Rise of the Death Dealer

by James Silke

  A slight figure emerged from the fog beside the dark beastman, and leaned lightly against him, supporting itself with a hand on his shoulder.

  Brown John knew instantly who it was. The Nymph Queen. Tiyy. Black Veshta’s unholy high priestess. But she was also something more. He could feel it. Her powers were almost tangible in the air, and she had obviously made the fog, ordered it to gather at the center of the Inland Sea and spill out of the sky as if it were an obedient child. Only a deity could do that, and only a deity of dark intent. Black Veshta. The Dark Goddess had been made flesh, and the bukko stared in shock and wonder at her.

  She was a hoyden, at once both girlishly vital and alluring and as old and dangerous as time. He had never dreamed that pure evil could be so young and charming and desirable. It wasn’t fair. Appropriately naked except for a leopard-skin breechclout and a sheen of golden oil on her supple walnut body, she carried her new powers with the same ease with which the mighty oak carries its leaf cover, and the sensual satisfaction on her face was that of the bitch cat who has mated with the lion.

  She looked directly at Cobra and said, “Welcome back to Pyram, you slithering bitch. I think I’ve wanted you as much as I wanted the girl.” She laughed with childish mischief and added, “Almost, anyway.”

  Thirty-nine

  CENTRE STAGE

  Brown John did not move or speak. He wanted to, but did not know the next line of dialogue, or if it was his to speak. Two of the principal players in his plot suddenly seemed totally out of character, and it terrified him. It was a bukko’s nightmare come to life.

  Gath of Baal, his trusted friend who was the force that gave movement to the bukko’s plots, appeared to have left the cast completely. His body was present, but it looked as if it had been bent from within. There was no trace of the man he knew in its beastlike stance. It stood beside the Nymph Queen as obediently as a domesticated pet waiting to bark or kill on her command.

  The nymph herself, of course, was a total surprise. Goddesses were supposed to be regal, and formal, and robed in heavy velvets. But this one was housed in the body of a coltish savage, and there was enough delicious mischief behind her bright eyes to make sin look like the only endeavor worthy of life’s trials and tribulations. If anyone doubted this, her brazen nudity would end the argument before it started, and unbuckle your belt as well.

  She leaned casually against Gath, her fingers toying with his shoulder as she put two fingers inside her mouth and whistled shrilly like a child calling her pet dog.

  Worm soldiers promptly slithered from the shadowed holes pockmarking the black dusty walls. They wore spare leather armor, and their umber flesh was spongy and coated with slime. Dark holes served them as ears and wrinkles as features. Several had short, curved steel blades growing from their wrists instead of hands, while others leveled crossbows at the intruders.

  Brown John and Jakar moved side by side, their bodies shielding Cobra and Robin, but all four flinched with horror.

  Here and there along the wall facing them the dark earth crumbled apart as something behind them pushed at it. The earth fell away and the heads of huge worms emerged. As round and thick as rain barrels. Slick with slime and coated with dirt. Kival carnivore worms, long believed extinct. Their heads wriggled free, and their scarlet necks spread like hoods below jawless mouths lined with blunt, hard gums.

  Schraak laughed behind the barred door blocking the tunnel to the tide pool, and Tiyy sat against Gath’s knee, chuckling as she watched her victims wince with fear.

  “Come now,” she said easily, “what did you expect? That you could walk right into my castle and steal what you like without so much as a struggle?” She chuckled and added, “You’re not that foolish, are you?”

  Having no answer that seemed appropriate, Brown John turned to reassure the women and found Robin staring at him. Her big eyes were as empty as slate waiting to be written on, as if she, too, were out of character, eager to play whatever role he asked her to play, but with no idea what it was.

  He said, “Stay behind us,” as if he knew what he was talking about, and glanced uncertainly at Cobra.

  She was slumped back against the wall, staring vacantly at Gath. Whipped. Broken. The bukko grimaced. Jakar was the only one in character. He seemed to have not only endured the rigors of the quest but grown stronger from them, and in precisely the manner the plot now called for. His smile was right where it always was, but it was suddenly far more resilient.

  He winked at the bukko. “Why is it that I have the feeling this is not the kind of finish you had in mind?”

  Taking courage from the young man’s humor, Brown John smiled brazenly at the creatures threatening them. “Not exactly a comedy, is it?”

  “Fine by me,” Jakar replied easily. “I’m partial to tragedies.”

  Brown John chuckled, and Tiyy laughed with delight. “By Bled, you did think you could get away with it, didn’t you?” She came down the steps halfway with a bouncy stride and sat down, straddling the corner of a step. She leaned forward, arms thrust down between her parted legs for support, and cocked her head like a snappish tart, studying them. Her large sloping eyes carried that confidence only given to women who are certain they will be the most beautiful creature in every room they enter.

  The intruders shifted warily as if moved about by the sheer force of her glance, and Tiyy laughed again, loving their torment.

  Hating it, Brown John said, “Don’t laugh, wench! We’re not going to give up without a fight.” But the words were spoken by rote, without emotion or conviction.

  Tiyy ignored him and put her eyes on Cobra.

  “You’ve put on weight. Oddly enough, it becomes you. But your hair is a fright.”

  Cobra instinctively put a hand to her tangled, burnt hair and looked at the nymph, momentarily angered. Then the serpent woman’s arm dropped and her eyes became wet and thin, hiding none of the bitterness, defeat and misery she felt. Her mystery now seemed to be nothing but a tattered shroud, and it hid no more than her ragged tunic hid, making her look old, bitter and mean.

  “Ahhhh!” Tiyy said with a ring of delight. “Your age has caught up with you, hasn’t it? As well as your reckless greed.” She grinned and looked at the bukko as if he were an adorable stray dog, asking, “Now, who might you be?”

  “I am Brown John,” he said proudly, “the bukko master of the Grillards, and…”

  “So you’re the bukko,” Tiyy interrupted. “Well now, that’s a welcome surprise. Look!” She arched her back, displaying her high, hard breasts, extended her legs with toes pointed and lifted her arms, twisting slightly so she could be seen from all sides. “This is your work, old man.” She relaxed, leaning forward again, her voice intense with anticipation. “Your Grillard dancing girls were perfectly suited to my unnatural appetite, so I welcome you. A man with an eye like yours will be an invaluable addition to my staff.”

  Brown John was staggered, and the others could only stare in horror.

  Tiyy tucked her legs up under her and leaned forward with her elbows on her knees. “Now, let’s have a look at you, girl. Let’s see if all the fuss has been worth it.”

  Robin trembled against Jakar’s back, and he whispered, “Go ahead, stand up to her. I think she’s afraid of you.”

  Robin nodded uncertainly and came around Jakar, head high.

  Tiyy’s eyes thinned, and she uncoiled, slowly crawling down three more steps, as unconscious of her movements as a curious cat. She studied Robin, her head cocking from side to side, as if wary of what she saw.

  “You are worth the fuss,” she said flatly. “There’s no doubt of that.” She smiled warmly, like an old chum. “I thought it would irritate me to have to look at you, knowing that I had to rely on your Kaa… on your magic… to make mine fertile. But you’re a delight. In fact, it excites me, knowing our bloods are joined. You’re a rare piece of work, even in rags.” Robin unconsciously ran a hand through her hair. It had grown on the trip, and the sea water
had washed out most of the dye, so that the torchlight graced her amber waves with golds and oranges.

  “Why do you wear clothes, anyway?” Tiyy asked fretfully. “If you had any sense you’d go naked, like you were born to go. Putting on clothes is for fools. A stupid law made by stupid men.”

  “It’s a good law,” Robin said petulantly. “Besides, it’s cold in the forest.”

  Tiyy laughed easily, then her eyes widened with sudden recognition, and she said, “You don’t know, do you? You haven’t the slightest idea of why Cobra brought you here? To Pyram?”

  “It wasn’t her idea,” Robin said firmly. “It was mine. I offered to come, to help Gath with the helmet.”

  “Of course,” Tiyy said, and put her eyes on Cobra. “You would have had no trouble making her believe that.” She looked at the others. “But I’ll wager the girl provided little help with the helmet, perhaps none at all. Am I right?” They shifted nervously, and she laughed. “I am right, aren’t I? And that can mean only one thing… none of you knew what the slithering bitch was up to.”

  “We knew enough,” Brown John said importantly. Tiyy grunted. “You didn’t know anything, and you still don’t.” She leaned toward Robin, and her smile faded. “Cobra’s used you, girl. And you’re all going to suffer for being fools enough to allow her to do it.” Robin backed up into Jakar’s arms, but the Nymph Queen’s eyes and voice followed her.

  “Only yesterday, I could not have seen if there was anything more to you than a strong spirit. But now,” she nodded with the back of her head at Gath, “with his dark seed planted in me, with the powers of the Dark Goddess housed in my body, I can see everything that hides inside you.”

  Gasping, Cobra backed against the wall and came to a shuddering stop.

  Tiyy took no notice. She held Robin with her hypnotic eyes. They were now laden with the wisdom of a thousand years. Theaters to the underworld.

  “What hides inside you does not only make dreams that tame the helmet,” she said in a purring monotone, “but dreams for everyone with eyes to see them. Dangerous dreams so grand and noble and pure that they demand imitation… and there is no greater threat to my master than that.”

  Feeling a rush of excitement in his stomach, Brown John glanced expectantly at Robin out of the corner of his eye. But she looked just as she had throughout their journey, worn and frightened and adorned with rags and trail dust. He saw no dreams. Frowning irritably, he looked back at Tiyy.

  She now squatted on a step, and was grinning directly at him. “Disappointed, aren’t you, bukko?” She chuckled. “Sometimes a primitive gift of sight like yours can see it, or at least suspect it. But you obviously don’t. But Cobra saw it and intended to use it.” She turned to Cobra. “You see, in order to regain the trust of our master and regain her powers, she had to find some way to control the horned helmet. And the sacred jewels of the Goddess of Light could provide that way. But in order to steal them, she needed the girl.” Her smile turned on Robin, malevolent and toying. “Because only a female whose Kaa is pure and strong, who truly seeks the jewels not for herself, but for someone else, can hold them in her hands without being burnt to a cinder. And you, girl, have such a Kaa, and Cobra knew it. Your hands could pick up the jewels and steal them.” She chuckled mockingly. “At least Cobra believed they could.”

  “Come now,” said Brown John, “you don’t expect us to believe a fairy tale like that?”

  “Fairy tale!” Tiyy said, rising like a spitfire. “You call it a fairy tale, when for years it was only these hands,” she lifted her hands with fingers spread, “that could control the glimmer of their beauty? Hah! I suppose you thought that a shiftless, lecherous, money-hungry old clown like yourself could steal them?”

  Brown John scowled, his best scowl, but no sharp reply came to mind. The best he could do was shift his weight and stand one foot closer to the impertinent young bitch.

  Tiyy laughed at him. “You trusted Cobra, didn’t you, you old bouse bag? And all the time she was plotting to kill the lot of you.”

  “That’s not true,” blurted the bukko.

  “Be quiet, Brown,” Cobra muttered sharply. “In a way, she’s right.”

  Her voice was a bitter hiss, and Brown John stared open-mouthed. Was the hiss some vague instinctive behavior left over from years of demonic living, or was the serpent still there? He had no idea, and aching pain welled inside his chest.

  Cobra turned her bitter eyes on Tiyy. “Are you finished playing now?”

  “Not quite,” Tiyy said impishly. “Since your skill and cunning have brought you this far, I think you deserve a reward before you die… so I’m going to let you look at them.”

  “The jewels?” gasped Cobra.

  “Yes,” Tiyy said temptingly, “the jewels.”

  Cobra straightened slightly. “You don’t dare,” she said, a blush of hope passing behind her grey-gold eyes.

  “On the contrary,” Tiyy said with wicked anticipation. “I would not miss this for the world.”

  Forty

  THE JEWELS

  The nymph looked down at Schraak and nodded. He pulled his slick, grinning face away from the barred door, and scurried back into the shadows of the entrance tunnel out of sight.

  Brown John, Cobra, Robin and Jakar looked about uncertainly, not knowing what to expect or where it might come from. The sounds of clanking chains came from the barred passageway, then the grating sounds of metal tearing against metal, and behind them four of the blocks of obsidian began to settle into the ground.

  They turned sharply and backed away, watching the slow, grudging descent. Then Cobra, her breath suddenly heaving with heedless excitement, edged toward the opening being made by the massive blocks. The others moved up beside her.

  Behind the opening, a timber door joined together by steel bars was coming into view. Dust filled the cracks between the timbers and the doorframe, and the door was set behind it on runners, a sliding door.

  The descending blocks of obsidian came to a stop with a crunching jar, and dust fell away from the ceiling, landing on faces and shoulders. They blinked, rubbing the dust away from their eyes, and stared warily at the door.

  Here and there, through tiny cracks between the heavy beams, bits of brilliant white light streaked through, reaching across the full depth of the cave.

  The group drew away from them, mystified.

  “Open it, Cobra!” Tiyy shouted lightly. “You’ve wanted to do this all your life! Don’t be a coward now!”

  Brown John, Cobra, Robin and Jakar looked back sharply, their eyes suspicious.

  Tiyy stood with legs apart and fists on hips, her hoyden smile moving on her firm cheeks. A thin beam of white light was streaking past her, playing on the wall behind the staircase. She lifted a hand, caught the beam with the palm and moved it in a slow circle, controlling the white light and making the beam swirl and dance.

  “Isn’t it beautiful?” she said. “You can even play with it.”

  Brown John glanced warily at a beam of light striking the ground beside him, and covertly slid his hand into the beam. It stung him, and he jumped away, yelping.

  Tiyy laughed, and spread her arms. “I’ll help you,” she said, “so it won’t hurt.”

  She rose up onto her toes, arching and thrusting, and beams of black light emerged slowly and languorously from the palms of her hands. They edged across the room, then came apart in flurries of smoky mist, drifting to the closed door and settling there, slightly darkening the brilliant bits of white light.

  Cobra, heaving with anticipation, moved to the door, took hold of the door handle, tried to pull it. It didn’t budge. Brown John and Jakar joined her, and together they pulled. The door surrendered a squeaking noise, grated, then slid open and white light spilled out.

  They ducked away from the glare, covering their eyes with their arms, and the light billowed into the black cave, mixing with the shady mist to fill it with a bright glow. The astounded group peered over and under a
rms, watching the light swirl on itself inside the dungeon cell. It seemed to have body, life.

  The savage nymph squatted between Gath’s legs, laughing easily with her arms wrapped around his thighs. “Go ahead!” she shouted. “Go inside, the jewels won’t hurt you now.”

  The foursome shared a wary glance, then Cobra hurried into the cell and the others followed. Inside the door, they suddenly stopped short, shielding their eyes with their hands.

  A pillar of white light stood at the center of the small cell. It rose from a black pedestal to the middle of a black stone ceiling, supporting it. At the very center of the ceiling, white light illuminated the mouth of a narrow shaft, no bigger round than a walnut. The light billowed in it as if it were plugged somewhere above. In each corner, thick square columns of black stone also supported the ceiling. The superstructure on which Pyram’s main tower rested. The column of light was obviously the primary support. It shimmered with living power, constantly changing its faceted shape and proportions, and a nimbus of white light billowed and radiated from its transparent body. The sacred jewels were not jewels at all, but a single jewel, a whiteness without flaw or corruption which was at once both form and formless.

  Cobra shrieked at the daunting vision and turned away, collapsing on the ground.

  Recklessly, Brown John advanced on the massive jewel, his hands moving restlessly in front of him. Every sense wanted to hold the light, and caress and fondle it. But even if his heart was as pure and true as Robin’s, his hands could not have. And neither could any female hands, no matter how pure.

  The jewel was impossible to hold. It had no more substance than an illusion.

  Suddenly Brown John backed away.

  The pillar seemed to be fading. Then the room filled with whiteness blotting out all vision, and the glare blinded him. He staggered back, brushing someone, but he could not see who it was, and reached the door. There Jakar stood with his back to the light, blinking and trying to regain his vision. Cobra was slumped beside him, wearing an expression that said she no longer had the will to stand upright. Shielding his eyes, Brown John heard Tiyy laugh, and there seemed to be no malice in it, only childish delight. Then fog came tumbling down from the place where he had last seen her, and mixed with the light, reducing it to a bright glare. He rubbed his eyes, blinking. When he could see again, he turned back toward the jewel.