“I have not failed to consider other meanings to Raine’s words, but that doesn’t have anything to do with what I asked you.”
“Granted,” Kyouin shrugged, giving a flippant roll of his eyes that earned a giggle from Vaneye.
There was a thought sprouting and gaining strength in the back of her mind that Raine, as unnerving as she was, might be more tolerable than this arrogant lad.
“Theruses is much less patient than I am,” she warned, “and I’m about ready to throw you over my knee like the child you are.”
Kyouin grinned, and Amahna instantly regretted her words. “Remind me to take you up on that later, but I think we should pick up the pace for now or we’ll never get there.”
CHAPTER THIRTY SEVEN
By noon Dephithus was set up with new clothes and a companion whose death he fantasized about in myriad creative ways. At least the fantasies brought a smile to his lips, albeit a rather grim one.
Shortly after Hydra was cared for he had sent Rakas out with a pocketful of coin to find a mount and some other things they needed to continue the journey, including a change of clothes for him.
He almost hoped the man would take the coin and disappear.
Still, he had no idea how to find this cave, and, if it were a small enough entrance he might never find it alone. If he did find the cave on his own, once inside he would be completely at the mercy of his enemies who lived there and knew the dark passages and the dangers that he might overlook. With Rakas as a guide, assuming he dared trust the man, the odds were more balanced. That was to say that it was no longer an impossible task. Unlikely, perhaps, but no longer impossible.
Rakas did return, to a mix of relief and displeasure, and he brought with him a handsome rust-colored gelding he must have bartered fiercely for to afford with the coin he had been given. The clothes he brought were also much finer than he should have been able to get at that price. Dephithus found himself dressed in a lightweight jacket and pants of a satiny forest green with sparse silver embroidery. The shirt was a light tan color with the same satiny feel. It was almost as if he was preparing for a casual family dinner in the Elysium palace.
Then he noticed Rakas standing watching him from the corner, his mouth slightly open and desire burning in his features. From that moment, on a roiling hatred filled Dephithus again and every word he spoke dripped with bitterness.
Even as they rode out of the city, in the dust of a Legion troop that had recently passed, Dephithus could not shake the foul undertone of bitterness that coated everything he thought and said like oil. There was an obvious problem pending with the unit of soldiers somewhere not far ahead of them, but he could not focus past his all-consuming hatred for the man beside him. Every minute that hatred boiled over in him it was making the daemon-seed stronger and that, in turn, would make rescuing Myara and his child much harder. Still, taking advantage of his unwanted companion’s knowledge of the caves location and its passages could save him a great deal of time. Time that Myara and his child would otherwise spend suffering in those passages. He had to be stronger than his hate.
Eventually, it was Rakas who suggested the obvious.
“Perhaps we should ride away from the road, more in the cover of the trees.”
Dephithus nodded, scowling despite himself and making no move to turn off the road. The suggestion, as sensible as it was, got churned in with the rest of his thoughts too quickly for him to internalize and respond to it. After a few more minutes, Rakas began to turn his gelding into Hydra, trying to herd them off the road. Hydra snorted and gave a warning kick at the other horse, jarring Dephithus from his ponderings. Looking at the other animal encroaching on their space, Dephithus recalled what Rakas had said and turned Hydra away from the rust gelding. Rakas bumped his mount to a trot for a moment, moving ahead, then slowed again once Dephithus was behind him.
Glaring holes through the drab, dark clothes Rakas wore, Dephithus urged Hydra to catch up. With his intense focus on the other man’s back, he noticed something unusual about his attire. His dark cloak moved with an unnatural elegance even in the slightest breeze. It rippled in a way that was more like fluid than fabric. Maybe there was some secret in that garment. Or maybe it was something else. He had blocked the sword with his arm and had somehow gotten far more value from the coin Dephithus had given him than he should have been able to.
He moved Hydra up next to Rakas, tempering violent hatred to a more passive loathing for the sake of curiosity. “How did you deflect my blade with your arm?”
Rakas glanced at him, looking puzzled for a moment before recognition flickered in his black eyes. “Oh, yes. When you tried to kill me at the inn. I was using a manipulation I figured out with the daenox over the last several years away from the cave. Now that the power is free in the world and not so concentrated, I find it easier to work with.”
The shade dropped the temperature several degrees and Dephithus absently pushed back his hood once they were fully in the cover of the trees. He noticed, for the first time, that, in addition to losing his tremors, Rakas looked healthier than when he had last seen him in Imperious. The man had filled out some and regained a more natural color. He would be rather attractive if such refined masculinity and base evil appealed to Dephithus.
The toxic rage started seeping through his veins like lava, and he had to willfully tamp it down.
“Why did you leave the cave?”
“Theruses was growing tired of me, and he isn’t known for tolerating unwanted things in his cave. My life had no value to him anymore. I decided to move on before he moved me on.”
“Theruses?” As Dephithus spoke the unfamiliar name it slid, thick and vile, over his tongue. That could not be a good thing.
“He is the one Amahna bends knee to. The one I used to bend knee to. Theruses, Lord of the Daenox, or so he claims, but the daenox is free and he is still in that cave.”
That was wonderful news. All he needed was a bigger, meaner enemy than Amahna to contend with. “What is he like, this Theruses?”
The name did not taste any less vile the second time.
Rakas regarded him in the most detached way, almost as one might look at someone who they expected to die. Despite the connotations, Dephithus found it more bearable than the desire and longing that usually accompanied his looks.
“Theruses is a little like you, only larger in build all around. Stronger. Much taller. He has scaling like yours, only gold and more of it, and a tail. His feet are clawed and his eyes and hair are as black as soot, much like mine, only they seem darker somehow. He is not at all forgiving, but he looks after those who ally to him and sees that they are provided for, so long as they don’t displease him. Theruses is very powerful, and he is not likely to hand your loved ones over to you if they are his prisoners.”
“Aren’t you afraid he’ll kill you if you go back there?” Dephithus forced a calm tone, though his mind raced with the complications this new information provided. Why hadn’t Vanuthan mentioned this Theruses? Did she not know about him? Or perhaps she believed Dephithus would give up before he started if he knew what he might face.
“I’m sure he will, right after he is done killing you.”
Dephithus spared a glance for his odd, unwelcome companion. “Then why are you coming?”
“I gained a little more time by leaving the caves, but the daenox is still killing me. I would rather die doing something to right some of my wrongs than sit around and watch this chaos unfold while I waste away.”
Dephithus shrugged. That was good enough if it was going to work to his benefit, though he got the feeling there was more Rakas was not telling him. With a nudge of his heels he picked the pace up to an easy trot. There was no point in delaying the inevitable.
If he could perhaps get Myara and their child free before Theruses knew they were in the cave, he would count that a success whether or not he lived through it. Still, living through it was the preferable option. Maybe Theruses would be angry en
ough with Rakas for bringing him there that he would kill him first. That might buy them some time. Then again, what if Rakas were seeking to win favor with Theruses by bringing Dephithus to him? There were simply too many unknowns.
As the day moved toward another cloud covered dusk, Dephithus began to feel uneasy again. Bad company was already with him, but there was more of that to go around nowadays than any one person could handle. He silently cursed the clouds, and Hydra sped up in response to his disquiet.
Perhaps it was the swift pace in the darkness or perhaps it was that they were each too lost in their own thoughts. Regardless of which, they came out of the trees at a controlled canter into a clearing filled with the soldiers they had been behind earlier. The troop had stopped to set up camp for the night, the lack of fires and noise making it clear that they were trying not to draw attention. Dephithus and Rakas pulled up fast in surprise and a stunned silence followed. Even in the deepening dark, his face was too well known, and the picture-perfect stillness was broken when one of the soldiers cried out.
“Arrest them!”
With panic swelling in his chest Dephithus drove Hydra from a dead stop to a full gallop with a powerful strike of his heels. In seconds, Rakas was rushing along after them. The soldiers around them broke for their own mounts and gave chase. At the far side of the clearing they barreled into the forest, dodging trees and risking jumping the fallen ones rather than wasting time to go around. Hydra was surefooted and Dephithus did not care if Rakas could keep up on his mount or not. It sounded like a whole herd of bad company was right behind them.
CHAPTER THIRTY EIGHT
Amahna’s attention was constantly being drawn back to the abomination Kyouin had heading up the rest of his daemon army. There were grotesquely twisted higher level daemons all around them now, and they all seemed to be bound to the young daenox priest in some peculiar way that she had not figured out yet. Their smaller party coming down from the mountains had joined in with numerous human warriors as well at the camp near Corbent Calid, but Kyouin seemed less interested in these. He showed off his undead warrior with great pride, and Amahna began to feel a creeping dread as she realized the power of the army he was bringing together.
The undead warrior on his undead horse was an impressive achievement in daemon manipulation. In life, the beast had been a renowned warrior who fought in the last wars before the banishment of the daenox and the dragons. He had been known as Ryche. His true name had become lost in the great shadow cast by his achievements under that name. In battle he had brought down thousands of daemons, even daring to go and drive them out of their lairs into the swords of other warriors. Yet, when the fighting ended after the dragons and daenox were imprisoned, he was brushed aside, and his great deeds forgotten. So Ryche turned his formidable skills on those he had fought for, slaughtering hundreds of kingdom soldiers before they finally brought him down.
Legend spoke of Ryche as a boldly handsome man, but that did not bear true for the newly raised version of him. The warrior had been dead long enough that there should have been nothing more than bones.
Kyouin had somehow used the daenox to reverse the decaying process far enough that his prized warrior would not fall apart on impact. The muscles and other tissues were partially restored so the undead corruption could function as a fighter and his horse was similarly rebuilt. As grotesque as the pair was, Amahna found them fascinating. Ryche did not speak, which Kyouin said was probably due to the limits of his restoration, but the evil creation watched intently.
Amahna knew she was being watched now, as dusk set in, the deepening dark blurring the horror of Ryche’s countenance. She and Kyouin and his ever-present young shadow, Vaneye, were on a slightly higher rise in the landscape looking over the impressive army. Their horses shifted nervously in response to the fourth member, the undead Ryche, who had ridden up to them, stopping back and to the side of Amahna.
She tried not to give in to her nerves, but that gaze, like a cold, viscous fluid washing over her made her want to scream. The beast clicked its teeth every now and then, perhaps longing to say something. While Kyouin seemed undisturbed by the sound, Amahna began to wonder if she could listen to it much longer without losing her mind.
She diverted her attention to the task Theruses had given her. “So, Kyouin, where do you and your army go from here?”
Below them the daemon-dogs wandered amongst the human soldiers rather than the other daemons. Still tied more to people than to the power that infected them. The one that Amahna had been watching stopped moving and turned its head toward the forest as if it had heard something of interest. The reaction passed through the rest of the daemon animals in that part of the army.
“We might stay here long enough to inflict some losses on the ranks of the Legion. After that, I think we will move out to the east. There is a large village that way that I think we could take over with little disorder and perhaps use as a base for the human portion of our army. Then maybe I will think on what to do next.”
“I don’t buy that you are this disorganized. I think you know full well what you plan to do after that.”
Kyouin started to grin when his attention was drawn to the sudden clamor coming from the edge of the forest below and to the right of their survey point in the direction the daemon-dogs had been looking. Amidst a chaos of barks, howls, and unnatural cries two riders had plunged into the camp. Riders and mounts were plainly shocked at what they had stumbled upon, but the speed of their recovery hinted that there was more to their unexpected arrival than a wrong turn. With impressive agility the first mount leapt the fire in front of him and dodged around the nearest warrior.
The second mount was not so willing and reared up, twisting around the fire and plowing over the two warriors in its way as it finally bolted after the first. There was something familiar about the second rider, but her scrutiny was interrupted by the sudden swarm of Legion soldiers that flowed out of the trees into the daemon army after them. Kyouin giggled in an almost girlish manner and his warriors, who had been swiping half-heartedly at the first two riders, turned their full attention on the soldiers of Imperious. Even Ryche surged to life, leaving them at a gallop to go join the slaughter. Already frantic cries of retreat were spreading amongst the Legion ranks.
“That’s him.”
Kyouin’s tone drew her attention and she turned to see him pointing after the two escaping riders.
“That is the silver dragon your dragon-child spoke of.”
Amahna’s heart seemed to skip several beats as she peered through the dusk and campfire smoke and recognized the two riders.
Rakas was on the reluctant animal in the rear and on the magnificent white and black mount in the lead was someone she recognized too well. “Dephithus? It can’t be. I killed him.”
Next to her Kyouin broke into almost hysterical laughter and blurted out, “Well done.”
It seemed that Rakas would betray them after all. Given their location and direction of travel, she had little doubt that he was taking Dephithus to the cave to rescue his missing love and their child. Amahna trembled with rage and a deeper feeling that she recognized, with a burst of self-loathing, as fear. The first dragon-child was dead. She had watched him die and there was no reversing that, not without great cost and greater power. Even as she tried to deny what her eyes told her was true, she knew that this was somehow the work of the dragons and Dephithus was indeed alive.
“I have to stop them.”
Amahna kicked her mount hard in the ribs and spun the animal. The horse pulled up short from a forward lunge, slamming her up against the front of the saddle. Without her noticing, Ryche had returned to his master and placed his monstrosity of a mount in her path. Her own mount would go no closer to the undead creatures and the daemon-dogs that always flanked Kyouin and his brother had closed in on both sides of her.
“How impolite of you to try and leave so abruptly. Just like last time, if I recall correctly. Why would you leave now?
The fun has only just started.”
Carefully turning her mount enough to face Kyouin, Amahna fought down the swelling panic that threatened to burst from her chest. His eyes were not kind, not at all forgiving. There was no way she could destroy him and his pets before they got to her, especially with the undead Ryche there. “Don’t you realize that the dragons go free if Raine escapes?”
“Don’t worry. I’ll protect you from the big lizards.” He grinned.
Amahna noticed an unmistakable trace of madness in his smile then that reflected strong in his eyes. How could she not have acknowledged it before? It was unforgivable that she had not predicted as much. She had believed her status with Theruses would keep her safe, but nothing could protect against that which had no reason.
“If your arrogance doesn’t kill you, the dragons will,” she growled, suddenly more angry than afraid, though the anger was mostly with herself for allowing this to happen.
The daemon-dogs growled in response and Kyouin laughed, the sound rising up with the screams of Legion soldiers.
Long after the screams died down, Amahna could not fall asleep.
Dephithus and that traitorous bastard Rakas were riding toward the cave. Theruses needed to know. Better yet, she needed to stop them. But Kyouin’s undead warrior had not gone far from her side since he decided he was not going to let her go. Now Kyouin was walking toward her where she stood gazing out over his army. Her hand dropped instinctively to her belt. It came upon emptiness there, for Kyouin now wore the serpent dagger. That dagger had been a gift from Theruses. She had given it to Dephithus to torment him and took it back again when she killed him. She knew Kyouin would notice her looking at it, but the dagger was hers. He had no right to it.
Kyouin stopped in front of her, he fondled the hilt of the dagger very intentionally and Amahna looked up, making herself meet his haughty gaze. She gave him a cold scowl.
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