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Page 24
When he reached his twenty-first year, Brother Pestifere once again brought Zarek before Daeva, Akka, and Sij, this time so that the young man might confirm his commitment. Zarek’s eyes remained aflame long after the spirits departed, leaving him endowed with abilities far beyond the mortal. Since then, the underlords visited him from time to time in the room of mirrors where their power was greatest. Each time, Daeva greeted him in the same manner in which he did now.
“Whom do you sssserve?” the underlord’s voice, hissing, snakelike, echoed from one mirror to another.
“I serve you, Daeva, chief lord of Sinespe, and also, Akka, and Sij,” the emperor responded.
“Where do you sssserve?”
“In the land of the living.”
“Why do you sssserve?” thundered Daeva.
“To justify myself for your inhabitation. I serve to bring freedom to all—the true freedom found in total commitment and service to you.”
“How do you sssserve?”
“I serve with a vision of death, of the true freedom it will offer me for all eternity with you, in the underworld.”
The heat of the spirits’ flames intensified. The room filled with smoke, its smell shrill, acidic.
“Well done,” Daeva said. “You may risssse.”
The ruler stood. His skin smoldered. His eyes sparkled like fire. He motioned Pestifere toward a chair, then sat next to him.
“Report,” Daeva ordered.
“We did as you directed,” the emperor said. “We found the place where the young women lived. I sent out a team to bring them here.”
“Yet you failed.”
“Yes, lord. My men returned a short time ago. They reported that the young women left the compound before my men arrived.”
“Yeeeessss,” Daeva drawled and hissed. “So, oncccce again, we must asssscertain their whereaboutssss. The magic ussssed at the compound shielded our abilititessss to find them for many yearssss, but then, once we did, your men failed to reach them. Sssstill, since the young women left their camp, they are no longer under what remained of its protectionssss. We shall find them again, then take action.” He paused, then said, “I have jusssst the plan—though it will be difficult for ussss to take human form, as will be necessssary, to carry it out. It will take all three of ussss to do so. But we shall find them, and then, we shall lead them into . . . The Tearlessss.”
“And I’m just to wait? Longer? I should have possessed Oosa all those years ago. But Lilith was too weak and self absorbed.” Zarek hung his head.
The priest put his hand on the emperor’s knee in a paternal, empathetic manner. “She was willing, and we had to try.”
“Pestifere is right,” Daeva said.
“Well, there is the sword now, anyway,” Zarek muttered.
“The sword?” the underlord asked.
“The great sword. My. . . son. . . delivered it to me.”
“Your son?”
“And Lilith’s. My men captured him at the compound.”
“Ahhhhh . . . delightful . . .” The underlord laughed, his voice throaty, husky.
Zarek’s eyes narrowed. “Delightful? Why?”
“Ha ha ha,” Daeva laughed again. “Oh, my beloved, an Oathtaker’ssss blade would cut off the twinssss’ line. They and their ssssiblings would be powerlessss. Rule would then revert to Rowena’s ssssiblingssss—to Lilith and her ssssisters.”
“But my son tells me that Lilith was killed with an Oathtaker’s blade. Her line—he—is cut off from any future rule. So if the twins’ line is cut off, or if we otherwise dispose of all of Rowena’s other progeny, that means that the rightful line of leadership would once again revert to . . . Rowena’s other siblings.”
“Meaning the only survivors of them—Sally and Janine,” the priest said, smiling, “and they are under our control.”
“That’s right,” the spirit purred. “Now, lissssten carefully. As things sssstand, the power remains with Rowena’s twinssss. If they die by an Oathtaker’s blade before they find Ehyeh’ssss favor, their line ceassssessss. That would mean that none of their ssssiblings would ever rule. Leadership would revert to Ssssally and Janine. If they are assassssinated on a ssssanctuary altar before they find Ehyeh’s favor, not only doesss their line cease—but Ehyeh’s reign would alsssso end. If they die by an Oathtaker’ssss blade on an altar after finding Ehyeh’ssss favor, their line is sssstill cut off, but Ehyeh’ssss reign would continue. In that casssse, once again, the power would revert back to Rowena’s ssssiblings—to Sally and Janine.”
“So?” Zarek asked.
“Don’t you ssssee? Our goal is to end Ehyeh’ssss reign.”
“How do we see to that?”
“Well, now we have another option. You have a new weapon—one we hadn’t counted on before. Should you take Rowena’ssss twinssss out with the great ssssword, whether or not they gain Ehyeh’s favor, the Sssselect shall ccccease for all time—and Ehyeh would be rendered powerless.” Daeva laughed maniacally. “You’ve heard it ssssaid that it is besssst to use your enemy’ssss weapon against him? The great ssssword is Ehyeh’ssss greatesssst weapon. You shall usssse it against his causssse . . . if you can.”
“And our other option for ending Ehyeh’s reign?”
The underlord grinned, looking like a long dead corpse. “Yessss, we have another option. It is to turn Ehyeh’ssss chossssen our way. It is the ssssame plan we had for Lilith. We three lordssss may not raise a hand against Rowena’s twins ourselvessss—not without their directly inviting ussss to do so. You know that. But once we get them to The Tearlessss, how long do you think they will ssssurvive before they assssk—nay, beg ussss—for help? If they turn to ussss, our problem is ssssolved. Ehyeh’ssss grand plan for them to resssstore Oosa will have failed, as the Sssselect will be in our handssss.”
“But Ehyeh will help them,” Pestifere argued. “And with His help, the twins will survive.”
“Yessss, Ehyeh will help them,” the dark underlord said, then hesitated, “but He will not give them anything. He will insist they sssstand on their own. He will but lead them.”
Zarek jumped to his feet. “Is that not enough?”
The intensity of Daeva’s flames expanded and increased. “The young women have not yet come into their powerssss. Perhapssss they lack the . . . wherewithal to do sssso. If that is the casssse, they will fail our tesssst.” He grinned maliciously.
“Test?” Pestifere asked.
“Yes,” Akka snickered, “our test. We shall lead them to The Tearless, then set before them a test they surely will fail, as they weaken there.”
Zarek looked from one of the underlords, to the next. “Why don’t you just kill them?”
“We cannot,” Sij said. “We have no power over life. You know that.”
“Yes, of course.”
“But we can exert our influencccce over them,” Daeva said.
“Tell us more about this test,” Zarek said.
“In due time. We want to know more of Lilith’ssss son.”
“‘Broden’ is his name. Sally and Janine confirmed his identity.”
“Will he prove to be more usssseful than his mother wassss? If this tesssst we speak of should fail, he may be important.”
“Yes,” Sij said, “but if he cannot assist us in fostering division and disagreement, he’s expendable.”
“I’m not sure he’s worth the risk,” Akka said.
“We should try,” the priest said. “Broden could be an immensely valuable tool, should we have need of him. And just think—an Oathtaker cut off his line. He’s sure to nurture thoughts of envy. We’ll foster that emotion.”
“For your part, for now,” Daeva said, “you ssssimply proceed with our other planssss. If the young women do come into their powerssss, the more you’ve accomplished, the better.”
Pestifere smiled. “Yes, we’ve stuck to our plan.”
“Do tell,” Akka said. He fairly giggled.
The priest leaned in. “
We’ve followed your direction to the letter. We’ve created division and planted discord in all of Oosa’s major institutions.”
“All?” Daeva asked.
“Yes, of course.”
“And the status of your efforts? As I said, if the young women gain their power, Oosa must be in dire straights if we are to succeed—at least until Zarek has the opportunity to use the great sword on them. So tell us—what have you accomplished?”
“Our people have infiltrated at all levels—among those who teach, those who lead, even those who control the town fliers and criers,” Pestifere said. “We’ve coordinated propaganda to undermine the authority of all of Oosa’s traditions.”
“One at a time,” Sij said. “If I’m to oversee the eventual disagreement, the war for control, I need to know what you’ve done.”
“Very well,” the priest said. “What do you want to know?”
“Take these teachers you spoke of, first. They are the most important, after all.”
The priest smiled. His eyes fairly glowed with the firelight emanating from the underlords. “We’ve been working on that since before our time with Lilith—for over two decades now.”
“And?”
“And as a consequence of our influence, many of the instructors, even some of those who train Oathtakers today, are in fact, loyal to us. They’ve convinced many Oosians that their history stands as witness to the evils of the Select. Of course, most of what they teach is false, but knowledge of Oosa’s true history is fast dying. Some of the instructors now in place, outwardly follow you,” Pestifere said to Daeva. “They do it under the guise of following Ehyeh, but in fact their fruits tell all. They glory in death and destruction.”
“You see,” Zarek interrupted, “once we got our people situated in positions of authority and control, we ordered them what to, and what not to, teach. Now they spend attention on matters that benefit our views. As to the history of Oosa, and the philosophies and ways of its founders, they instruct others in shame-filled, hushed tones. In truth, we’ve succeeded beyond our wildest dreams. Most Oosians today are all but ignorant of their true history—particularly the youth.”
Sij smiled, his approval evident.
“What of economic matters?” Akka asked. “That is, after all, the most ripe ground for sowing discord and disagreement.”
“Oh, you’d be proud of Zarek there,” Pestifere said.
“Oh?”
“The Select always taught about freedom,” the emperor said. “Right? About the freedom of people to enjoy the fruits of their own labor? Well, today many Oosians believe that they should have equal access to all—with no effort on their part.”
Akka giggled. “How did you accomplish that?”
“By teaching the children that they could never accomplish much, that they should have the same as others, regardless of their own inferior skills or efforts, and that others—those more capable—owe them.”
“Sounds rather like slavery,” Daeva said.
“It is,” the priest agreed, “and that’s the beauty of the plan. The young people in particular are too illiterate to reason that requiring something of someone else, makes a slave of that person.”
“Excellent!” the underlord exclaimed. “Tell us more.”
Pestifere laughed. It was a joyless sound. “Our people have infiltrated the ranks of those who provide entertainment—they’ve become musicians, storytellers, acrobats . . . Many of them support and promulgate our beliefs however, wherever, and whenever, possible.”
“Go on.”
“You should be so proud. Many Oosians today glorify artists who idolize death and immorality.”
“Very good. Very good,” the underlord praised. “And how is this plan working?”
“In conjunction with our other efforts? Marvelously!” the priest said. “The Oosians’ immoral artists are their new heroes.”
“I like it,” Akka snickered. “And it’s working, you say?”
“Oh, yes!” Zarek assured him. “You three were right all along. If we could get the people to turn from their histories and traditions, we could fill the gaps in with our own ways and thoughts.”
“And what of their communications?” Daeva asked. “You say you’ve been working on this for some time—since the days of Lilith. What have you done there?”
The emperor smiled, maliciously. “Those who provide information in Oosa today are already of a generation that knows nothing of Oosa’s past. We encourage them to belittle anyone who thinks that the study of their history is important—in short, anyone who thinks independently. We encourage them to treat such people as outsiders.”
“How many do you think have been fully . . . infected?” Daeva asked.
“By now? Oh, I’d say . . . roughly half the people would believe the words we pass out before they’d believe what they see before their own eyes,” Zarek said. “They are astoundingly . . . lacking.”
“Thanks to Zarek’s efforts,” Pestifere said.
“Yes,” the emperor confirmed. “We’ve prepared Oosa for takeover. Many of the people won’t know what’s coming—and they won’t care when it arrives. The remainder? They’ll be shouted down and discouraged. When their end comes, they’ll never know what hit them.”
“Exccccellent,” Daeva said, releasing a burst of power. “Exccccellent!”
Chapter Twenty-One
Chaya lay panting. I will not cry. I will not cry. I will not cry! She put her hand to her mouth, then drew it away. The bold redness of her slick, smooth, glistening blood, fairly screamed in the candlelight. She ran her tongue over her teeth, confirming she’d lost none. Wouldn’t Cark have a difficult time selling me if I was toothless! She looked up just as he rushed toward her again.
Feeling a door behind, she rolled to her side, then grasped its frame.
He crashed into it and grunted. “Bitch!”
She scrambled to her feet and then turned, seeking another weapon. There! His belt! She grabbed it, swung her arm back and whipped it out, catching the man around his knees. She pulled, but he, too strong and heavy for her to take down, merely missed a step.
She dropped the belt and looked again toward the door. She took one step, then another, her feet like lead, her head dizzy from the man’s beating. When she came within reach of it, he caught her ankle.
Twisting, she grabbed the leg of a nearby chair. With every ounce of energy she could muster, she swung it at him. As it crashed to the floor, just missing him, he released his grip.
She pulled away. The door! It’s so close . . .
He jumped before her, hatred burning in his eyes. He grabbed the chair and threw it to the side. It hit a table, sending the candle and crystal vase sitting upon it, to the floor. Glass shattered, filling the room with a tinkling, almost musical, sound.
Now in near total darkness, Chaya ducked as once again, she advanced. She spat blood, gasped for air.
Seconds later, he tackled her. He took her hands and pulled her arms over her head, then leaned in. In his free hand, just visible in the miniscule light that shone through the curtains, he held a large shard of glass from the broken vase.
He exhaled in her face, his breath rancid. “I’ll cut you!”
She went still. “Do it!” Then your precious investment will be worthless.
He hesitated.
He can’t stop now. “Do it. Do it!”
He tossed the glass shard to the side, released her arms, and then started to rise.
She pushed against his chest as he fell back. When free from his weight, she scrambled to her feet, but then tottered when he grabbed her ankle and pulled. She tumbled back to the floor and twisted to her side.
On his knees now, he steadied himself, then rose.
Again, she tried to stand.
He pulled his arm back and struck her, his full weight behind the blow.
She dropped and went still.
He fell to his knees, put his hands around her throat, and squeezed.
Once again, his hands crushed down, this time with even greater fervency.
She felt herself losing consciousness as everything turned black. Maybe I’ll finally be through with him. Maybe I’ll die.
“I’ll kill you!” he sputtered, as the last of her thoughts slipped away.
Slowly, Chaya regained consciousness. She wept quietly. Will there be no end to this madness? No escape for me? Why can’t I just die? He’d been so angry—so close to ending her misery. Why, oh why, did he stop?
She’d tried everything. She’d begged him to leave her alone, cried when he refused, and when that failed, tried silence. But he turned deaf ears to her pleas, and met her silence with indifference.
He’ll never let me go. Only death will release me from the insanity of this life—unless I kill him first. But how? Even Mansur, the one person she believed would help her, hadn’t been able to provide her with a weapon.
An unusual sound interrupted her thoughts. She opened her eyes to find herself on the floor, the lights out. Through the sheering-draped window, she could see it was still dark out. But then, thin rays of light shone from an area on the floor. Strange sounds emanated from the same source.
She sat up, her body aching. When she tried to get to her feet, she nearly toppled over, so she stayed low.
When the sounds she’d heard a moment before stopped, she froze.
A quiet minute passed, and then another, before the unusual sounds started again. She felt certain now that they came from where she saw light coming from below where a rug usually sat on the floor.
What is that?
She got to her hands and knees, then crept forward, inches at a time, careful to remain silent. When she reached the place from whence the lights and sounds came, she reached out.