Keepers of Eternity

by kimberly

  "I, too, learned from you," he said, giving a slight nod of his head. "You knew all the tricks."

  Morgan's betrayed neither a smile nor grimace. "And you know I no longer practice them since leaving the occult."

  "Your defiance is no longer amusing, Morgan." Xavier considered the weapon that was now his. "Once such power was yours… You were a fool to throw it away."

  "I walked away! As was my right."

  Xavier's relentless eyes narrowed. "It is no one's right to walk away. The occult claims a soul unto the end." He cocked his head. "But I am of the mind you did not walk away. Rather, you lost your nerve--as well as your soul."

  "None can accept I would willingly walk away from the legacy--that the petty rivalries and jealousies that destroyed our world do not interest me. The old wars will never die because those such as you still seek to hold higher powers."

  "Yet the power vested in you was a very real thing," Xavier retorted. "You once held the key to end the wars… a key I now hold to ignite them once again now that I own you."

  "I will not serve your command. Ever!"

  "Then you will face the consequences," Xavier thundered, gesturing to the hovering, silent Jan-si. "Take him." The Jan-si warriors grabbed Morgan. The single Raider who had inexplicably turned against his comrades was also taken, two guards thrusting him bodily against a wall, wrestling and then bracing him against the stone like a fly impaled on a pin.

  "Now," Xavier growled. "Because you all have defied me, I shall begin the torture." He gestured with the sword, advancing to loom over his new prisoner. "So, you dare turn upon me," he said.

  Breathing hard, the Rutola spat, "Anything to help take you down…"

  Xavier's features hardened. Such were not the words he wished to hear.

  "Well, then, you shall certainly not be spared the fate I had in mind for Morgan. You shall hang upon my wall beside him, Rutola, a warning to the kinsmen who might be planning as you did."

  Temporarily silenced, the Raider looked away. He closed his eyes, but only briefly, as if he were waging some fierce inward struggle, a battle going on in his mind. When he looked up again, defiance burned brighter in his gaze. "I'll gladly hang."

  Xavier slipped back behind an impassive mask. "It will not be so easy for you, Rutola," he said.

  A peculiar smile crossed the Raider's face. "I'll neither beg for my life, nor serve the will of another."

  Reaching out, Xavier placed his hand against the Raider's chest, his long thick fingers probing through bloodstained material. "There is a way to do it right, do it slow, so that death doesn't come too quickly. I remember how Morgan would do this very thing, in such an effective way."

  "I expect no less," Rutola spat. The eyes of the two men locked, each assessing the other, neither refusing to back down from the path each had to pursue.

  Placing the tip of the sword at the space where it would slide easily through bone, Xavier thrust its blade hard, penetrating the left side of the Raider's chest, stopping just before he'd pierce the lung. Blood slowly seeped from the narrow wound when he withdrew the blade.

  "A slow strangling, the loss of breath… Asphyxiation as you begin to drown in your own blood."

  "You must do better than this to take my life."

  Xavier's lips shrank back in a misshapen grin. He moved his hand to the left.

  "Better?" The tip of his weapon shifted into place. "All I have to do is push." Unexpectedly, he drew the blade away and cast it aside. "However, I have other matters to see to before I kill you."

  Xavier turned back to Morgan. "Whatever chance you thought you had to get away from me alive has passed."

  "It is not over as long as I have breath," Morgan warned. A hard object struck him from behind, dropping him to his knees. The sudden brief jar stunned him and he felt a warm trickle of blood behind his ear. A Jan-si stood over him, brandishing a crude club.

  "You have always been stubborn, hard to break, " Xavier mused. "Let us see if your woman cannot help change your mind." He gestured toward Julienne. "Bring her here!"

  Loosening Julienne from her bonds, the Jan-si pinned her arms behind her back.

  Julienne desperately looked at Morgan. He was so far away from her and unable to offer any comfort. Her lips trembled with cold fear, but her chin held determination. Without understanding what had been said, she had instinctively picked up the sorcerer's intent. She was helpless, though very consciously aware of what was happening to her.

  "Don't let him use me against you," she begged, her eyes glazed with fear.

  "Silence, woman!" Xavier gave her a hard slap. The sharp stone in his ring cut deeply into her skin. "Too quickly do you seek to condemn yourself for your lover." His smile grew wider, his gloating a low chuckle in his throat. "The centuries are ever so boring without strife to keep the senses sharp, the blood boiling."

  Morgan saw the trickle of blood run down the side of Julienne's face. Watching her torture, he felt his throat tighten. She was too stunned to resist when Xavier grasped her with sharp fingernails and brought her face close to his scarred visage.

  "Soon, very soon, you will all kneel before me, worship me…"

  "Not in this lifetime!" Morgan snapped.

  Xavier's scarred face grew dark, menacing. "I have plans that will change that. I'll have my revenge against you, this day. Just as I watched Nisidia die at your hand, so you shall see this woman in torment." The sorcerer began to dig his nails deeply into the skin of Julienne's face with an intensity that stifled her scream of agony. Deliberately, he ripped into her from forehead to jaw. Blood trickled in rivulets as she writhed convulsively. "Remember your face as it was, pretty one, because when I finish with you, no one with eyes shall be able to look upon your ugliness."

  A groan of pain escaped Julienne's slack lips. Crying with anger, she could only withstand the pain, her vision blurred by blood flowing from the trenches Xavier's poisonous fingernails had ripped into her flesh.

  "I have discovered my type of persuasion always gets me what I wish." Releasing his grip, Xavier surveyed his handiwork; pleased, he said, "Do you wish to beg for her now?"

  Julienne gasped when one of the Jan-si wrenched back her head to show the damages etched into her face. She whimpered when the guard yanked a handful of her hair.

  Morgan slowly shook his head. No. "Kill her," he said, mentally distancing himself from his lover. It was as he had warned her: she had become a liability, an impediment toward his objective for returning to Sclyd. In his mind, and in his heart, she had to become disposable. "She is only a mortal," he continued. "She means nothing to me." His eyes were slits of hate, but he kept his voice steady.

  "You trump my challenge," Xavier laughed, a booming burble of sheer evil. "Death would free her, certainly not what I want to do with her--yet. I think perhaps it's more to my advantage to keep her beauty intact. Like a rare bird, I'll hang her in a gilded cage and keep her just out of your reach, yet so firmly within my own. Sex with her," he chuckled, "could be most interesting."

  "I care not what you do with her, Xavier," Morgan returned inflexibly. He felt every second of his impotence, but he must not let his feelings for Julienne hamper him further--a cold hard fact, but a true one nevertheless. It was time to play his final hand, the one he had held as a last resort since the Jan-si warriors had ambushed them. "She is yours."

  "I see you make no bargains today," the sorcerer snorted. He motioned for his guard to let loose of Julienne. She fell to the cold stone in a heap.

  "He needs time upon my wall to think." Xavier said. He snapped his fingers, summoning his men. "Crucify him."

  Outside the sorcerer's sanctuary, barely seen through the murky whiteness of the mist, were the dilapidated remains of a stone wall. Its height was soaring and its length nearly endless, and an array of arches supported by pillars broke its solidity. Many of the arches had crumbled under the weight of age and abandonment. In places where the wall was intact, effigies were carved into its face: the m
any forms of the Dragon, Oroborous, through the ages. Deep, empty eye sockets glared, broken jaws gaped open in silent screams, telling of the carnage the image inspired. Between the stone carvings hung crosses of wood. The petrified, contorted remains of those left to die slowly and painfully hung nailed to the crucifixes. A scattering of bones littered the parched ground. Skulls, some human, some not, lay piled at the base of the pillars, trophies of a war better left forgotten in the obscuring mists.

  The ruins of a vast city whispered of a time when rituals were bloody and the sacrifices of innocents numbered in the thousands as the cult spread its terror into other worlds. And while only relics of Xavier's vast empire remained, these silent witnesses bore the testimony of a happening many wished to the gods they could forget. As long as Xavier lived, he would continue his fiendish ways as he sought to regain the power he had lost.

  The Jan-si twisted Morgan's arms behind his back. Two prepared the thick slabs of wood. A thick plank six feet long was crossed with another of equal length, the two fitting together in a large X. A second, flatter piece of wood was fitted across the upper half of the X and set into place. Spread-eagled on this torturous device, the victim would be tied at waist and legs. The arms were pierced from wrist to elbow with long bronze nails that would complete the crucifixion.

  Dragged to the cross, stripped of his tunic, Morgan waited impassively as the sleeves of his shirt were torn open to bare his arms. His arms were lifted and pinned to the planks. As the two men held them in place, another pressed a bronze nail into his skin. With a single blow, he drove the spike straight through Morgan's wrist. Blood seeped from the wound before the nail sealed it.

  Morgan flinched when the pain assailed his system. He gritted his teeth against the torture, determined not to plead for his life. It is not worth the begging.

  "Say your last words," Xavier laughed.

  "I will see you in hell!" he snarled.

  Another bronze nail was driven into his right forearm, spaced three inches from the first.

  "My friend, this is hell." Ever so deliberately, Xavier reached into a deep pocket of his robe. He pulled from its depths a small crystal pendent dangling enticingly from a long gold chain. He swung the pendent back and forth before his prisoner.

  "Remember this?"

  "Yes." Through Morgan's mind flitted visions of the lover he had strangled. Nisidia. Xavier's wife.

  "Centuries ago, I forged this in the fires of Gidrah, created it of the very blood coursing through your veins. The essence of your self is in my hands. Your body, your mind, your soul, are mine for the using, for you cannot deny the bond." Xavier's voice took on a hypnotic quality. "Do you remember betraying me, old friend?"

  "I remember."

  "You could save yourself."

  "What you want of me I will not give."

  "There is still time for you," Xavier prodded. "You know what I wish."

  "Execution," Morgan answered. "Yes, I know."

  Xavier licked wet lips. "The council of witches. Now that Megwyn has turned to the Dragon, they have become obstacles to our plans. For centuries, you carried out their judgments, executing those who dared defy supernatural law as they believed it should be, forcing many of us back into the shadows to fight for scraps of conquest among ourselves! These centuries of peace have dulled their sense of occult supremacy. They have grown comfortable and complaisant in their positions of power. If they fear any, Morgan, it is you. You turned away from them. To their minds, you are an outlaw now. It would be fitting for them to find death by your hand, even as your own sister betrays them."

  "You will not draw me back into the web," Morgan replied. "With or without Megwyn, to assassinate the council would be to plunge our world back into the old wars."

  "So you say. Yet, if you were ever brought before the council for trial of your own crimes, you would be executed," Xavier said. "No matter your words of denial, Morgan, I know the challenge tempts you, for I saw firsthand how powerful you became before you foolishly renounced the occult. The hunger still burns inside you, I think."

  "I will not go back." Morgan winced as the third bronze pin penetrated his arm, "and I will not kill for you."

  Xavier swung the pendent. "Is it a threat, my slave?"

  "It is a promise."

  "Turn around, you bastard!" A cry of defiance echoed through the dungeon. "This time I'll take you down!" The words were Julienne's. Forgotten by the guards, she had somehow managed to compose herself enough to take action. Moving with unexpected speed, she lifted the Raider's crossbow and pulled its trigger. Her aim was dead on. The arrow she freed pierced Xavier through his hand, the one holding the crystal pendent. His staff dropped to the floor as he clutched his wounded hand.

  The crystal hovered in the air barely a second before shattering on the stone floor. Tiny pinpricks of light shot from its scattered fragments, emphasizing the glint of the ring lying within the midst of the broken glass.

  "No!" Xavier's anguished cry was harsh. He pulled the bolt from his hand and flung it into the glowing red pit of coals. The serrated shaft ripped through his skin, tearing the palm of his hand open wider. Blood spilled from the wound.

  "Kill them all!" he commanded his slaves.

  Seeing his final chance, Morgan wrenched up his arm, tearing his flesh to shreds as he ripped free from the bronze nails. He quickly stretched, testing every fiber of his damaged being. Agony assaulted him, but he did not care. He had lived with a pain far greater than any Xavier could ever inflict. Revenge raged in his mind.

  Lifting his damaged arm, he flexed his fingers. His movements were stiff, clumsy, but he had not lost use of the hand. He shot a quick glance toward Julienne. Though clearly suffering from the dreadful wounds on her face, she advanced bravely, braining one of the Jan-si warriors with the crossbow. Her move helped Rutola escape his captors, and the Raider threw himself into the battle. "Fight for your life, woman!"

  "I don't intend to die in this hell hole!" Julienne shouted. Though she could not understand the Raider's words, instinct moved her into furious action. She, too, claimed a shield and sword from one of the wounded Jan-si. She was not a skilled fighter, but she was a desperate--and angry--one.

  Overcoming her atrocious pain, Julienne knew she must fight or die in this wretched place. Helping the wounded Raider, she attacked with the fury of a woman who had been abused, but would be abused no more. More than the instinct to survive moved her. She held within her the guiding force of her Blackthorne ancestors and their enchanted legacy--and she carried in her veins the blood of an immortal being. For the first time Morgan recognized her strengths, recognized that she was more than worthy to be his woman, for she was, wholly, his creation.

  There is more to her than meets the eye, he thought, admiring through new eyes her tall, lithe form. She has the makings of a true Amazon. When this is over…

  Rolling onto his side, Morgan gave a savage kick to the Jan-si warrior wielding the mallet. Knocking the heavy hammer from the man's hand, he snatched it up and used it to brain him with a single, savage blow. Then the assassin claimed more appropriate arms for himself from the corpse and began to wage his own personal war.

  Xavier's remaining soldiers rushed for him, fighting with fury, but Morgan countered with the survival skills that had seen him through centuries. Time for the real fighting to begin, he thought, and threw his body into motion.

  It was a slaughter, seeming to last hours but in reality taking only minutes. Soon, only Julienne, Morgan and the Raider warrior remained standing, fierce combatants who had succeeded in taking down Xavier's guards. Breathing heavily, casting his gray stare around the steaming dungeon, Rutola said, "It is over."

  Morgan turned his gaze on the rogue. "Why did you help?"

  Rutola laughed, his face breaking into an amused grin. "I could not forget you gave my brother life when it could have been taken by Xavier's legions. I've waited a long time for eiric, retribution." His face twisted in disgust. "Running with these a
nimals, betraying my own people to get into this animal's lair."

  This animal's lair. The words echoed in Morgan's mind. Lowering his weapon, he turned his attention to the sorcerer. Now, Xavier was the captured prey. He had not engaged in the physical fight. He had merely observed, as if watching a play put on entirely for his amusement. There was something in his attitude, as if to say he was not prepared to surrender.

  "The tables have turned, have they not? You no longer have possession of my soul," Morgan said. "Where are your spells now to protect you?"

  "It's not over," Xavier grinned. 'You think I can't call the Dragon to my beck? Behold his power and tremble in his wake!" Lifting his staff, he began to intone a weird chant, one that gave strength to his voice and his body. "Master of the abyss, answer my summons. Protect me now from thine enemy!"

  Electric tension grew, pulsing with resonance as lightning began to flicker around the ram's head, lighting its undead eyes with a queer illumination. Its mouth began to spasm, snapping open and shut, the sound of its gnashing teeth resonating like thunder throughout the dungeon, cracking the heavy air apart with a tremendous deafening crash. Fire spewed vomit-like from its gaping jaws, enveloping the sorcerer in a protective circle of orange-yellow flames. Naked, writhing bodies could be seen in the inferno. Hands grasping, mouths agape, faces contorted with pure unadulterated hate, they performed a demonic choreography--a dance of the damned.

  "He's thrown up a circle of protection!" Rutola yelled, pulling Julienne away from the fire as its flames whooshed toward the sorcerer to protect him from all sides.

  Laughing, Xavier turned his wrathful stare on Morgan. Rage smoldered in the sparks behind his single brown eye, a wrath all the more dreadful for its composure.

  "All most powerful Oroborous, my cry now rings out. Take thine enemy, smite him, break him, scorn him! From the deepest pits of thine hell, cast your burning talons upon him…"

  Jumping back from the deadly flames, Morgan could feel the heat of the conflagration inside his skull, vibrating the bones of his body, as if to incinerate him from within. He realized Xavier was training every bit of his mental energies on him, determined to break his resistance in a mental battle of wills. He knows my weakness. Darkness, the all-consuming darkness, stabbed his eyes with a blow that splintered his essence into a thousand shards. Like a cancer, Xavier's will fought to overtake his own, spreading through his body with unstoppable force