Ashiyn stepped through the shadows with Soryn and ended up in the courtyard of the castle near the stable. He set Soryn down on the ground and went in to get Illusion. He pulled Soryn up on the horse then turned it only to come face to face with Rhadamanthus.
“What did you do?” Rhadamanthus growled as he stormed forward, weapon drawn. “You killed my brother, boy? For that little worm? And look at what you’ve caused!” Rhadamanthus waved an arm around to display his castle falling to fiery boulders and crushed guards lying dead about the courtyard.
Ashiyn snarled and drew his weapon even as he urged Illusion to back up. “I’ll kill you as well if you don’t get out of my way.”
“Insolent boy. You need yet another lesson!” Rhadamanthus roared then attacked. Ashiyn deflected the blow easily, but then he realized the blow wasn’t aimed for him. The blade sank deep into Illusion’s chest. Illusion sank to his knees with a heavy grunt, then the horse rolled onto his side as Soryn and Ashiyn moved out of the way. With one last panting breath Illusion fell still as his blood poured out to cover the cobblestone.
“No,” Ashiyn whispered, all else forgotten as he knelt next to the horse and cradled Illusion’s head in his lap.
“Behave or that worm you saved is next,” Rhadamanthus growled. “Get into the castle and find a way to stop what you’ve wrought. Now.”
Ashiyn let the cold wash over him and drown his emotions. Then he snatched up his weapon and stood. “Get back, Soryn.”
Soryn scrambled back, eyes wide at Ashiyn’s low, dangerous tone. He cowered behind the corner of the stable. “Ashiyn, no.”
Ashiyn rolled his shoulders then swung his blade to face Rhadamanthus. “You’ve taught me my final lesson, Master.” With those words he drew upon all the power he’d just taken from Rurik’s tower, and with one hand, he shot it at Rhadamanthus. Rhadamanthus howled in agony and fell to his knees as the magic drained his life-force. Ashiyn hovered in the air from the power of the magic crackling through him, then he redirected it to his fallen steed.
The horse’s body jerked and flailed as the life magic flowed into it. Illusion breathed again and rose unsteadily as massive feathered wings sprouted from his shoulders. He unfurled them then stomped the ground, screaming in fury.
Before Ashiyn, Rhadamanthus had withered away. But he hadn’t died. His flesh had melted from his frame leaving only skin on bone, but he still glowed with horrifying magic. “You insolent boy!” Rhadamanthus roared as he surged to his feet, bringing all his magic to bear on Ashiyn.
Ashiyn was not prepared for the power of the assault. His own magic faltered and he stumbled, grabbing onto Illusion’s mane to avoid falling.
“Fine. Keep your steed. I will take something more precious as payment for your betrayal,” Rhadamanthus said, as he looked at Soryn.
“No,” Ashiyn warned, stepping unsteadily between them.
“I curse you, boy! Until the day you succeed in killing me, you won’t remember this little worm or the fact that you caused this darkness to destroy our world. You’ll forget this day even happened,” Rhadamanthus howled then sent magic lancing through Ashiyn. Ashiyn tumbled to his hands and knees, stunned but not harmed.
“Ashiyn!” Soryn cried as he ran to kneel next to Ashiyn.
Part of Ashiyn still knew this was someone important. Rhadamanthus hadn’t been able to wipe his memory completely, but he didn’t remember who Soryn was or why he was important. All that Ashiyn remembered was that he cared what happened to Soryn.
Rhadamanthus laughed and stormed closer. “Boy, that worm is your enemy! He came here to kill you and destroy your power. He doesn’t want you to be Prince of this world at my side. Send him to the ends of the world.”
“Ashiyn, no. It’s Soryn. Remember!” Soryn gasped and scrambled backward as Ashiyn rose to his feet. “Remember,” Soryn insisted as he grabbed Ashiyn’s arm and sent his magic flowing through his hand.
Ashiyn shuddered at the feel of the light magic and threw Soryn off. Then with a blast of magic he ripped a hole in the shadows and shoved Soryn through it. Then the portal of darkness disappeared.
“Put your mount away and come inside, boy. There’s much to be done,” Rhadamanthus grumbled as he walked back toward the castle.
Ashiyn reached over to pat Illusion’s neck to calm the winged equine, then led him into the barn. Ashiyn jumped as a fiery boulder landed nearby, then growled and used his magic to shield the barn and protect Illusion. Then he followed Rhadamanthus into the castle.
PART TWO
Three thousand years later.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
"Ashiyn…”
Rhadamanthus’s deep voice echoed through the depths of his mind like distant thunder. Far away, weak. Like claws dragged against stone, irritating. Ashiyn bit back a growl. Rhadamanthus knew Ashiyn hated being interrupted during sex. Defiant, Ashiyn pushed thoughts of the dark creature away and focused on the soft skin against his. He doubled his efforts until the woman’s pleased noises drowned out even the memory of the call of his Master. He hated being interrupted.
“Ashiyn!”
Anger laced the voice this time, and with it pain that could not be ignored flooded through his head. He felt as though his mind would explode. The pressure made him jerk back from his companion and clutch at his eyes as if to hold them in place. He hated pain even more. The pressure made his vision blur. He growled and untangled himself from the woman and the silken covers of his bed. He peeled them away from his body then tossed them back in her direction as he rose.
He didn’t bother to dress. The air was unpleasantly warm as it always was in his castle. After thousands of years, one would think he would be used to the heat. Lava flowed underneath the castle and the heat from it rose upward through the obsidian stone. Another tiny detail he hadn’t bothered to clarify in his plans for his perfect world. Using his Master’s castle for his own had seemed practical at the time. As he stormed across the hot stone floor, he almost regretted not pausing long enough to get something to cover his bare feet.
“Ashiyn!”
I’m coming! He didn’t know if his Master could read his thoughts, but he put as much force behind that one as he could. He snarled and knocked over a small table as he passed it. The beautiful sculpture some servant had thought would please him toppled to the floor in his wake and shattered. The destruction made him feel just a little better. He couldn’t take it out on his Master. Yet. One day he would find a way.
It’s only been three millennia, Sihtaar, Ashiyn’s dark sword, quipped in Ashiyn’s mind. Never mind the sword had promised so long ago to help Ashiyn defeat his Master. Unfortunately, Rhadamanthus was now in a state of undeath that was hard to unravel. It made his destruction more difficult. Ashiyn couldn’t just kill him; the blasted lich would just revive, and Ashiyn wasn’t sure how Rhadamanthus was doing it.
The startled noise from the bed made Ashiyn pause at the doorway to look back at the woman. She hid her beautiful face behind one of the sheets, except for her dark eyes that were large with alarm. Her hands with their long, manicured nails clutched at the sheet that shook in her grip. Fear hadn’t been part of his bargain with the dark powers, but he’d come to enjoy provoking it in others. He watched her for a moment longer. His hands twitched and ached with the desire for violence. What was one more to join the thousands before her? And perhaps her blood would appease the demanding monster in the next room.
No. It took too much effort to find a woman who wasn’t too terrified to please him in bed. Ashiyn had power, money, charm, and he was handsome. Three thousand years of bloodshed and a reputation for being a brutal monster were hard to overcome, even so. Hard to find good help when one had a reputation for killing servants in a displeased rage. He frowned at her and turned away.
The door between his sleeping chambers and the sitting room was made from heavy embossed marble, but it was designed to push open at the lightest touch. With a thought, he used his magic to slam it shut behind him, and
he fancied he could hear her make yet another startled noise. Good. He didn’t want her to get too comfortable. He hated when they fell in love with him. They started thinking they could change him.
He didn’t want to change. He just wanted to be free of this annoyance. The darkness had served its purpose. He had all that he wanted, except for his freedom. He crossed the large, lavishly decorated sitting room and somehow managed not to knock over anything more in anger on the way to confront the creature.
The double doors in the middle of the room in front of Ashiyn could be seen only by him. They were not truly a part of his castle’s design, but a portal spell created by the dark thing he served. Rhadamanthus had withered to the point he was more will and magical energy than a physical form, so he existed half-way between mortal existence and whatever death might be.
Ashiyn threw the doors open and strode boldly down the dark tunnel. It wouldn’t be the first time his lack of fear had gotten him in trouble with this creature. Red candles lit the path between the doorway and the large altar in the middle of the room. Dark runes of forgotten ancient magic marred the surface of the beautiful black marble. So did dried blood. In the center of the altar sat a crystal pillar. Within the crystal, blood-red angry clouds swirled, obscuring the dark figure within.
Ashiyn stalked to the altar and slammed his hands palm-down on either side of the crystal pillar. He glared into it at the shadow figure. “What do you want? You know I hate being interrupted.”
“Such bold insolence!” The voice responded. His Master sounded bemused today, but the threat laced the deep voice. “Shall I waste my time reminding you of your place?”
Ashiyn gritted his teeth as memories of a thousand deaths at the hand of the brutal creature replayed though his mind. Sometimes the punishment was worth the defiance. Today it was not. He forced a more respectful tone. “You have need of me, Master?” He didn’t really have to ask. It was always the same. The price of the creature’s power was blood, torment, death. Some innocent soul rent apart to feed Rhadamanthus’s continued existence. Ashiyn wished he could just let his master rot away, but the monster still had the ability to kill him, even from a distance. Death was a minor annoyance, as he always resurrected, but it was painful and a waste of his time.
“Better. We will discuss your insolence another time.” His master’s red eyes became apparent despite the confusing shadows that cloaked him. The need and hunger within them were plain to see. “You will bring me a sacrifice.”
There went his plans for the evening. How was he supposed to succeed as King of this world if this idiot creature kept interrupting him? He had asked for power so he could use it for his purposes, not to be some errand boy for a fallen ancient mage. Many called them demons, but he knew better. Ashiyn had created this one many years before in an attempt to kill Rhadamanthus. Though his Master existed mostly between life and death Rhadamanthus was bound to the crystal and sustained with violence, blood, and souls. Irritation filled Ashiyn and he rolled his shoulders to try to ease the sudden tension. “Show me.”
The dark figure disappeared and took the storm of blood with it. The crystal pillar flashed with light, then green flooded into its depths. It revealed beautiful grassy plains with lazy sheep and cattle grazing under the watchful eye of the peasants. It panned over to a small village of poorly constructed stone hovels with thatched roofs. He hated peasants. They were always lost in their insignificant provincial lives. Most often they were the ones that fought back when he came to take them, thinking their miserable little lives were worth more than his power. If only they understood how the world would fall to even greater darkness without him there to control it. He tapped his fingers on the stone as he waited for it to focus on his target. He didn’t care about the workings of the village; he just wanted to see who his Master had marked for death this time.
The vision shot into one of the run-down houses and stopped. There, sitting cross-legged on the floor, were two children. Young twins, pre-adolescent perhaps, pale of skin and eye. They stared directly at him, as though they could see him. Irritation flooded through him again. That meant they had the gift of sight. They would know he was coming. At least they were young enough that maybe they were too foolish to hide.
The vision faded and the figure returned, but now it was making that disgusting inhuman noise of hunger and anticipation. “I would feast upon their innocent blood. Do not fail me.”
Ashiyn rolled his eyes, then turned and stormed back out of the room without another word or acknowledgement. He hadn’t failed yet.
He knew which town he had seen. Malk. It was not so far from here. He had even taken women from there from time to time or gone to visit them. He might even have thought the gifted twins his progeny, but they didn’t have his golden eyes. All his progeny had his eyes, although he wasn’t often careless enough to create them. They were immortals. Most lived their own lives and he barely kept track of them. Some though, like his firstborn son, continued to hold a grudge and hunt him. Though hunting an immortal was pointless. They could kill Ashiyn, but he would only come back more irritated.
As soon as he walked back into his sitting room, the portal vanished with a loud sucking sound. He tried to shake off his irritation. At least the violence would ease the pain in his head. It always did.
He took the time to visit the armory attached to his sitting room. He dressed, then donned his heavy black plate armor. Not that he would need it to take care of a few gifted children. He sharpened his broadsword before he put it in place on his back.
He stalked back through the bedroom. That stupid woman was still sitting there shaking under the covers. Again, the urge to kill her rushed through him and he clenched his hands. No. Not today. He was going to ease the pain with the children, the woman could please him later. “Get out, foolish woman. I’m leaving.”
She jumped to obey, scrambling for her clothing. She didn’t even bother to dress before she fled the room.
He watched her flee. She wasn’t unpleasant to look at. The brief appreciation of her bare body was all he allowed himself though. With a scowl he turned and went the opposite direction.
He stalked down the long halls of his labyrinthine castle. While his bedroom had a few spare windows, the rest of the castle was enclosed with dark stone with only torchlight to break the darkness. Only he knew how to navigate it. The massive castle was full of traps and deadly creatures to both discourage visitors and to keep those he wanted from escaping. Like that woman. She wouldn’t leave unless he allowed it. Her death to feed his power and his master’s hunger seemed a much more likely outcome.
He stormed out into the courtyard of the castle. The air outside was no less stifling, even though a hot breeze stirred it. Dark clouds rumbled above, and angry lightning provided flashes of light as he crossed toward the large stable. He didn’t need the light; he saw just fine in the darkness.
As he threw open the double doors to the stable there was a friendly neigh of a horse from deep within the shadows. The rustle of feathers and the stomping of hooves greeted him as he stepped inside. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he could see the massive winged equine trotting over to him.
He allowed himself one brief stroke of the beautiful animal’s forehead. Illusion had been a normal horse once. His childhood mount. Ashiyn scowled at the memory of the horse’s death. Another one of his Master’s lessons in pain and obedience. Ashiyn had used his dark magic to drain Rhadamanthus of his life-force and revive Illusion as a winged equine.
Illusion bumped Ashiyn’s chest with his nose, the strength of the beast almost knocking him back a step. Ashiyn smiled. Even though the spell had rendered Rhadamanthus much harder to kill, it was still worth it. Illusion was Ashiyn’s only friend.
“Come, Illusion. It is time to fly.” Ashiyn mounted the large steed.
He did not even have to command Illusion. When he was on the steed’s back, they were like one. Illusion bolted from the stable and jumped into the air, massiv
e wings unfurling to catch the breeze and send them soaring into the dark sky.
They circled his castle on the hill for a moment and Ashiyn watched the angry waves crash against the rock cliff below and sizzle on the lava that bled from the cliffs. Then his gaze darted to the plains in the distance. Malk awaited them, and so did his master’s sacrifice.
As they flew from the castle, warning bells sounded across the land. There was a tower set up by his enemies on the cliffs across from his castle. They rang the bell every time Ashiyn left. To warn the world that death was coming upon swift wings.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Illusion landed as gracefully as a bird on the edge of the small village, touching hooves to ground with just a soft thud. Ashiyn eyed the village as he swung down from the winged equine. “Stay,” he muttered to his mount, as he loosed his broadsword from his back and drew it from its scabbard.
Sihtaar woke at his touch, the sword’s corrupt magic licking at its surface like heat lightning. Kill. Kill them all. I thirst.
The Darkest Sword Page 11