Wooden pews
exploded in showers of splinters
and embers, burst into flames and leapt from the floor as
the blue power snapped across the chapel in a series of crackling
pops and bangs. The marble slab on which Bane lay cracked with a
dull report, and the blue fire crawled up the walls to smash the
metal curtain rods with dull pings and clangs of tortured steel.
The stained-glass windows shattered with a roar and burst outwards
from their mountings in cascades of broken glass. The healers
screamed and cowered on the floor, hands clasped over their heads,
many writhing and groaning as they shared Bane's agony.
Ellese
recovered her wits and gestured to some of her sisters, who
hastened over to her, shielding their eyes. The flaring went on and
on, showing no sign of dimming. The destruction of the chapel
continued
. Tiles popped off
the walls to smash on the floor as the blue fire crawled under
them; tapestries were consumed in blasts of white-hot flame. The
chapel's heavy wooden doors burst outward, twisted on their iron
hinges, the wood splintered. The fire reached the roof and crawled
along the beams hewn from mighty trees. It reached the great
crystal chandelier that graced the centre of the chapel and snapped
its iron fixture, sending it crashing to the floor in an explosion
of flying glass. Healers shrieked and tried to flee, turned back by
snaking lashes of blue flame.
Accompanied by the reluctant
healers who had answered her summons, Ellese approached the
blue-mantled form. Grimacing as it burnt her, she thrust her hands
through the fire, her eyes closed. Her helpers did the same, though
two cried out as Bane's pain flooded into them and staggered back,
their burnt arms healing slowly.
Within the
blue fire, Ellese's hands touched Bane's chest. His heart
thunder
ed under her palms.
She fought to slow it, her healing hampered by the dark fire, which
flowed out of him in a seemingly endless tide. Her helpers groaned
and whimpered as the burning magic crawled up their arms and
reddened their skin. Ellese ignored the pain and concentrated on
keeping Bane alive, shuddering at the corruption within him. The
blue power reached the ceiling above the beams and blew chunks of
masonry out of it, burnt away the mural on the arched ceiling and
painted its blackened image in its place.
The flow of
black fire ceased. Several healers collapsed as the
agony released them. The blue magic
surged across the room, dwindling, then winked out, its source cut
off, snuffing out the white. Ellese slumped against Bane's
sweat-slicked chest, where the runes still glowed. Pushing herself
away, she looked up at him. He hung in the chains, his head bowed,
jet hair veiling his face. His heart still beat, and she sagged
with relief. Bane's loss of consciousness had saved them, for
without his mind, the black power became acquiescent, trapped
within him.
Never had she
imagined that he held so much power. It amazed her. No
mortal man should have been able to
contain so much, and still there was more. Shuddering at the
baleful glow of the four crimson runes that burnt like evil
sentinels, guarding the dark power within him, she gestured to some
healers to help her. They unchained him and lowered him to the
floor. He breathed shallowly, sweat oozed from his ashen skin, and
his lips were an unhealthy blood red. His lapse of consciousness
had saved him too, she suspected. Any longer, and he might have
died. His pounding heart slowed, the danger past.
Ellese knelt beside him and
brushed the damp hair from his face, lifting a lid to inspect a
blood-shot eye. Four women helped her to lift him onto the
stretcher that had been placed in the chapel earlier. They bore him
to his room, leaving behind the soft sobbing of the stunned healers
who sat amongst the debris.
Mirra rose from the chair with a
cry of dismay when they carried him in, hurrying over to his
recumbent form. She called his name, looking at Ellese for
assurance. Elder Mother rubbed her brow, still dazed. She pulled
the distraught girl away as the healers lifted Bane onto his
bed.
"He is all right, Mirra."
"What happened? He looks ill.
Like he did after he broke the seventh ward, only he is not
bleeding."
Ellese put a comforting arm
about her shoulders. "He had more power than I thought, that is
all." She shook her head. "It was incredible."
"You saw how much he has. He is
not just some black mage. He is the Demon Lord."
Ellese nodded. "I did not think
that he stored so much within him. He will be all right. We drained
a lot of it, but it will take longer than I thought, perhaps five
days. I will have to ask Baron Martal for help to keep the Black
Lord's army at bay until we have him ready. It means more killing,
but it cannot be avoided. We must protect him while he is
powerless."
The rest of
the healers filed out, muttering in subdued voices, casting half
fearful, half amazed glances at Bane. Mirra fetched a bowl of water
and a cloth and sat beside him to wipe his brow. Ellese hovered for
a while, then left to send her message to the Baron. Bane's
unnatural
sleep and renewed
illness dismayed Mirra. A scratching at the door made her look up.
Tallis hesitated on the threshold, wide eyes fixed on
Bane.
Mirra smiled. "Come in, Tal. It
is all right. He is unconscious."
Tallis sidled in, staring at the
still-glowing runes. "I heard what happened. Will he be all
right?"
"Elder Mother
says so." Mirra sighed, her eyes straying back to
hi
m. "I just wish it was
over, and he did not have to go through any more
hardship."
"He looks different,
peaceful."
"He is not a monster." Mirra
wiped his chest with the damp cloth, and Tallis winced as Mirra's
hand passed over the runes.
"How can you bear to touch those
evil things?"
"They do no harm, they are just
used to help him Gather and use the power."
Tallis shook her head. "I do not
know how you can stand to be near him after what he did to
you."
"Oh, do not be silly. He was
taught to hate people. How could you expect him to be kind? He is
different now. He would not harm you."
Bane
shifted
and sighed as Mirra
wiped his brow. His eyes opened and flicked around the room before
coming to rest on her. He winced and raised a hand to his head.
Mirra gestured for Tallis to bring her the cup that waited on the
table. Bane drank the potion and lay back again, closing his
eyes.
"How do you feel?" Mirra
asked.
"Bloody awful. Those damned
witches... healers almost killed me with their hare-brained
scheme."
"You gave them quite a fright.
They were not expecting so much power."
"What do they think I am, some
third-rate black mage?"
"They have not had to deal with
someone like you before. They did the best they could." Mirra
smiled, laying her hand on his chest to soothe him.
The lines smoothed from his face
as the potion worked, and he sighed again, opening his eyes. "I
thought I was going to incinerate the lot of them, but instead it
turned into a blue light."
"Yes, the white neutralised the
black, making it blue, which is neither good nor evil. Most mages
use the blue. The white is impossible to store. It is the Lady's
power, and rare. We are granted the eternal flame, but even that is
difficult to use, unpredictable and hard to control.
"The blue magic is the easiest
to wield, but also the weakest. It cannot stand against the black
or the white. Few use the black, for it corrupts the soul, and is
hard to store. Black mages are like leaky pots, Gathering while
they wield, but most of it seeping back out of them."
Bane's eyes roamed over her face
while she talked, occasionally flicking to Tallis, their gaze
cooling when they rested on her. "I was taught to hold the black
power, and the runes are part of that, allowing me to Gather more.
A few black mages tried to join me when I came from the
Underworld." He smiled. "They were pathetic, and did not stay long.
I think they felt rather inferior."
Mirra nodded. "The blue mage who
stood against you on the Isle of Lume knew that he had no chance.
He merely tried to speed your end. But the Lady blessed him when he
cried out to her. That is why his magic turned white."
Tallis spoke into the short
silence that fell. "Do you have no more power now, Demon Lord?"
Bane frowned, his eyes freezing.
"Would you like to find out, girl?" He sat up and swung his legs
off the bed.
Tallis backed away, encountering
a wall, her eyes wide with fright.
Mirra put a hand on his arm.
"She meant no disrespect. She was just asking a question, not
challenging you."
Tallis edged towards the door,
her eyes fixed on Bane, who glared at her.
"I do not need magic to snap
your neck like a dry twig, witch."
"Bane! Stop it." Mirra thumped
him. "Tallis is my friend. She was just curious."
Tallis blurted, "I am sorry,"
and fled.
Mirra frowned at Bane. "That was
not nice."
"She hates me."
"No, she is scared of you, and
you are not helping."
He rubbed his face, running his
fingers through his hair. "It feels strange, wrong, to be here, to
allow my power to be stripped from me. Without it, I cannot defend
myself against the Black Lord."
"He will not be able to harm
you. We will protect you until you are ready."
"You?" He lowered his hands as
his brows shot up. "A bunch of wi-healers is not going to stop his
army."
"No, not us. Ellese is sending a
message to Baron Martal. He will send an army to protect us."
Bane snorted. "An army of
primping lords and knights. I annihilated enough of them. They will
stand no chance against a dark army."
"Baron Martal is a powerful man.
He has many soldiers." Her tone was a little indignant. "They will
fight on the abbey grounds, so the Black Lord cannot aid his army.
They only have to hold them off until you are ready to face
him."
"What if the messenger does not
get through?"
"Our messengers always get
through. We have help from unexpected sources." Mirra smiled,
thinking of the winged friends that helped the healers. "Baron
Martal is sworn to protect us. He will come."
Bane lay back, looking tired. "I
hope you are right. How long will this... cleansing take?"
"Initially we thought three
days, but now Ellese says longer, maybe five."
He sighed, closing his eyes, and
she stood up. "Rest now, you must get stronger. You will need your
strength for tomorrow. I will bring you some food."
When Mirra glanced back from the
doorway, he was already asleep.
The purging went well the
following day. After an initial struggle to overcome his training,
the black fire burst from Bane again in an uncontrollable torrent
that scorched the walls and cracked the floor tiles, making the
attendant healers cower under their cowls. After several minutes,
Bane was able to bring it under control, and, heeding Ellese's
instructions, let it flow out slowly. A soft blue glow engulfed him
as the black fire trickled from his flesh, but the burning grew
unbearable, and Ellese stopped the purge. This time he was able to
walk back to his room, stumbling a little from weakness and
fatigue. He did not comment on the barren state of the chapel, now
devoid of ornaments, pews and hangings.
On the third afternoon, Baron
Martal's army arrived while Bane was sitting in the garden with
Mirra. The temple's inner garden remained green, for the creeping
death outside had not touched it yet. Bane's lip curled in derision
when the liveried troops marched into the courtyard and formed
orderly ranks with well-trained precision. Their bright yellow and
white tunics were covered with shiny chain mail, or, in the case of
the knights, polished armour. Plumes and banners fluttered in the
wind, sergeants shouted, trumpets bleated, and the men stood
stiffly, every lance in a perfect line.
Bane snorted. "Toy
soldiers."
"Baron Martal is a veteran of
many battles."
"He has never fought trolls and
grotesques. Where was he when I came through, hiding in his
castle?"
"He was waiting for you to come
to him," she said.
"Ha! What reason did I have to
go to him? Why was he not protecting a ward, or even a town?"
"At least he lived to fight this
battle."
"The Black Lord's army will
crush him."
She smiled at his pessimism. "I
think not. He has a great many more men than the Earl had. These
are just a few of them, and he is a seasoned strategist."
Bane watched the soldiers,
making no attempt to hide his scorn. "It is a good thing he only
has to hold them off for two days."
Raised voices made them look
around as Elder Mother emerged from the chapel, arguing with a
short, stocky man with a walrus moustache, a cloth-of-gold tunic,
and a swagger.
"Oh, dear," Mirra murmured. "I
think we should leave."
"Why?"
"I think Baron Martal wants a
word with you, and Mother does not seem to agree."
Bane gazed at the arguing pair.
"What does she think he will do?"
"He will probably goad you and
insult you, since he will not be pleased about guarding you. It is
your reaction I think she is worried about."
A malicious smile curved Bane's
lips. "I think I should meet him."
"No! Bane, come, let us go
inside."
With great
reluctance
, he allowed her to
tug him to his feet, still watching the duo. Baron Martal gave a
shout of triumph and marched towards them.