands of rare jewels shone throughout the hall. They decorated hats, broaches, cloaks, gloves, and a number of other places. Vibrant colors of silken dazzlement draped bodies of all shapes and sizes, mostly human but a few other races as well. The sound of pan flutes and reed pipes wafted through the hall in a lazy cascade.

Finally, the cleric holding the crown placed it on Diego’s head, blessing him in the process. Diego was ordained the twenty-first emperor of Se’rug. The assemblage clapped in unison. The cacophony rose to a crescendo as everyone who was seated stood up. Emperor Diego turned to the audience. He absolutely beamed with joy. Patroclus winked at him. Then