Belly of the Beast

by Warren Thomas

  “Is it something I said?” Raven said. Then she laughed. “I overheard Tane and Joelle discussing my fate, if you will.” She gave Quinn a scathing look. “Not tell me, indeed! I’m no child, needing protection of the wicked world. Do that again, Quinn, and I’ll cut off your manhood, or elfhood, or whatever you call it.”

  Quinn grimaced. “How can anyone as sweet looking as you have such a foul mouth?”

  “I’ve been a pirate since escaping slavery,” she said, grinning roguishly. “My pirate friends have been a bad influence on me.”

  “A pirate?” Tane said, intrigued.

  “Don’t ask,” Joelle said. “She’ll just bore us with another of her tall tales.”

  “Bore! Are you saying I’m boring?” Raven cried, coming to her feet. Tane and Quinn shared a grin, seeing she wasn’t the least bit offended. “And what do you mean with that ‘tall tales’ rot? Everything I’ve said is the God’s-truth!” Suddenly becoming haughty, she said, “You’re just jealous because I’ve had a more interesting life than you.”

  “Being trained as a Silk Slave by a paddle-wielding dominatrix isn’t my idea of an interesting life,” Joelle countered just as haughtily.

  “‘Paddle-wielding dominatrix?’” Raven repeated, a bemused look claiming her mobile face. “Pray tell, why is that what pops into your seedy little mind first? Is it perhaps a fantasy of yours?”

  The witch blanched, then turned beat red. Before anyone could react, she spoke a Word of Power and pointed a finger at Raven. Raven gasped as an eerie blue-green mist swirled around her. She fell to the floor, writhing in agony as the mist cocooned her.

  Seeing that, Tane’s eyes turned to Raven’s sword, which was resting atop her blanket three paces away. If she had been wearing the sword, then Tasheba would’ve protected her. Or so Raven claimed.

  “Stop it!” Corporal Pendar barked.

  Joelle started at the command, and hastily made a chopping motion that swept away the arcane mist. Raven let out a great sobbing gasp. Quinn and Tane ran to her side as she clawed at the floor, sobbing and cursing venomously.

  She quickly recovered and tried to throw herself at Joelle, but Quinn wrapped his arms and legs around her to hold her back. Even with his super-human elven strength, it was all Quinn could do to contain her fury. Tane had never seen anyone as livid as Raven.

  “At ease, Raven!” Corporal Pendar shouted. “You started it. And for once, someone else ended it. You can’t win them all.”

  “But she used magic on me! The same spell they used to punish me in the Slave House,” Raven said, starting to look grief-stricken. “Don’t you understand? I can’t take that. I can’t....”

  “All right, we understand,” Quinn said soothingly into her ear. “It’s all right now, Raven. I won’t let anyone do that to you again.”

  “I’m going to kill her,” she growled, casting a glance at her nearby sword.

  Tane prepared to dart over to the sword. He couldn’t let her have it until she was calmed down. He couldn’t allow his friends to try and kill each other.

  As she relaxed, Tane turned angry eyes on Joelle, as did Corporal Pendar. She looked pale.

  “I didn’t know,” she said.

  “You used magic on her,” Tane said. “How could you?”

  “I – It’s instinct,” Joelle said.

  “It’s not Joelle’s fault,” Armin said. To Corporal Pendar, “You yourself said Raven started it. She always does.”

  “Joelle’s the one that challenged her with the dominatrix rot,” Quinn said.

  “Raven was just having fun,” Tane said.

  “She doesn’t mean anything mean-spirited by it. It’s just a rough banter soldiers and mercenaries like to indulge in,” Corporal Pendar said. “Bandu Invincible, what I have to deal with!” He sighed wearily, and cut a sharp look at Armin and Joelle. Shaking his head, “I didn’t think only Quinn, Raven, and myself understand that. I thought you and Armin were mercenaries, Joelle.”

  Tane nodded agreement. Corporal Pendar’s words rang true. At times he found Raven’s banter and antics amusing, but frequently thought them risqué and too personal. She certainly had been with Joelle that morning. But then, so had Joelle. Who was wrong? Was anyone in the right?

  “It’s safe to let me go,” Raven said. When Quinn hesitated, she added, “I promise not to kill anyone. Yet. I’ll be a good girl. Promise.”

  “You don’t sound very sincere, Raven,” Corporal Pendar said. “But then, if you lie your Goddess will damn your soul for all eternity.” He grinned suddenly. “Life just isn’t fair for a priestess, is it?”

  “Life would be boring if it was fair, safe, or easy,” she said, grinning weakly. Quinn started to reluctantly loosen his hold on her, everyone watching her intently for any hostile move. Tane was painfully aware of just how deceptively fast she could move. “Besides, I’m not a priestess. I’m just a bloody acolyte of the lowest order. Otherwise, I’d also wield power and be more than a match for some baseborn witch’s witchcraft. So, I’m quite capable of lying if it serves me.”

  That last line made them all frown. Joelle looked a bit nervous as the Tyrian warrior started pushing Quinn’s arms away. Armin stepped between his wife and Raven, one hand on his hilt.

  Disentangling herself from Quinn’s arms and legs, she rose up on wobbly legs. In a flash Quinn was up and steadying her. Raven turned mischievous emerald eyes on the half-elf. Tane heard the corporal chuckle softly and started to grin himself at Quinn’s mistake.

  “Oh, Quinn. You do care,” Raven said, melodramatically making her voice all whispery and romantic. She kissed him on the cheek, sighing, “My knight with pointy ears.”

  “Stop that!” he said, jerking his hands back. He stepped back, looking uncomfortable. “I was only worried about a fellow soldier. Nothing personal.”

  “With those simple words, you break my heart again,” she said, turning away and winking at Tane.

  Quinn blanched.

  “Does she never stop?” Armin asked.

  “Never,” Raven said.

  She picked up Tasheba and slanted a look at Joelle. Tane started to relax, now that things seemed to be getting back to normal. Then he noted the steely-eyed look that passed between Raven and Joelle.

  Chapter 25

  In Treversax, Dakar looked through the eyes of two hundred priests scattered about the newly conquered region. Each was standing inside a different temple, over newly consecrated altars. Free-minded sacrifices lay across the altars, bodies bound tight and eyes full of horror.

  With a thought, He commanded the priests to begin their unholy rites. He watched through their eyes with grim satisfaction. The sacrifices were all priests and priestesses of various Arisen Gods, and many were High Priests. With their deaths, and the capture and consumption of their released souls, Dakar would greatly enhance His own Power at the expense of the Arisen.

  Almost simultaneously, two hundred knives sliced open bared breasts. Two hundred lives were snuffed out, sending a heady rush of True Power into Dakar. He groaned with pleasure.

  “It is going faster than anticipated,” He mused. “I am already as powerful as any Arisen. But once I conquer the Jarlands, and claim all the Arisen temples in the land as my own, I will be more powerful than any of the Arisen ever dreamed of becoming. And since everyone within the conquered territories will be worshipping Me, alone, I will soon be able to confront Them even within Their own Realms.”

  He glanced once more through the eyes of His priesthood, at the cooling corpses of two hundred priests and priestesses. For three thousand years He had waited for this.

  “Victory is sweet.”

  Chapter 26

  The company was formed up in the predawn light. Distant thunder rumbled, reminding everyone of the storm of battle they were about to enter. Tane expected to be marched out straight away, but the captain spoke to them instead.

  “Scouts report the enemy is just an hour’s march south of here,” Captain Kenelm be
gan, capturing everyone’s undivided attention. “Many of you have heard some rumors concerning what we’re about to meet. None of them good, I’m sure. Well, I’m afraid most are true.

  “The men, women and children we’re about to face have been ensorcelled,” he continued. “Yes, you heard right. Children will throw themselves against us. And they are just as mindlessly dangerous as their parents, so don’t drop your guard at the sight of them. Otherwise, it will be your last mistake.

  “Though still alive, our adversaries are zombies for all practical purposes. Fear them. From what our scouts and spies tell us, they are the survivors of previous battles, sacked villages and anyone else the zombie host overran. It appears that almost everyone they capture is magically enslaved and added to their growing army, soldiers and civilians alike.

  “At first we thought it was the work of some powerful wizard, but now we know the truth. One of the Old Ones has been unleashed on the world. The Court Mages and the city’s High Priests believe it is Dakar.”

  Tane didn’t need convincing, for he knew it was Dakar, called the Black God by the ancient elves. There was no doubt in his mind about it. Dakar’s image – dark and brooding face with large ram horns coming out of the forehead and twisting around to end below large pointed ears, with a towering and powerful body covered by thick pitch black fur, tufts of gray at the points of ears and around exposed genitals, goatlike from the waist down – leapt before Tane’s mind’s-eye. He was the God, the oppressive presence, in all of Tane’s nightmares.

  “Tane?” Quinn whispered, the question in his eyes.

  The other members of the squad were looking his way, expectantly and fearfully. He could only nod agreement with the captain and watch grim looks claim them all.

  Captain Kenelm continued, “Our mission today is to act as reserves. We will be thrown at any weak point in the battle lines. If we can’t defeat or turn them away from Kestsax, then we conduct an orderly withdrawal back to the city.”

  “How many?” someone called.

  The captain smiled grimly. “We don’t know. Thousands. Maybe hundreds of thousands. Their host stretches from horizon to horizon, hundreds of miles wide. We are hoping they are stretched thin.”

  “Oh my Gods!” Tane cried. “My home village. My family!”

  “Where?” Captain Kenelm asked, his concern evident.

  “Bracklin. Two days down river.”

  The captain shook his head sadly. “That area was overrun yesterday. I’m sorry, son.”

  Raven slipped an arm around Tane as his knees faltered. He held on to her, thinking about his parents, brothers, sister, and other family and friends. All gone. He couldn’t help but think that, maybe, if he’d been there...

  “It’s all right, Tane,” Raven whispered. “We’re here for you.”

  “We’ll get through this together,” Quinn said.

  Eyes burning, he straightened and nodded. Rage was beginning to burn deep in his belly, slowly consuming his despair. Someone would pay, and dearly. And that someone was called Dakar.

  Chapter 27

  The predawn forest was frightening to a desert born man like Nizar. Every sound, every rustling of underbrush caught his attention. What sort of creatures lived in such fetid rot? What sort of monsters thrived in such soul-numbing cold and darkness? Demons? Certainly. But also an endless array of poisonous snakes, biting insects, and large predators. Mogens and a few of his fellow priests had delighted in telling Nizar about them, feeding his fear even as his intellect said most of the aforementioned threats were being chased before Dakar’s great Host. That knowledge did little to comfort Nizar, not after hearing stories of another priest that was attacked and mauled to death by an enraged bear. Dakar seemed reluctant to provide protection against such mundane dangers. For the thousandth time, Nizar wished he had never left his nice clean desert.

  The forest canopy blocked what little light was available through the thick black clouds. The zombies had no personal initiative, so there weren’t any fires burning to brighten the scene. They would flock to warmth and light if found, but could not muster the motivation needed to create a mere creature comfort.

  Nizar scowled at the thought. No fires meant no hot food. He would go into battle with an empty stomach, cold and miserable. But it was his own fault. This wasn’t his first zombie command. He knew their shortcomings as well as any priest.

  “You!” Nizar called, pointing at a middle-aged man to his left. Of all the men and women, young and old, within sight, the man was the cleanest. One and all were disgusting with dried blood and filth. “You are my personal assistant. From now on, you will personally build a fire and start cooking food for me the moment we stop for the day. Understand?”

  “Yes, Your Grace,” he said.

  Nizar started to begin the task of deploying his people for the coming march and battle, then turned back on his new assistant. “And another thing, I don’t want you involved in the fighting. Keep yourself safe, so you can serve me better.”

  “Yes, Your Grace,” the zombie said, no sign of relief or regret showing.

  Now that his future creature comforts were more or less taken care of, Nizar turned his full attention to his command and his mission for Dakar. High Priest Mogens had given him command of some eight hundred men, women and children. All were veteran fighters, and even for zombies that meant something. Many were armed with edged weapons, and looked like soldiers or mercenaries. With them, Nizar would be able to fight his way to Tane Kyleson and capture him.

  If only I had some free-minded mercenaries like those guarding High Priest Mogens, he thought.

  With battle-experienced soldiers he would almost be guaranteed success. But with unmotivated zombies, anything was possible.

  With a muttered prayer, Nizar formed a gigantic three-dimensional image of Tane that towered over everyone.

  “This is Tane Kyleson,” Nizar said, his voice divinely enhanced to carry to everyone, though it wasn’t the least bit loud. “Our Divine Master, Dakar, desires us to capture him. It is very important. More important than anything else. Today we will be fighting against Tane Kyleson’s unit. Be alert. Seek him out, and try to take him alive. He doesn’t have to be in one piece, just alive.”

  Chapter 28

  The march to the carefully chosen battle site was short, taking less than fifteen minutes. Tane thought their generals had chosen well. They had the high ground above pasture broken by waist-high stone fences and thick hedgerows. The foremost elements of the army stood at the top of a steep incline, forcing the invaders to charge uphill and exhaust themselves before even joining battle. And if Taliope was against them that day, then thick forest waited behind them to fall back into.

  Once in their position just one hundred paces behind the front elements, and centered on the left wing of the battle lines, Fox Company formed up in company front. Somehow Tane’s platoon was posted in the position of “honor,” in the center of the company, with other platoons to either side. Sergeant Gareth’s 3rd Section made up the third rank, making Tane unhappy. He wanted to be in the front rank, and on the battle line.

  “All right, boys and girls,” First Sergeant Dangan said. “Sit and rest while we wait on the zombies to come to our little party. Now is the time to eat or drink, or take a last squat in the bushes.”

  Tane sat, silently picking at the grass. His thoughts were consumed by his family and friends. Were they alive? Were they zombies? Would they be fighting him, here today? Could he fight them?

  No, he thought. I couldn’t kill them, not even if they were zombies. Kamain, what am I going to do?

  “Kiss for your thoughts,” Raven offered.

  “Just thinking about my family back home,” he said. “I should’ve been there. I had no right to leave when I did.”

  “And how would you being there have changed what happened to them?” Armin said.

  Tane shrugged.

  Joelle said, “That’s right. Nothing would’ve changed. Except now y
ou would also be dead or a zombie. Maybe Kamain did send you away. Maybe you are their salvation, their only hope.”

  Tane’s head came up. “How’s that? I’m just a simple soldier in an auxiliary company.”

  “Real heroes aren’t people like Raven and Everard, as much as they’d like to belief it,” Joelle said. Raven gave her a sour look. “Look at our legends, our myths. Every single hero was a common man or woman, thrown into impossible situations by the Gods or fate. It was their will to succeed and right some wrong that spurred them on, that gave them the strength to prevail against impossible odds.”

  “And many of them had prophetic dreams, or nightmares, as well,” Armin added.

  “They’re right,” Raven said. She glanced sternly up at the Heavens, “Why haven’t I had any prophetic dreams! Are You listening, Ashtar?”

  Tane chuckled.

  Raven smiled and winked, saying, “Just like those crazy Gods, to make you a hero and leave some really dashing rascal like me out in the cold. Can I share some of your glory?”

  “You can have all you want,” he said.

  “Careful, Tane,” Quinn warned. “You know those Ashtarites. Terrible thieves. She’ll steal all your glory and leave you with nothing but memories.”

  Raven winked at Tane. “But they’d be such great memories. You can tell your children and grandchildren all about me, back before I was the greatest hero of all time.”

  “Modest little vixen,” Quinn said under his breath.

  Raven’s response died in her throat. Thousands of ghoulish-looking men and women came shuffling out of the distant woodline. Bugles blared and drums rolled within the Kestsaxian ranks, bringing the army to its feet. Sergeants and corporals quickly got their ranks in dressed lines, weapons presented.

  Chapter 29

  Nizar stepped out of the dark, dank forest and into the scant light of a cloud darkened pasture. Though the light level only increased a bit, Nizar let out a heartfelt sigh of relief. Inside the thick press of the forest, he felt as if his world was closing in on him. As if all reality was collapsing upon him, burying him forever.