Two more healers fled, and the
rest struggled against the terrible nausea, many doubled over,
their faces pale. The pain went beyond mere sickness. It burnt
Ellese’s flesh as if fire ran in her blood, the dark power invading
her with its foulness. The women who held his other arm could stand
no more and let go, staggering away. Bane cast Ellese an angry,
triumphant smile as he jerked his arm from her weakened grip,
striding out of the door. She slumped with relief as the evil power
vanished with him, then gathered her strength and hurried after
him, leaving her sisters to console each other and recover from
their ordeal.
Ellese caught up with Bane on
one of the many balconies that gave a view of the surrounding
countryside. Usually it was a pleasant vista, but now she could
hardly bear to look at the dying land. In the distance, a formerly
peaceful snow-capped peak belched lava and black smoke, lighting
the dark clouds with its red glare. Grey ash drifted down,
blanketing the ground in a funeral shroud. Bane stared out at it,
his gaze fixed on the place where the angry clouds seemed to touch
the ground. Lightning pounded the earth there in an almost constant
barrage, the thunder reaching them seconds later, deep booms and
roars that shook the ground and rattled the abbey's windows.
Ellese knew that this was the
Black Lord's location, where he waited for Bane to walk into his
trap. Bane turned as she came up to him.
"Do not ever do that again, or
next time I will burn you."
She met his angry eyes. "I had
to stop you, and if I have to do it again, I shall, regardless of
your threats."
He studied her. "As you see, I
am still here."
"Yes."
"And you had better pray you are
right, or you will all pay."
"You know I am right." She moved
closer, trying to read his tense face. "Mirra will be all right,
although I weep for her suffering."
"As you did when she suffered at
my hands?"
She nodded. "We all did, and our
prayers gave her the strength she needed to withstand it, just as
they do now."
"That which she suffered at my
hands is nothing compared to what she will suffer at his."
"I know, but the Lady will
protect her and give her strength."
Bane turned to gaze at the
distant, lightning-shot clouds, his expression grim. "She will need
it."
Arkonen reappeared in the rune
room of the old temple, furious that he had waited for almost an
hour, and Bane had not come. The glowing runes on the walls flared
when they detected his presence, then dimmed as they identified
him, for they were keyed to react only to Bane's aura. When Arkonen
had realised that the Demon Lord had survived the wound the demon's
spear had inflicted, he had carved two new runes with the power to
identify Bane, so he could not rescue the girl.
The runes would trigger the
ancient Fetch, and cast any occupant of the room into the
Underworld. The Fetch would also be activated by the use of dark
power to create another channel. Arkonen had created the Fetch when
he had built the temple, before the goddess' mages had trapped him
below. Originally it had been intended as a trap for the Lady, and
many of her worshippers had been brought to the room and tortured
to try to lure her into it. He had waited in the Underworld, so she
would think it safe to enter the room and save her people, and he
had intended to trigger the trap from below.
Instead, she had trapped him, a
fact that still rankled. A rough shove sent the girl staggering to
the bed, where she collapsed, sliding to the floor and curling up,
pale and sick from the power that had surrounded her during the
Move. He swung to face the priest droge, who cowered from his
ire.
"He did not come. Why not?"
"Perhaps he is too weak, Lord."
The droge smiled soothingly.
"He hides in
that damned place like a cur! I cannot Far See him
as long as he refuses to leave the
protection of the white power. Is he healed or is he
dying?"
The former priest spread his
hands. "Time will tell, Lord."
"And if he is healed, time makes
him stronger."
"But if he is too weak to fight,
your army will overrun the abbey, and once the white fire is
snuffed out he will be at your mercy."
"If he is not, he will smash
them again," Arkonen fumed.
"Perhaps he is not as fond of
the healer as you thought?"
"No, he is."
"Then it can only be that he is
not strong enough to face you, and your army's attack will weaken
him further. And, if he is too badly injured to fight them, victory
will be yours in just a few hours."
"Yes." The Black Lord nodded.
"But he should have been dead by now, if he had not been
healed."
"Perhaps if you sacrifice the
healer, he will come."
"He is not
watching. Deliberately, I suspect. All that will do is release her
from her suffering. Her soul is not yet mine. But her corruption
goes apace, and it will not be too long now before she is mine.
Only then will she die." He turned to look down at Mirra
with a satisfied smirk.
"You are infinitely wise,
Lord."
Arkonen waved a hand, dismissing
him, and studied the girl. The blackened, scaly skin had reached
her elbow, and her hand was a twisted, clawed thing. It amazed him
how slowly the transformation was taking place. His power was
triumphing, however, and the vast amounts of dark magic now
emanating from his new temple aided it. Soon enough she would be
his. She looked ill, her skin dewed with sweat from the fever that
raged within her as her body tried to fight the invasion of alien
flesh. It would fail. Since it had taken hold, she had ceased to
speak, and become dull-eyed and apathetic. He turned and strode
out.
Martal handed the spyglass to
Ellese, his expression grim. After gazing through it, she lowered
it.
"So, the Dark Lord sends his
army back to finish us off."
"And they will. If anything, it
looks like more than before."
"Bane will protect us."
"In case you have not noticed,
he can barely stand."
Ellese sighed. "It does not
matter, although another fight will weaken him."
"I do not think this one can be
avoided." Martal peered through the spyglass again. "There are
demons with them, as before."
"To goad them on, force them to
attack even though they fear Bane."
Ellese glanced
at the
dark folk camped on
the hallowed ground, who had stirred from their fires to stare at
the approaching army. Their number seemed few compared to the horde
that approached, and their glum expressions told of their
trepidation. Many cast hopeful looks at the temple, clearly wishing
that the Demon Lord would make an appearance. Ellese doubted that
they had ever craved his presence before, and almost pitied them.
Mirra, she reflected sadly, would have found pity in her heart for
them, but the atrocities Ellese had witnessed them commit had
hardened her heart.
The distant host emerged from
the forest, advancing swiftly this time. A pillar of fire appeared
in their path as one of Bane's fire demons moved to confront them,
swelling from the tiny flame it had been whilst it had waited. A
lash of its eyes turned a dozen of the foremost dark people to ash,
and those behind howled with terror. Many tried to flee, but their
fellows penned them in, pushing forward relentlessly as the demons
behind them drove them on.
Two earth
demons rose from the soil to stamp out the lives of any who came
near them, their fists crushing bones and skulls with sickening
thuds. The
dark folk surged
away from them, flowing around them like minnows around feeding
sharks. Another fire demon appeared in their midst, incinerating
dozens with flashes of bright fire and the burning lash of its
blazing eyes. Screams tore the cold, smoky air, and faint, agonised
cries came from the woods, where Bane's creatures of darkness lay
in ambush.
Still, they poured from the
forest in an endless tide, and those who eluded the demons charged
towards the hallowed ground. All of Bane's demons were now in the
fray, and the Black Lord's earthen minions rose from the soil to
confront them. Four fire demons drifted into the battleground as
flames before swelling to awesome size and ferocity as they
attacked the defenders. A fire demon battled two earth demons,
burning chunks from them while the earth demons tore and stamped
its flames, making it darken and swirl like a wind-blown campfire.
One of the earth demons slumped into a pile of soil, and Martal
grunted in surprise.
"Do they destroy each
other?"
"No."
Ellese swung around with a gasp.
The Demon Lord stood behind them, watching the battle.
"They go below when they are
defeated, but they cannot rise again for a time. Their strength is
drained," he explained.
"Of course." Martal looked sour,
hiding his shock at Bane's sudden appearance. "Such as they would
not give their lives to protect an abbey."
"They cannot destroy each other.
Their retreat is involuntary. Only the Black Lord or I can destroy
them."
Martal took a surreptitious step
away from Bane, raising the spyglass again. A slight smile curled
the Demon Lord's lips. Ellese turned her attention back to the
battle just as a band of trolls triggered one of Bane's traps. A
flare of shadow rose in a grasping hand that snatched the entire
group down, sucking in those on the edges as well while flattening
those beyond them. A deep rumble shuddered through the earth, and
Ellese shivered. The sight of so much death, even if it was too
distant for her to sense, sickened her, and Bane's traps horrified
her.
Several
hundred
dark folk made it
onto the hallowed ground and charged the temple, howling and
shrieking. Bane's army rushed to meet them, and they came together
with a sickening crunch of flesh and metal. A fierce, bloody battle
broke out, which made many of the healers who watched turn away and
cover their ears to block out the terrible screams. Ellese glanced
at Bane, wondering if he was enjoying the carnage, but his
expression was unreadable. Another trap was triggered, sucking a
company of goblins into the pit to be incinerated. Three earth
demons snuffed out a fire demon, and two more earth demons slumped
into piles of soil.
Bane walked
away, then vanished. He reappeared beyond the holy ground, in full
view of the enemy. Ellese
’s
breath caught as he raised his arms, expecting the black fire to
pour from him in another orgy of death, but instead he shouted
words that she could not hear. Most of the dark people stopped
fighting and turned to stare at the Demon Lord, their enemies
forgotten. A few continued to hack and stab at their foes, too
deafened by the battle's din to notice what was going on. A hush
fell upon the battleground, broken only by the moans of the
injured, as those who had not heard Bane's words realised that
something was amiss and stopped fighting to look up.
Bane lowered
his arms and spread his hands in a gesture that needed no
explanation. From bitter experience they knew he could defeat them
without breaking a sweat, which made their battle pointless. Only
their worship of the Black Lord and their fear of his demons drove
them into battle, but now an equal fear of the Demon Lord countered
it. With a simple gesture, he offered them the one thing Arkonen
did not. Mercy. Their hesitation was momentary, born more out of
confusion and the dread of being alone, then those who had pledged
themselves to Bane earlier fell to their knees and chanted his
name. In a spreading wave, the entire army bowed down before him,
thr
ew down their weapons and
pressed their brows to the cold, blasted earth.
The demons
continued to battle each other, and those that harried the army's
heels attacked all who knelt. The Demon Lord raised an arm, and
the
dark folk before him
whimpered. He pointed at Arkonen's demons, and a bolt of darkness
arced across the gap. It struck a fire demon in an explosion of
flame and shadow, destroying it. Those around it departed almost as
swiftly as their kin, sinking into the earth, or, in the case of
the fire demons, into the fires from which they had
risen.
Bane lowered his arm and gazed
around, searching for invisible air demons while he let the vast
army grovel a little longer. Turning away, he walked back to the
abbey, and the dark people did not rise until he had vanished into
it. They stood uncertainly, unsure of what to do next. Some helped
the injured, while others wandered to the edge of the wood and sat,
staring at the abbey, clearly stunned by what had just happened and
amazed that they still lived.
Tallis took second watch in
Bane's room that night, relieving the healer who had sat beside him
since he had retired earlier. Since he did little but sleep and
doze, recovering his strength, she wondered why he needed watching.
Perhaps to serve him if he woke, or to ensure that he did not slip
away during the night. Certainly she would not be able to stop him,
only inform Ellese of his departure. Bane had shown no inclination
to leave, however, and his sleep was deep and peaceful.
The Black Lord, it seemed, no
longer attacked him in his dreams now that he was not drugged.
Ellese had rebuked her for her verbal attack on the Demon Lord,
reminding her of their need of his aid and remonstrating with her
never to do it again. In spite of this, she was now only allowed to
watch him at night. Bane shifted and sighed, and Tallis' eyelids
drooped.
A faint, distant crash jerked
her from her doze, and she straightened. Bane's eyes opened a slit,
and she held her breath, wondering if he would awaken, but they
drifted closed again. She looked at the doorway, wondering what had
caused the noise, torn between curiosity and duty. The sound had
come from the kitchens, and, as she listened, another muted clatter
reached her.