by Curtis, Greg
But the same was true of all of Lion's Crest. In fact, of all of the five kingdoms. There was no set style of design anywhere, whether it be a house, a temple or a castle. When the five kingdoms had first started to be settled a thousand to two thousand years before, artisans had come from all over the world to make their homes and start their businesses, and they all had different ideas of what a building should look like.
The temple's design had come from the far off lands known only as the Hellenic Isles. Some said they no longer existed. Others claimed that they had never existed. But it was from them that the pantheon of gods and the written language had come, not to mention the architecture of columns and lintels.
His castle had been built with the design ethic of the Teutonic peoples, another people from a far off land. And where the temple builders had favoured columns, friezes and delicate domes, the Teutonic had preferred massive square shaped walls of stone and solid buttresses. But then they were a brutal people. Their buildings were brutal and so were their gods. Was it any wonder then that the castle seemed ready to stand in battle against an army? The only exception to the sheer physical brutishness of the castle was in the massive arched windows.
Not far away was the city prison a ziggurat temple that had been converted to his needs after Terellion had taken the throne. Massive Romanesque aqueducts built of red brick ran overhead while sewers carried the waste to and from the city. The streets were cobbled in places, paved in parts, and bare dirt everywhere else. Some were narrow, some wide. Some were straight and some curved.
Every city in the five kingdoms was the same – a mix of designs and building materials. Wooden weather boards, rough hewn logs and brick stood side by side with mud and stone. Sharp angles and triangular roofs stood next to rounded walls and flat roofs. Even domes were popular, though none were as large as those of the Huntress' Great Temple. It gave the city a jumbled feel. As though it had never been planned. Which of course, it hadn't been. The city had slowly built up over the centuries as people had arrived from the different lands. But it also added something. Something creative and free; wild and fresh. It still had that something. Even after the terrible damage the attack had done to the city.
The Great Temple was in fact one of the reasons the Circle had first decided to take Artemis' following for their own. It was in the heart of Lion's Crest. It could conceal those who dwelt within from the rest of the city. And it could be defended if the need arose. As he approached, Terellion could see some of those defenders standing on the edge of the plinth looking out over the rest of the city, crossbows in hand. They should have been longbows, the traditional weapon of the Goddess, but when you hired mercenaries and most of them were skilled only with the crossbow, you had to settle. It was enough that they'd found enough uniforms of the original temple guards who'd fallen to dress them up as them.
The other main reason they'd chosen to take Artemis' temple from her was the Goddess herself. Though she was well liked as a goddess, she was not one of the most powerful. That was important when they'd had to break divine law in the case of whichever god or goddess' identity they assumed. With the other gods they didn't have to. Killing the priests and destroying the temples was not a breach of divine law. As long as the Circle didn't try to deny the existence of the gods, distort what they stood for, or prevent followers from praying to them they were fine. But with Artemis they'd had to destroy her name as well. That was part of using her as a scape goat. She would be angry. But whether she could persuade one of the more powerful gods to her cause was doubtful. Either Zeus flinging his lightning bolts their way or Nemesis unleashing his divine vengeance on them would have been a disaster. But that hadn't happened. The people could still pray to Artemis – few would of course – and her teachings hadn't been changed. It was just that they would blame her for what wasn't her doing.
Artemis had also been useful because of her nature. She was known to descend to the world from time to time simply to hunt. So for her to have descended this time for a longer period would be easily believed by the masses. Many of the other gods of the pantheon did not descend.
To add to that she was a huntress. Her followers, her priests and her guards were expected to be armed, which explained why the false temples they could build in her name could be homes to soldiers. No one seemed to notice that her guards now carried swords instead of longbows and hunting knives. The other gods and goddesses often did not have armed defenders. Hera's followers for example wandered the city without so much as a knife on them. Of course some Gods did actually have soldiers. Ares' followers for example were all heavily armed and well trained – especially the priests. After all he was the God of War. If they had taken his name that would have made things difficult when they had first had to take the temple. And they'd always had to. From the very start they'd needed the people to know that the chimera came from the temple of one god or another.
As a huntress Artemis also used hounds. Thus the chimera – no matter how twisted they were – could also be explained away as hounds of one sort or another. Traditionally the Goddess would have ridden a unicorn and been accompanied by griffins, but the chimera were close enough.
In the early days after the attack, convincing people that the Goddess had descended to the world on a great hunt had been important. At least until they had finally overcome the five kingdoms. And she had been the perfect scapegoat. Now, though they continued the lie, it didn't matter so much. The surviving people were so broken that they would believe anything they were told. Or more likely they simply didn't care enough to believe or disbelieve. They just obeyed without question. Even if some of them might have suspected it was all a lie, they obeyed.
None though he guessed, suspected the truth. That none of the current priests who to all intents followed Artemis, who wore her robes and stood in her temple, were in fact priests at all. That they were in fact thralls, their lives bound in service to the demon king. If they had guessed a few more of those that remained in Lion's Crest would have fled. As it was there were very few people left in the city. A few – a very few – survivors from the attack remained, some civilians he'd brought in to fix up some of the mess that had been left behind and to serve him, and after that mainly soldiers and wizards. All up perhaps thirty thousand people now called Lion's Crest home.
As Terellion slowly ascended the hundred paces of steps leading to the plinth on which the temple stood, he could see the leader of those thralls standing there in front of the huge wooden doors leading into the temple itself where the gate stood. Varrious, the first thrall of Xin.
As a man he wasn't that impressive. He was about thirty years of age, which was actually a good age for one of his calling – they tended to die young and of unnatural causes. He was also clearly no warrior of any sort. In fact he had the physique of a wizard, even though he had no magic of his own. What he had were charms of command that his master Xin had given him to control the chimera. Without them the chimera would have simply run wild, unable to be controlled by anyone. Not even by wizards. For since they hadn't been summoned in the first place, summoners like Terellion couldn't control them. And though most of them had human flesh at least in part, none of them had the minds of humans. So Terellion's own magic of the mind would not work on them either.
That was the demon king's intent of course. His part of the deal. The chimera were part of his army and he was not about to let them be controlled by anyone other than his thralls. Not even by his wizard allies. Especially not by them. So through that simple device the demon king had made himself and his thralls indispensable. Even if Terellion had wanted to get rid of the demon king's thralls and go back on Xin's deal, he couldn't.
“Varrious.”
Terellion addressed the first thrall once he made the top of the steps and stood in front of him. He even managed to do so respectfully, though he didn't like the man at all. Varrious was always untrustworthy, a shady character with a private agenda in Terellion's view. A man he would ha
ve very much liked to have taken direct control of through his magic. But he didn't dare. Although the thralls of Xin had no real ranks like priests or soldiers, Varrious was the one who seemed to lead them. He was closest to the demon king. And if any trace of Terellion's touch had been noticed the demon king might have seen and guessed what he could do. Hiding his magic of the mind was the single greatest protection Terellion could devise.
Terellion was also annoyed that he still had no idea why the demon king wanted the High Priestess brought to him. Odinne had told him everything she knew, but that had turned out to be nothing. She really was just another worthless woman. They had their place, tending to the men, cleaning their homes and warming their beds, but anything more than that seemed wrong to him. In fact he would have cheerfully killed her if she were not an ally.
“Terellion.”
Varrious never called him “Sir” as did the others, and that annoyed Terellion. The man was no Circle wizard. He was no one of any great importance. He had no great magic or learning behind him, no title or nobility. Who was he to address him by name? As if they were equals!
On the other hand he did serve one useful purpose. He acted as the intermediary between him and Xin.
Terellion had only ever spoken directly with Xin twice. Once when the deal had been struck and a second time two years later when the time had come to seal the deal with a binding spell and then begin the invasion. He never wanted to do that again. Even through the limited contact they had had, speaking across a portal where the vision was cloudy, he had seen enough to know that Xin was a truly frightening being. Powerful beyond what any human could be.
Physically he might be human in shape, massive of course and far too broad of shoulder, but that was the least of him. Under his dragon scale armour Terellion knew, the demon king was pure demon. Skin of pure green and covered in slime like some sort of sickly frog. Obsidian black eyes. And power beyond that of any mortal. He was not a god, but he was the next thing to one. A foul god. Maybe that was why the gods had forced him and his kind to live in Tartarus – the lowest level of the underworld.
“Inform your master that the High Priestess is on her way and payment as agreed upon is expected.”
“I shall and it will be paid – on delivery.”
The man gave a tiny nod of acknowledgement. The bare minimum he could get away with without being rude. It angered Terellion though he tried not to show it.
“And tell him too that we will need more beasts as our armies march on the dryads. Already some of the soldiers report the pens in the temples are thinning as too many beasts are drawn into the army. Our numbers are being stretched and we are vulnerable.”
And that was a problem. Many of the temples had been emptied out of most of their war beasts and soldiers, and those that remained were just enough to control the people. If a threat arose he worried that they might not be sufficient to the task.
“Vulnerable to whom?” The man smiled condescendingly at him as if he were some sort of slow witted child who needed to have something obvious explained to him. “There is no one left to fight us in the five kingdoms. The people are broken. All that remain are the outcasts, and they spend their days running and being hunted. They are no threat.”
“So you say. But do you say it because you truly believe it or is your master running too low on chimera to be able to send any to us?”
Terellion suspected it was the latter. Xin had sent through the bulk of his army at the start, and what he had left in reserve was limited. Especially when his position as king was tenuous and he needed his armies to support him. Rule among the demons was little short of open warfare. Demons vied with one another, and their methods of battle were usually bloody and violent involving assassination, warfare and torture. All were accepted methods of getting ahead in the demon realm. In fact they were the only accepted methods. There was a reason that Xin wore dragon scale armour all the time.
“You need not doubt my master's power Terellion.” Varrious smiled broadly at him, a gesture designed to impress him with its confidence. It didn't. “Whatever you need he can provide – for a price.”
“And yet I notice you are not walking your pet Varrious. Is she perhaps unwell? Overworked because there are so few of her kind?”
Terellion mentioned the pet mainly because he knew it would upset the miserable thrall. For all the charms he had been given to control her the man was still nervous of the fury he had charge of. He soon saw the man's feigned confidence slip a little and took a little pleasure in it.
“Resting in her cage as is normal for her kind. There seems little need for my master's winged assassins at present.”
“Need?” Terellion stared at him evenly. “Surely to have such a magnificent creature beside you is not something you would only desire out of need. Or does she frighten you?”
It was more than just something he said to fluster the thrall – though it did just that and he was pleased by the reaction. But over the years as the furies had proven their worth and torn through his enemies, he had come to admire them. They were magnificent. The finest of all the chimera, and nothing at all like their diseased cousins the harpies. They were clean and graceful, deadly and terrifying, but also seductive and exotic. They might only be animals but in them he thought he could see value, which was not something he had ever seen in a human woman. Weak men like Varrious feared them. Not strong men. Not him.
“She doesn't frighten me.” Varrious denied it, but Terellion saw through his lie. And he immediately knew how to take advantage of it.
“Good, then have the furies paraded through the streets regularly. It does the soldiers good to see them. Keeps them in line. And when you come to see me next, bring your pet. She can use the exercise and the sunshine.”
“I will Terellion.”
Varrious didn't seem happy with the idea. But Terellion was. He quite liked Varrious' pet. Even among her kind she stood out. Taller of limb, more graceful in her womanly curves, and with a golden brown colouration. One day he thought, when he had his immortality, when he was young and vital again and no longer had to fear her viper bite, he would try out a few of them. After all there were only so many pathetic, docile wenches a man could abide. And he had been bedding them since he was twelve. Sometimes you wanted a little variety in the bedchamber. Something that might actually try and say no. That might resist him. Besides, they came with no angry husbands he would likely have to kill.
Husbands were an annoyance, and after a while it had become obvious to him even as a child that the number of them killing themselves in inexplicable accidents was drawing attention. That was when he'd first started hiding his magic. Just in case someone did work out what he could do and then came for him. Even at twelve or thirteen he'd known that others would be angry with him if they knew. And even with his magic he couldn't fight everyone.
It was a fact of life that no one, not even the most powerful wizard, was invulnerable. A master of fire could be killed by a man with an arrow or an assassin in the night. A master of summoning could be killed in a heartbeat by a fireball. And even he, able to control armies with a few simple words, could be killed by anyone who realised his ability and prepared accordingly.
It was because of that that he'd first started limiting himself. Keeping a private herd of women in his mansion instead of going out and bedding new ones every day. It was a little less interesting, but after a while he'd realised that women were just that – less interesting. And after the first few hundred or so he'd understood that one woman was much the same as another. They were all just whores. Good for bedding but after that you really just wanted them gone.
Currently he had a stable of about thirty whores, and were it not for his enfeeblement, he would have been perfectly happy just riding them. Getting rid of them when they got old or their bellies started bulging and replacing them with newer ones of course. But more than that he didn't need. He wasn't greedy. Of course once he had his immortality – once he was a
s hungry and potent again as he had been as a teenager – then he might need a few more.
But the one thing he wouldn't need he decided as he left the temple, was Varrious. The man would die and die horribly when the time came.
Still, not yet. For the moment the man was useful. And Terellion had done what he needed to do. Given him word of the High Priestess' arrival and made the deal. Varrious would tell his master. And in time Terellion would receive the next clue in the translation of the ancient stone tablet. A few more rare ingredients to cast the spells. Step by step his immortality was coming closer.
That had to be enough for the moment.
Chapter Four
The sound of someone carefully forcing his way through the trees was the first thing that told Harl his home was no longer the secure hideaway it had been. And that annoyed him. Even more than it scared him it annoyed him. This was his home. He didn't know who was coming – it could be a friend or a foe – more likely it was neither, just a beast – but the one thing he didn't want was people knowing where he lived. He didn't even tell the other outcasts he had dealings with. It was only a short step from someone knowing, to everyone knowing. And then sooner or later Artemis' beastly armies would be on him and he'd have to flee again. He didn't want to flee. Not now.