Dame Falen motioned for her troopers to hold fast before following Rebecca and Monique through a side door into the conjuring room. Her skin began to crawl the moment she entered the room. Black and red painted mystic symbols covered the whitewashed walls, which seemed to writhe eerily at the edge of her eyesight. Only when she looked straight at the symbols did they appear to stop moving. Falen hated this room.
"Stand by the wall," Rebecca said, placing the ebon hairs in the middle of a large double-ringed pentacle drawn on the floor in the middle of the room. Falen moved over to stand beside the kneeling Monique. "The spell is simple enough. We should be able to locate them quickly."
Falen watched in fascination as Rebecca knelt beside the pentacle and began chanting in some sing-song language. The air grew musty and the room began to darken as the symbols on the wall started glowing. Even the teardrop sapphire on Monique's brow began emitting eerie blue light. Falen slowly edged away from the slave, taking up a position near the door. Just in case.
Soon a swirling mist rose up out of the pentacle. Rebecca frowned, changing the tone of her chants. Something told Falen there was a problem. The High Mage's demeanor had changed. Then muffled voices came from the mist. When Falen looked closer, she could just make out the images of four women forming. Within seconds she was able to recognize a human looking Danica and a very white Cat, and two red-headed Vikon. Though the picture was becoming crisp, the voices remained distorted and muffled.
"It's the best I can do without alerting the witches of my probing," Rebecca said, rising to her feet. "They are inside a Vikon owned tenement not far from here. The wards protecting the tenement are strong, for witches."
"Then we have them," Falen cried triumphantly, slamming a fist into her palm, and then her face twisted in rage. "By the Gods, I'll make them all grovel before me! I'll teach them to defy me! To mock me!"
Rebecca glanced over at her with a smile. "That's what I like to see in my agents." Her laughter was musical and surprisingly pleasant to Falen. It was the first time she'd heard the powerful sorceress laugh. "Bring them to me, all of them. After I'm finished with them, then you and Puma Troop can have them for the night, before I kill them."
Dame Falen's breath caught in her throat. Could it be true? Would she really be given Danica?
"Kill them? I thought High Mage Ayesha wanted them returned alive? She sent that Tyrian sorceress, Maeve, to find them."
Rebecca's grin was full of evil mirth. "It seems they are now useless to her schemes. She has captured Talar, the wizard that sent our little would-be kidnappers. The Goddess Dirusa now wants Danica sacrificed to her, to condemn her soul in Dirusa's realm for all eternity."
Dame Falen, eyes flashing in vicious glee, saluted and turned to leave. She would have Danica, and possibly without any restraints on how much abuse she inflicted. If not, well...High Mage Rebecca had a sadistic streak that made hers look timid. She was already looking forward to the sacrifice.
"Not so fast, Falen," Rebecca said. She made a strange gesture in the air, which Falen could swear glowed momentarily. "You will not be going alone this time. I'm sending for Maeve to go with you."
"Maeve is here? Already?" Falen said. Then remembering how the Tyrian sorceress was intent on taking Danica and Cat for herself. "I've no need for a sorceress, my Lady, and I don't think we should trust that sorceress at all."
"Oh, but you do need her. They are within a Vikon enclosure. You will have to fight magic to get to them," she said, turning back to the misty scene above the pentacle. Danica was stripping off her Vikon outfit and donning the clothes of an Amazon warrior. The Vikon witches were busy removing the face paint from Cat. "Maeve is perfect for this job since she is unknown in Dahlys and expendable to the cause. By having her destroy the Vikon tenement, we divert unwanted attention from ourselves." Turning back to Falen with death in her eyes, "And she is under a powerful geas that will make her totally ruthless. The Vikon will think twice before tangling with me after she is through with them."
Chapter 15
Carl's head jerked up. He stared at the door a second, then began scowling.
"They are coming," he growled low, pulling on the thick rusty chains binding his wrists behind his back.
Talar cocked his head to listen and heard the whisper of webbed feet on stone. By the sound of it, there had to be at least a score of the slimy howlers coming for them. There was no doubt that they were coming to fetch them, only one howler had been tasked with their upkeep since their failed escape attempt.
"It's about time," Talar said. "The waiting has to be worse than anything they could think up."
"I wouldn't bet too heavily on that one, wizard."
The cell door flung open, a mob of scurrying howlers raced in to seize the prisoners before they could offer resistance. Carl found himself lifted off the floor with embarrassing swiftness and ease. After kicking the first two howlers away, Talar offered little resistance. Once lifted off the ground, Talar relaxed in their grip. Carl, though, bellowed in impotent rage, bucking and kicking with little effect.
They were quickly carried back to the main hall, where Qasim waited impatiently on his nondescript throne. The chamber was tight-packed with silent howlers, staring worshipfully at their Warlord on the raised dais. Talar and Carl were chained to two thick wooden posts embedded at the edge of that dais of polished black marble.
While Talar watched the anxious Warlord like a hawk, Carl turned his attention to the wooden posts and chains holding them. The manacles were again rusty steel, and more than thick enough to hold the strongest man. They were attached to a thick iron ring bolted through the post just over their heads. The posts themselves looked to be of oak, stained dark from the blood of countless sacrifices.
A warm breeze, then the flapping of wings drew Carl's attention to the far right side of the dais. A huge golden hawk appeared out of nowhere, settling on the cold marble. Then it transformed itself into a beautiful, golden-haired, tawny-shinned woman with golden brown eyes. She was scantily clad in an outfit made up entirely of golden hawk feathers, barely covering her curvaceous body.
While Talar and Carl gawked at her, Qasim jumped to his feet and bowed deeply.
"Welcome, O Goddess of the South Wind and Summer," Qasim said solemnly.
Symona gave him a brief glance, then turned her attention back to the two prisoners. There was a bloodthirsty, hungry look on her beautiful hawkish face. Then two more hawks landed beside her. One was a stark white snow hawk, the other a dark brown prairie hawk.
The snow hawk immediately turned into a tall, thin young woman with snow white hair and sky blue eyes. She wore a white gown of fluffy down. Unlike her fiery Goddess sister, Symona, Basnoon looked upon the prisoners with cool disdain. The cold, calculating stare the Goddess of the North Winds and Winter graced them with sent chills up their spines.
An instant later, the prairie hawk screeched and became the Goddess of the West Wind and Autumn. Zymar's scantily clad body was similar to Symona's in dress and shape, promising great pleasure to anyone blessed enough to grace her bed, but her black eyes were as cold and ruthless as Basnoon's. She could have been mistaken for one of the desert folk, what with her raven wing hair, black eyes, and dark complexion.
For several minutes, the three sisters stared at the prisoners in silence. Qasim's attempt to engage them in conversation was met first with stony silence, then with enraged glares. Talar grinned as the cowed wizard skulked away. Apparently these Goddesses thought themselves too high and mighty to speak with a mere mortal.
When a sand-colored desert hawk came screeching out of oblivion, all eyes turned to her. Aroo, Goddess of the East Wind and Spring, transformed herself into a woman in midair, landing beside Basnoon. The skimpy outfit that almost covered her sultry body was of green and gold feathers. Carl found her to be the most beautiful to look upon, mostly due to her thick shock of fiery red hair, alabaster complexion, and mischievous emerald eyes. Seeing his interest, she let out a pea
l of musical laughter.
Carl grinned at Talar, "I think she likes me."
"Small conciliation, since she'd going to help torture you to death," he returned sharply.
Aroo gazed upon Carl with a lazy smile, her sisters looking at her sharply. Before anyone else could comment, Garn arrived with a clattering of hooves and bugling. The massive stag almost ran the Four Sisters over as it charged in with immense rack lowered threateningly. Talar noticed a flicker of fear in all the Four Sister's eyes. They were only minor Goddesses, while Garn was one of the oldest and best known. Though his power was much diminished, he was still more powerful than all the Four Sisters combined. Plus, he was known to be both reckless and short-tempered.
His transformation to his human manifestation was instantaneous. He stood before the prisoners with his fists on his hips, glaring at them. Garn had the most arrogant brown eyes either Carl or Talar had ever seen. The God of Beasts was a giant at over eight feet, with long shaggy brown hair and a stag's thick, shaggy winter pelt thrown over his wide, muscle-bound shoulders. His only other clothes were soft leather boots and a loincloth.
"Great Gods," Carl whispered at the sudden transformation.
"Exactly, barbarian," Garn said, looking even more arrogant, though a hint of pleasure could just be discerned.
Garn strolled to the Four Sisters, all staring at him in open adoration. He graced them with an arrogant smile, admiring their many charms himself. Carl noticed with a jealous frown that Aroo was the most brazen of the bunch, her smile and stance an open invitation that neither mortal nor God could possibly miss.
"Well, barbarian, your Love Goddess seems to have found something more to her liking," Talar whispered with a grin.
Carl snorted.
Dirusa chose that moment to appear without fanfare. She just materialized in an instant. She gave her fellow Gods a disapproving look, then turned to glare at Carl and Talar. They met her gaze steadily. If die they must, then they were determined to show these craven Gods and mages how real men died. With courage and blatant contempt for their slayers.
Turning to Qasim, Dirusa said, "This had better be good. We're taking great personal risks by being here."
At that pronouncement, Garn began to simmer in his own personal rage, while the Four Sisters looked about nervously. Talar suddenly found he had a measure of contempt for those minor Goddesses. Cowardice was not a trait he'd ever considered a God could possess, but the Four Sisters were proving him wrong.
"Let them show their ugly faces," Garn bellowed, shaking his fists at the heavens. "I'll gut the lot of them, and sate my thirst with their rancid blood!"
"Then why are you skulking fearfully in secret realms and not displaying your dishonorable deeds for all the heavens to see!" Carl cried angrily. "Hide from your fellow Gods if you must, craven, but spare us your idle threats and empty bravado!"
Sputtering in his rage, Garn moved toward them with blood in his eyes. Dirusa stepped before him, hands held before her. He paused and they locked gazes. For an instant, the tension level in the room rose dramatically, while everyone waited to see if these two powerful Gods would fight.
Finally, Garn growled, "Why do you try to deny my vengeance?"
"I do not, but you're too angry. Their deaths would be too quick," Dirusa said. "Let Qasim have them, to entertain us. Then, my friend, you can have their souls to play with for all eternity."
A smile spread slowly across the God of Beasts' dark, bestial face, eyes glinting evilly. Carl had reason to regret his outburst, damning himself for a fool. He should know better than spite a God.
"Then let the entertainment begin," Garn said, crossing his massive arms across his chest.
"So be it," Dirusa said. Turning to the wall, "Ayesha! We are waiting."
Within seconds, the giant red-painted pentacle began to glow, then a tiny black whirlpool began to form in its center. It slowly grew larger and larger, until it was as large as a typical door and just reached the floor. Talar was impressed.
Ayesha, dressed in the white uniform of her long dead Order of Knight-mages, came striding though the portal, one hand resting lightly on the white-dyed leather-bound hilt of her sword. She bowed deeply to all the Gods, then nodded at Qasim almost as an afterthought. Then she walked up to the prisoners, a look of triumph illuminating her beautiful face.
"Today our victory will be complete. My allies in the Amazon Empire have just informed me that they are moving in to capture that pathetic pair you sent to rescue your sister. I have ordered Rebecca to immediately dispose of them in the most gruesome manner possible." She smiled as the shock of that sank in. "By morning they will be properly sacrificed and join you in eternal torment. And soon afterwards I will rule the world."
"A worthless victory," Talar said.
"Worthless? Then why did you fight so hard to stop us?" Ayesha demanded.
"To save humanity," he said, shrugging the best he could, chained as he was. "Look around you, Ayesha. Don't be a fool. This is what our world will be like under you and Dirusa. This is that black-hearted Goddess's idea of paradise. Is this what you want to rule over? Ask Qasim how he feels about his God-given domain."
"Enough!" Dirusa cried.
"We should take out their tongues first," Garn said.
Dirusa turned to Qasim, "Well, wizard? What do you have planned?"
"I...I will conjure demons to torment and torture them," he said quickly. When that didn't seem to impress them, "I swear, they are a particularly nasty lot. I've used them in the past, before my Goddess blessed me with this realm to rule over."
"It is an acceptable start," Dirusa said. "But you had better come up with a spectacular finish, or I'll entertain everyone with some of my own ideas — on you."
Qasim stepped between the prisoners, hands shaking. "I understand, my Goddess, but I do believe you'll all be pleasantly surprised. I've already arranged a particularly hideous demise for our enemies here. These demons are insidious and horribly depraved."
"Save the barbarian's manparts for me," Aroo called out pleasantly. "I would have them for a necklace."
"Great Bandu Invincible!" Carl cried.
With that, Carl jumped up and took hold of the chains binding him. He kicked his legs up and over. Then as they hit the post astride the iron ring, he strained with all his not insignificant strength. The thick wood groaned, then shattered as the ring erupted in a deluge of splinters.
Falling at Garn's feet, Carl sprang up and swung the heavy manacles and ring up into the God's face. Garn fell back as Carl spun and kicked Dirusa back into Ayesha. In three steps he was on them, pulling Ayesha's sword with a cry of triumphant.
"Ha, ha! Call me Carl Godsbane!"
He spotted Qasim chanting a spell, and suddenly realized he was trying to call up those nasty demons. With a cry to Bandu, he darted over and kicked the wizard backwards into the dumb-struck howlers.
Turning on the recovering Gods, "Bandu Invincible, watch how your servant meets your craven enemies!"
"He'll watch you die!" Garn cried, transforming himself into a giant stag. "Dirusa, leave him to me!"
Dirusa hissed like a viper, but slowly back away. Her hate-filled eyes never left Carl. With Dirusa and Ayesha to his left, and the Four Sisters spreading out to block the right, Carl prepared to meet the God of Beasts in uneven combat.
A deafening blast of thunder staggered Carl, followed by a wild battle cry of purest joy. Suddenly before him, facing the stag, was a giant warrior wielding a great long sword longer than Carl was tall. In a stroke almost too quick to see, the newcomer split the skull of Garn, then kicked him off his blade.
"Bandu!" Carl cried with realization.
The God of War and Warriors, Bandu Invincible, turned and graced Carl with a crooked grin. "Well met, Carl Laughingbear!"
Carl fought an overwhelming urge to fall to his knees before his God. He fought it, feeling that Bandu had no respect for men like that. Instead, he turned and presented his blade at their enem
ies.
Dirusa, Garn — who healed himself, but remained a stag — and the Four Sisters were crouched and looked to be ready to attack. Then astride a giant white unicorn, Ashtar, Goddess of War and Adventurers, charged into their left flank. She scattered the Four Sisters before Garn smashed her mount into oblivion. Leaping over the enraged stag, she darted under Dirusa's hurdled magic and drove her legendary blade through the Goddess's black heart. Dirusa screamed and writhed a second on her bright silver blade, then vanished in a thunderclap.
"Ha! The craven bitch has fled the field!" Ashtar cried happily, ignoring Ayesha cowering against the wall. "And she thought to make me lick her Palace of Blood clean for all eternity!"
Carl and Talar looked upon the beautiful Goddess with nothing less than awe. She was known to be as ruthless as Dirusa, but could also be amazingly compassionate. Like her twin brother, Bandu, she loved a good fight as much as a boisterous victory celebration. She and her brother were two of the most popular Gods.
They were both gorgeous beyond comprehension, with lustrous black hair, alabaster skin, and emerald eyes. Ashtar wore her waist length hair loose, and sheathed her spectacular body in silvery armor and black leather. The armor was molded to her shapely body and even seemed to move with her like liquid steel. Bandu wore his shoulder length hair in a ponytail and twisted his long black beard into a single braid. He disdained armor at the moment, wearing only gleaming black boots and leather pants of burnt orange.
Bandu threw back his head and laughed. Then, with a glint in his emerald eyes, he turned on Garn. He transformed himself into his animal manifestation, a great white bull with long wickedly hooked horns. Both Gods pawed at the ground, eyes filled with rage and hate. The stag bugled and charged, with Bandu answering in kind. The thunderclap of their meeting staggered the mortals in the chamber and sent the howlers screaming to the doors in terror.
Carl stared at the Godly combat with stunned awe. Never had he expected to see such a sight. Both Gods bellowed in rage, sinking their murderous horns and antlers deep into each other. Blood flew everywhere, covered everyone and everything, but the wounds inflicted healed instantly. The battle lasted only a few minutes, with Bandu flinging Garn about and driving him across the chamber at will. It ended with a last bugle of rage from the stag before he turned and vanished.
Into Lands Forbidden (The Elfmaid Trilogy Book 2) Page 23