Age of the Gods: The Complete, twelve novel, fantasy series (The Blood and Brotherhood Saga) by Jeremy Laszlo Page A

sweet fruits.
    The three friends sat back on their elbows, enjoying their full stomachs and the sun’s warmth. The street was fairly quiet, except for a few voices from the small shops and stalls nearby. Occasionally someone would come down the road and disappear into the brothel across the street. Seth couldn’t help but notice that Garret still watched it longingly, just as he had the night before, observing the building silently. Turning his gaze from his brother, Seth too began admiring the red curtains that hung in each and every window, playing with ideas as to what might be happening behind them at this very moment. It was an enticing daydream he was having when it was suddenly interrupted by the muffled scream of a woman. The scream was then followed by the deeper, hate-filled yells of a man. Though none of the boys could make out he words, each of them now followed the sounds with their eyes. The screams and yells seemed to go back and forth between the woman and man, and seemed to be making their way across the building. The boys continued to trace the sounds, as much with their eyes as their ears as each of them sat upon the step of the inn, looking at the door opposite them. The yells had stopped moving at this point, going back and forth from man to woman just behind the door.
    The man roared something, which was replied to by a scream from the woman and followed shortly by a loud thud against the inside of the brothel door. At this sound the boys all stood, making their way to the bottom of the steps, still staring at the door across from them, their heads all tilted in an effort to hear better. Something, they knew, had just gone horribly wrong inside the building. The cries stopped altogether. Seth was walking slowly across the street to listen better when the brothel door swung slowly open. From it a figure appeared. It was the woman. She was small, almost fragile looking, and young as well. She stumbled out of the door, leaving it open. Her long black hair trailing behind her, her hands rose to wipe the tears and blood from her face. Seth continued to cross the street unsure of what, if anything, he could do to help her. She seemed not to notice his approach, instead she looked back defiantly towards the open door she had emerged from.
    The man’s yell came again from inside.
    “You get back here girl!” the voice yelled in rage. “I own you.”
    The small woman’s face crumpled, no longer holding a look of defiance. Her features twisted, the confidence that was evident before now replaced with defeat. She stumbled again as if dizzy, and took another step, only this time it was in the direction of the brothel, as if she would indeed return. She stopped then, dead in her tracks, as the man who had been yelling came to stand in the doorway.
    “Where do you think you’re going?” he mocked her. “You get back in here and clean up this mess you left on the back of my door.” He pointed to where her blood smeared wetly down the wooden surface.
    It was then that Seth recognized the man. They had seen him the night before and watched him leave the inn, drunk, after bludgeoning another man nearly to death with a bar stool. It was John.
    The large man stepped out into the street, his eyes on the girl, a short steel rod in his hand.
    “You get your ass back in here,” John snarled at the girl, “or I’ll drag your lifeless body back in!” He continued hurling threats at her as he slowly staggered out of the door into the street.
    Without thinking, Seth raced the short distance between him and the girl, coming to a stop beside her. He glanced at her pain-stricken face, and took the last few steps to place himself between her and the man that had attacked her. Looking John in the face, eye to eye, Seth reached down and pulled his sword halfway from its sheath, revealing to the man its deadly blade. John appraised Seth, and seeming to decide he wasn’t a big enough threat, continued towards him, raising