"Mother, the monsters are upon us."
Ellese nodded and glanced at Bane, who had opened his eyes at the acolyte's words. He swung his legs off the bed and levered himself upright, paling with the effort.
"Bring me my clothes."
Ellese handed him a fresh shirt, which he donned, tucking it into the trousers he had slept in, then found his boots under the bed. When he had pulled them on, she held out his cloak, and he clipped it on. His first attempt to stand failed, and he sank back down, looking furious. Ellese went over and tried to help him, but he shook her off.
"I can do it."
Ellese glanced at the bevy of healers that now filled the doorway, watching Bane with deep concern. On his second attempt, he rose to his feet and stood swaying for a moment before his knees gave way. Ellese rushed to help him up, ignored his attempts to shake her off and gestured to the healers to help her. One took his other arm, and, between them, they lifted him to his feet and walked with him to the door, his knees buckling with every stride.
The rest of the healers followed as they half carried, half dragged him through the temple. The wounded soldiers who lay in the halls watched the little procession pass with incredulous expressions. An Elder Mother brought the bottle of tonic and attempted to give Bane some when they paused for a brief rest in a doorway. He snarled at her, making her recoil from the faint surge of dark power that emanated from him. It surprised Ellese, but not a lot, for Bane was in a foul temper indeed, and it was just as well to remind the healers of who and what he was. They were becoming immured to his presence, and it was not a good idea to take liberties with the Demon Lord, no matter how bad his health.
Martal was in the inner garden, where his men guarded the hastily barricaded gates, looking resigned to their fate. Ellese stopped by the fountain, intending to let Bane sit on its edge, but he shook his head. Martal stared at him with a mixture of hatred and disbelief.
"Take me outside," Bane said.
"You cannot stand alone."
"It does not matter."
Martal walked closer, eyeing Bane. "Is he going to be any use to us in this state?"
"Watch, if you have the courage," Bane said.
"Open the gates," Ellese gasped, bowing under his weight.
Martal shouted the order, and his men pulled aside the barricade of overturned handcarts and bags of grain. The healers staggered towards it, Bane unable to do more than move his legs. Outside the temple walls, the army of dark creatures blackened the land to the distant forests, shuffling closer. When Bane emerged, they gibbered and howled, but most held their ground, only a few moved away furtively. The reason for their bravery stood beyond the hallowed ground, five earth demons ready to crush any who dared to flee.
"Put me down," Bane instructed when they were about two hundred yards from the temple.
Ellese and her helper lowered him to his knees, and he sank back on his haunches. She straightened and eyed the massed monsters, her heart quailing.
"Go back inside the temple," Bane ordered.
Beyond the host, the demons bent and struck the ground with their fists, sending deep, booming reverberations through the earth. The horde howled, the goading galvanising them and terror driving them to attack. Ellese hesitated, loath to leave Bane alone in the midst of this snarling throng, where it seemed certain that he would be torn apart. How could even he hope to defeat so many?
With a roar, the Black Lord's army charged, and Bane shouted, "Go! Now!"
Ellese fled, her helper taking her arm and dragging her along, crying out in fear. As they reached the abbey, Ellese turned to look back, her stomach churning. Bane knelt, a small, solitary figure before the charging masses, his cloak flaring in the cold wind. He waited until the dark army was about two hundred yards away, then raised his arms and spread his hands. Black fire poured from his palms in twin rivers of darkness that struck the horde's leaders as he swept it across their ranks. Those it touched either burst into flames or exploded in showers of gore, dying with brief, agonised shrieks.
Bane turned, guiding the searing conduits to raze hundreds of goblins, trolls and rock howlers. Dark creatures quit the shelter of the wood and charged into the fray. Vampires took wing and swooped down to try to rend him with teeth and claws. Their terror of the Black Lord, who had promised them death if they failed, overwhelmed their fear of Bane. This proved to be well founded, however, for as fiery comets they plummeted from the sky, their screams mingling with the cries of those who perished on the ground in ever-increasing numbers.
The stench of burning flesh and torn entrails hit Ellese in a wall of foulness. Combined with the illness the dark power brought, it made her stomach heave. Martal watched the slaughter with wide eyes, looking pale and sick.
"Goddess!"
The demons pounded the ground, urging the army on, promising death to any who fled. The mangled, burning corpses piled up all around Bane, forming a low wall of dead. Within the circle of carnage, the Demon Lord guided the power with negligent waves of his hands.
Bane's stores of dark power dwindled as he hurled it from him in waves of burning, deadly shadow, unable to Gather while he was so weak. Gathering drained his strength, and, at this moment, he did not have much of that. A troll in the front ranks fell to his knees and prostrated himself in abject worship, and Bane spared him, letting the fire skip over him to his neighbour.
Others noticed the cowering, unharmed troll, and followed his example, receiving the same treatment. Soon hundreds of dark folk were prostrated on the ground, and many of the creatures of darkness assumed similar poses and received mercy. The tide of the battle turned, and the demons beyond the hallowed ground vanished into the earth one by one. As soon as the last one left, the remainder of the horde fled, those who had been spared racing after them.
The Demon Lord sent the dark fire in pursuit, goading them to greater efforts as he picked off stragglers who had not bowed to him, sending them to their deaths with explosions of fire and despairing screams. When the last of them vanished into the woods or over the distant hills, he let the dark power die, leashing the remainder into his bones. His arms fell to his sides and his head bowed in utter exhaustion, then he slumped to the ground.
Ellese gave a cry of anguish and ran to him, four soldiers carrying a stretcher overtaking her. When she reached him, they had lifted him onto it, and he lay like one dead. She walked beside him as they carried him back to the abbey, keeping her gaze on his face to avoid looking at the mounds of dead that lay all around the place where he had been. Martal waited at the gates, and took her arm when she seemed ready to drop from weariness and stress. They followed the stretcher into the temple, where Bane was once more laid on the bed in his room. As the soldiers left, Martal shook his head in amazement.
"What did he need an army for?"
Ellese forced a brittle smile and sank down on the chair. "He was ill when he rose from the Underworld. Using so much power then would have led to his death before he broke the wards. Also, he was vulnerable to assassins who might have shot him from afar. The army was there to protect him. That is why he always camped in the middle of it. He also had to sleep. For all his powers, he can be killed as easily as any other mortal... well, almost."
"And now that he is healed, he has unlimited power?"
"He will need it to fight the Black Lord."
"And afterwards? You do realise that he could rule this world, and no one could stand against him."
Bane snorted softly, a faint smile curling his lips.
Ellese gazed at him. "Yes, he could."
"So, by healing him, you have given him this option. Otherwise he would have died at the seventh ward, correct?"
She nodded. "That is right, and we would be at the Black Lord's mercy now."
"So, instead, we may end up being ruled by the Demon Lord, and who is to say he will be any better?"
"Martal," Bane muttered, "go and jump in the cesspit."
The Baron reddened and stepped t
owards the bed, then thought better of it and turned back to Ellese. "You do see what you have done, do you not? You had a wolf in the hen house, so you put another wolf in to kill the first, but you will still end up with a wolf eating your chickens."
She smiled serenely. "Except that the second wolf does not eat chickens."
Bane chuckled.
Martal shot him a glare. "How can you be sure of that? Even if he does not now, he may develop an appetite for them in the future."
"He will not, because he is both a wolf, and a chicken."
Bane laughed softly again, making Martal frown.
He looked thoughtful. "Unless of course, you get rid of the second wolf when he has finished off the first, which, since he is really a chicken, would not be too hard."
Bane growled, "Martal, if you are going to plot my death, at least do it where I cannot hear you."
Ellese gave the portly Baron a reproachful look. "No one will harm Bane."
"You are taking a big risk, Ellese."
"I do not share your view."
"Did you see what he just did out there?"
"Yes, he protected us."
Martal snorted. "He protected himself. He was the one they came here to kill."
She sighed. "Let me explain something to you, Baron. The Black Lord thought Bane was on the brink of death. He had no idea we had healed him. He thought his army would be able to kill Bane while he was too weak to defend himself or escape. But, since he has been healed, Bane is quite capable of using the dark power to Move instantly to another place. He did not have to protect the abbey."
"Unless he needs you to care for him while he recuperates."
"He does not," Ellese and Bane said in unison.
"He needed you to heal him when he came here."
Bane opened his eyes and raised an arm, pointing a finger at Martal, who stiffened, raising his chin in a show of bravado. A faint frisson of dark power chilled the room, and Ellese cast a worried glance at the Demon Lord.
"Get out," he said.
Martal hesitated, frowning, then stomped out. Ellese relaxed as the chilling power vanished, and Bane's arm dropped to his side, his eyes closing once more.
"He is afraid of you," she assured him again in an attempt to soothe his anger at Martal's ill-advised words.
"He should be. If he keeps goading me, he may rue it."
"I know you will not harm him."
"Then you know more than I."
She smiled. "Perhaps I do."
Mirra stood beside the fireplace in the room behind the altar that she had shared with Bane, wondering what lay in store for her next. She had her suspicions, based on the foul exhibition she had witnessed, and they did not bear thinking about. Two female droges had brought her here and left sniggering, which added to her trepidation. Many of the runes on the walls glowed, but not the same ones Bane had used, and she wondered what function they served.
The door opened, and the Black Lord entered, clad in a bright blue, silver-patterned shirt and crimson breeches. Whatever his ideas of beauty were, his dress sense was distinctly lacking. He smiled and wandered over to her, glancing at the silken bed. Stopping before her, he let his eyes roam over her in a sickening manner, a leer twisting his lips.
"So, now it is time for the next entertainment of the evening. I trust you have been looking forward to it?"
Deciding that this was not the time to keep silent, she raised her chin. "Why should I?"
He chuckled. "Why indeed? You have no idea of the pleasures of the flesh, do you, little maid?"
"Why would you wish to give me pleasure?"
"Ah! A good point. In fact, I doubt you will enjoy it all that much, do not worry. And tomorrow you will hate yourself. I was of course referring to my pleasure. Yours will be tainted by that puritanical little mind of yours. However, such pursuits as I have planned open the body and mind to the dark power, and will speed your corruption. Your immunity is indeed strong. That which caused the slight transformation of your arm would have utterly changed a normal human within a few seconds. This will speed it greatly."
Arkonen walked over to a table covered with platters of roast meat and vegetables and picked up a bottle of wine, pouring two cups. He returned to her and held one out. "Drink it."
Mirra took it and tossed it into the fire.
He sighed, sipping his own. "You plan to be tiresome, then. I do not enjoy reluctance or even defiance, contrary to popular folklore. I like my women willing, and none can resist me, I assure you, not even you."
"You think you can seduce me?"
"I know I can. The dark power aids me, and I am the handsomest man you have ever seen, am I not?"
"No. Bane surpasses you."
"Rubbish!" His eyes narrowed. "A lie, healer? The Lady will punish you."
"No, it is not a lie. Many people would think you handsomer, but to me, he is the most beautiful man in the world. Also, he is alive, while you are long since dead, and should have stayed in the Land of the Dead. You revolt me."
He frowned. "That is unfortunate. But the body is a fickle ally to the mind, girl. It can be made to enjoy what the mind does not. The human women who were brought to my bed in the Underworld learnt to enjoy my touch, though they feared me."
"You corrupted them with your foulness. It does not work on me."
"Not yet, but in time it will, when your body has been opened to it."
"Bane will come for me."
Arkonen laughed. "Your precious Bane is too badly injured to challenge me now. If he is stupid enough to come here, I will kill him. But he will not, because he cares naught for you. Has he ever shown you any sign of affection? Has he ever looked upon you kindly, even once? No.
"He cannot, and he never will. I made him what he is. Do you think I would allow him to be swayed by weak emotions? Your imagination has played tricks on you if you thought he felt something more for you than curiosity, and he used your weakness to survive. You are nothing but a silly little girl, so you can give up your idiotic dream that he will rescue you. Come." He put down his wine cup and held out a hand. "Enough foolishness; let us begin."
Mirra backed away, but he closed the gap in two strides and grabbed her wrist, yanking her close. She sensed almost no evil from him. Evidently he had leashed it well, knowing its nauseating effect on humans. Her reaction to his proximity and intentions was immediate and instinctive, however. She raised her free hand and raked her fingernails down his face. The pseudo flesh tore like putty, leaving bloodless furrows in its substance. He recoiled with a curse, then slapped her hard enough to make her gasp, tears stinging her eyes. The furrows vanished, and he glared at her, his expression furious.
"Violence, healer? Your kind takes an oath to do no harm. You break your Lady's laws."
She clutched her burning cheek. "We do no harm to the living."
"You would do well to apply that oath to me, or your life will become forfeit."
"I do not fear death. It would be preferable to what you have planned for me." Mirra quailed inwardly as she spoke the words.
"I will kill you in good time, when your soul belongs to me. Then perhaps I will grant you a droge body so you may continue to serve me."
"My soul belongs to the Lady, and she will never release it into your foul keeping."
"We will see about that. Many of the women who were brought to me spoke those exact words, but they all learnt to worship me."
"I am a healer."
He smiled. "A pleasant challenge."
Arkonen lunged for her and grabbed her wrists, pushed her against the wall and pinned her there. Terror and loathing swamped her, and she struggled ferociously, kicking him in the shins with all her might. He growled and pinned her legs with his own, pressing her hard against the wall. Her struggles clearly annoyed him, but he persevered, trapping her wrists with one hand so he could caress her with the other.
"Relax; it will be so much easier." His soft, seductive voice made her shudder.
"Your touch sickens me."
"Resistance is foolish."
As his hand slid up her neck to cup her cheek, she turned her head and sank her teeth into it. He snatched it away, leaving a chunk of it in her mouth, which she spat out with a grimace of disgust. He released her and stepped back to rub the injury, restoring it. His eyes met hers, the red glow flaring in their depths.
"Evidently other methods are necessary. But beware; there are worse fates than becoming my chattel, even than death. You would do well to remember who I am."
"A vile, long-dead Underworld monster."
His fist hit her jaw and knocked her into the wall. Everything went black.
The Demon Lord woke from a deep, exhausted sleep, and opened his eyes to find a strange elder healer watching him. She rose and went out, returning a few minutes later with a bowl of porridge and Elder Mother. Ellese smiled when he sat up to eat, clearly pleased that he looked more rested, his colour improved. She dismissed the healer and settled on the chair beside him.
"How are you feeling?"
"Not strong enough to do battle with the Black Lord yet."
Her smile became strained. "Mirra still lives."
"You have been spying on Arkonen?"
"Yes."
"A dangerous pastime, now that the wards no longer bind him below."
"It was worth the risk."
He shook his head. "I do not recommend it."
"I had to find out if she was all right."
"I could have told you that she is still alive, but I assure you, she is not all right."
"No." She looked down at her clasped hands. "He has abused her."
"He will try to corrupt her, but he will not kill her as long as he knows I am still alive."
"Can you save her?"
He shot her a sharp glance, then continued to eat his porridge.
Ellese bit her lip. "Of course you can, stupid question. I am just concerned about her. She is like a daughter to me. But he cannot corrupt her. She has the power to resist him." Bane ignored her, and she changed the subject. "You must rest today, regain your strength. Perhaps tomorrow..."
Dark God Page 17