Demon Lord (12 page)

"Put her in it, while we raze
this witch's nest to the ground."

Bane strode away as the captain
came forward to pull Mirra to her feet. He led her to the ablution
block at the back of the abbey, where his soldiers pried open the
cesspit. They gagged and drew back at the fetor that arose, then
threw her in and closed the lid. Mirra held her breath as the
stinking muck engulfed her, finding the slippery floor and
standing. She wiped the filth from her face, but at the first
inhalation of the terrible stench, her stomach rebelled, and she
struggled not to vomit. When her sense of smell had adjusted
sufficiently for her to stop retching, she waded to a wall and
leant against it. Pitch darkness surrounded her, cold and clammy.
Only the squeaking of rats and the faraway sounds of destruction
broke the silence.

It seemed like two days that she
spent in the cesspit, but it might have been only a day and a
night. Several times she dozed off, and woke as the slime closed
over her face. The muck was hip deep, forcing her to stand. Unknown
crawling things wriggled over her and invaded her clothes under the
muck, making her squirm and shiver. Hot tears ran down her face as
she listened to the abbey's destruction.

Rats ran along ridges in the
walls, or clung to the rough bricks. She healed two that were sick,
and the others kept her company. They offered to gnaw a hole in the
wooden cover so she would have fresh air, but she refused. She
hoped she would not be there long enough to need it. The muck dried
to a hard crust, and the darkness closed in on her like a solid
blanket, making it hard to breathe at times. She prayed to the Lady
for strength, and clung to the bastion of her unshakeable faith to
see her through the ordeal.

At last, the cover was removed,
and Mord supervised as Benton and two gnomes hauled her out. Armed
with soap, they took her straight to the fountain and scrubbed her
until her skin glowed pink, throwing away the old robe and coat.
While they were busy, Mirra gazed around at the ruins. Only walls
remained of the once gracious buildings, and the charred remnants
of roof timbers lay in the rubble. Stained-glass windows lay
shattered, and statues and paintings were smashed and burnt. The
flower garden was trampled to mud and ashes, the fruit trees cut
down.

The men who washed her grew
still, and she looked up at Bane, who regarded her from a few feet
away.

"Did you enjoy your wallow in
your sisters' dung?"

"No."

"Good. If they know what I am
doing, then they will now know what happens to you if they
run."

Mirra gazed at him sadly. "It
will not stop them."

"Then you know what happens to
you if you tell them."

"I did not tell them."

He shrugged. "I do not really
care. You see, I agreed to kill you if I found another witch to
torment. So now you continue to live, and suffer, until I find
one."

Benton helped her out of the
water and dressed her in a healer's robe. Bane strode away, and
Benton led her to his campfire, where he gave her food and water.
While she ate, he talked.

"He's found another ward. Had to
scry for it, Mord said, but we move out tomorrow. It's on some
island, so we have to get a ship. Only a few of us will be going,
but I'll try to come, to take care of you. The rest of the army
will be left behind, to await his return. It's a fair step, some
three days march to the coast."

Mirra smiled at him. "I will be
all right."

Benton's craggy face filled with
regret. "He shouldn't have done that to you. It must have been
awful."

"Wet and smelly, that is
all."

"You're amazing, healer."

She sighed. "Just tired."

Benton nodded, and Mirra
stretched out by the fire and fell into a dreamless sleep.

Benton woke her as dusk sent
long shadows to swallow the land. Mord waited to take her to Bane's
tent. The Demon Lord sat on his bed, and turned glacial eyes upon
her as she settled on the floor. Mirra ignored his freezing stare
and fell asleep again.

Chapter Five

Earth Demon

In the pale, watery light of
another gloomy dawn, the army broke camp. Mirra gazed at the
abbey's ruins as she walked past with Benton, glad that she now
wore a healer's robe again. Bane rode far ahead on the dragon, a
small figure in the distance, but daunting even so. While she
walked, men came to her for healing, displaying the burns and
scrapes they had received while demolishing the abbey. Every time
she healed someone her power grew a little less, and there was no
sun to renew it, but Mirra could not refuse them.

A hot, humid day developed, dull
but sweaty. By the afternoon, Mirra longed to bathe in a cool
stream or pool. She walked on the outskirts of the armed horde in
the hopes of catching a breeze that might come by. Benton
accompanied her, for the army had no formation or ranks. It
straggled along in clusters of gossiping men, trolls, rock howlers
and goblins, each speaking their own tongue.

Bane's was the only solitary
figure, far ahead atop the dragon. Swathes of close-cropped lawn
bordered the road, which cut through a picturesque forest of tall
ghost wood trees whose striped grey bark and pale leaves had earned
them their name. Blue and white fen flowers grew amongst the golden
leaves that carpeted the forest floor, as well as patches of moss
and ferns. Since it was easier to walk on the road and verge than
amongst the trees, the army had become drawn out into a column that
spanned about five leagues.

Mirra spotted a blackened patch
in the grass ahead, and wondered what had caused it. Perhaps
someone had camped there, but it was too big for a campfire site,
and besides, it was out in the open. Benton saw it and called out
to another soldier, pointing. Mirra studied it, perplexed, for it
seemed to be growing. She stopped with a horrified gasp.

A brown form rose from the
blackened area, twisting and expanding. It developed a head, and
six long arms. Benton shouted to his companions, then he was beside
her, dragging her away. Mirra needed no urging. She ran as fast as
she could, her breath catching in terror. The earth demon shook
free of the soil and acquired legs, coming after them. Benton
yelled and tugged at her arm, but she could not run any faster. Men
scattered before the demon and fled into the forest with shouts of
fear and horror. It ignored them, intent on its prey.

Mirra risked a glance back, and
found the demon gaining. Her throat closed in panic, which robbed
her of much-needed air and weakened her already rubbery legs.
Benton raced wild-eyed beside her, pulling her along, and she was
surprised he had not abandoned her. The demon closed the gap; its
long legs swallowed the ground in great strides, and the thuds of
its footfalls hammered her heart with fresh terror. Something
struck her in the back, and she sprawled, her arm torn from
Benton's grip. She cried out and rolled over to stare up at the
monstrosity that loomed over her.

Like the fire demon, it radiated
the same evil power Bane used. The waves of foul magic made her gut
clench, as did its gruesome visage of mud. Obsidian eyes glittered,
and mud-muscles rippled on its arms and chest. One of its six arms
descended with a sickening thud, and Mirra's leg snapped like a
rotten twig. She tried to scramble to her feet as the bone knitted,
but another fist fell, smashing her pelvis. She was paralysed as
the healing took place, and yet another blow struck her belly. Her
skin shimmered as her power rushed to repair pulped organs,
weakening her.

A movement caught her eye, and
she cried out in horror as Benton rammed his sword into the demon's
side. A negligent flick of the fiend's fist sent him crashing onto
the grass, where he lay still.

As the demon swung back to her,
Mirra raised her arms in a futile bid to defend herself. Terror
coursed through her in a flood of icy realisation that she was
moments from death. Her shocked mind scrambled for a means of
survival, and a name sprang to her lips in a despairing cry.

"Bane!"

Mirra screamed as the demon's
fist descended again, her cry cut off in a grunt as the air was
pulverised from her. Her rib cage snapped, and she thought her
heart would be crushed. Her breath stopped as her power rushed to
heal the damage, and her vision grew dim. She drew a shallow breath
as her lungs healed, and the demon raised its fists.

A dark figure appeared beside
the fiend. The Demon Lord raised an arm, and a bolt of black fire
spat from his fingers to strike the demon. It staggered sideways,
and Bane stepped in front of it.

"Do not tell me, Yalnebar, let
me guess," he sneered with profound scorn. "My father sent you to
kill the healer."

The earth demon shook its head
as if to clear it, bits of mud crumbling from its chest. It placed
a hand on the wound and straightened.

"That is right, Bane." It spoke
in a deep, gritty voice.

"We had an agreement. Since when
does my father break his word? I told him I would kill her when I
found another, and still he sends you, cloaked against my
sight."

Yalnebar shook its head. "He
said she had to die; that she is dangerous."

Bane snorted, his dark eyes
glaring. "A mere human girl? Next he will be jumping at
shadows."

"Do not insult the Black Lord,"
the demon rumbled.

"Tell him to stop sending
flunkies. He knows none of you are a match for me. Mealle has
already tried, and Yangarra learnt the hard way. If he wants the
girl killed, then he must give me a better reason than that he
thinks she is dangerous. I do not find her dangerous. I find her
amusing, so why should I kill her now? I intend to send her below,
as a gift for him."

"You set yourself against the
Black Lord, Bane, you will pay."

The Demon Lord's lip curled. "I
do his dirty work. I am breaking the wards to set him free. I am
not setting myself against my father. I have agreed to kill her.
But when I choose!" Yalnebar opened its cavernous mouth to answer,
and Bane made a vicious gesture. "Begone!"

The demon collapsed into a pile
of earth, and Bane turned to Mirra as the blackness drained from
his eyes, leaving them bloodshot again. His pallor had increased,
and lines of anger bracketed his mouth and furrowed his brow.

"I take it you will live?"

Mirra nodded, her breath
catching.

Bane's eyes flicked away. "I
doubt the same can be said for your gallant knight."

Mirra turned with a gasp,
remembering Benton's heroic assault. She struggled to her feet,
weakened by the shock of her injuries and the sudden draining of
her power to heal them. As she stumbled over to the soldier's
crumpled form, she prayed that he still lived. Bane watched her
with a cynical smile.

"I am amazed that he thought he
could fight a demon. He was either very brave, or very stupid. I
opt for stupid; no one is that brave."

Mirra knelt and laid her hands
on Benton. Her power flowed weakly, for the demon's attack had all
but drained her of that which the golden pearl had bestowed. Benton
had several broken ribs and a shattered arm, as well as deep
bruising that would have killed him without her help. It took
several minutes before he groaned and opened his eyes. Seeing Bane
standing over him, he scrambled away and lurched to his feet,
retreating, rather unsteadily, to a safe distance.

Bane snorted. "Is it not amazing
how they actually think they are safe at a distance?" He shook his
head. "What fools."

Mirra stood, swaying. "Thank you
for saving me again."

He glared at her. "Had you not
called, I would have been spared the trouble. I begin to wonder if
you are worth it, girl. My father will be angry. Seeing you dragged
from the cesspit was amusing, but perhaps I should find other
diversions. You should be glad if I let you die. I only keep you
alive to watch you suffer."

She bowed her head. "I do not
want to die."

"All the more reason to kill
you. Your nuisance value is outweighing your amusing abilities." He
paused. "And you have given me a headache." She touched his arm,
flinching at the evil within him, and he jerked away. "Do not touch
me! You take far too many liberties."

"I can help you. I can stop the
pain."

"I do not need your damned
help!" He strode away, shouting for Mord.

That evening, Mord brought Mirra
to Bane's tent as usual, and she settled on the floor. Bane studied
a map, and barely acknowledged her presence. She gazed at him,
fascinated by the fierce perfection of his profile and the way his
eyes shone like jewels in the lamplight. He looked at her, his
brows gathering.

"What are you staring at?"

She glanced away. "I am
sorry."

"I think the next demon can have
you. You are starting to annoy me."

"No! Please, Bane?"

He put aside the map with a
sigh. "Why did you call out to me today?"

"Because I knew you could help
me."

"What made you think I
would?"

She smiled. "You did
before."

"You must be the most stupid
female in the world. You think you can predict me? Mostly I was
annoyed at that damned Yalnebar for sneaking out of the Underworld,
so well cloaked I did not sense him. Mealle I perceived, but the
earth demon was well concealed. My father had a hand in it."

"Will your father be angry?"

Bane gave a bark of laughter.
"He will be livid. But you see, there is little he can do about it,
and I am actually interested to see how far he will go with this.
He needs me to break the wards. If I do not, he will stay down
there forever." His eyes glinted. "And he has another problem, too.
In order for me to break the wards, he had to make me as powerful
as he is. But I do not wish to disobey him; I must find out what
the problem is, tonight."