Dark God

by T C Southwell

  He shook his head. "I have things to do, and tomorrow will be too soon."

  "How long -"

  "Perhaps the day after."

  "But Mirra... Could you not bring her back now? Surely you have the strength for that."

  "She is in the room behind the altar of the Old Kingdom temple, where there are many runes on the walls. He will have set the runes to kill her the moment I enter it."

  "But she is immune to the dark power."

  Bane sighed, irritated. "I am aware of that. The runes will open an ancient channel to the Underworld, a Fetch that was put in place by those who built the temple, and she will be plunged into the deepest pit. Even she will not survive that."

  Ellese looked crestfallen. "Then how do you intend to rescue her?"

  Bane gazed at her, weighing his words before he spoke them. "I shall summon some demons. Arkonen will take her out of the room sooner or later, and they will be my spies."

  "Does the Black Lord not control all the demons?"

  "No. Only those he has summoned. They are not willing servants. Most are out sporting with humans."

  "Could you send one of them to -"

  "No. They cannot enter the room, and they cannot Move as I can. They must travel in their true form or go below and re-emerge, and they cannot take a mortal with them."

  Ellese slumped, then looked up again. "The Black Lord has snatched people from the Overworld many times. Can you do that?"

  "Of course." He put down the empty bowl. "But the runes in that room will react to my power and kill her. Also, Fetching only works from the Underworld. I would have to go below to do it, and then bring her here by Moving."

  "But if she leaves the room -"

  "He will be with her. It takes time to create a channel for a Fetch, and he will sense it. Then he will either try to block it, or kill her. If he tries to block it, she will be torn apart." Bane considered. "There is of course a Summoning. That would work."

  "So why not do that? Does it require a great deal of power?"

  "Yes. Summoning a mortal also requires a blood sacrifice."

  "Oh. I see. That is out of the question, of course." She frowned. "How do you know where she is being held? Are you also watching Arkonen?"

  "No. He would sense it if I did, as he can sense your eyes upon him. He can also block my Eye and your spying, that he chooses not to only shows that he wishes you to see what he is doing to her. I have no wish to see it, since I can do nothing to prevent it at the moment. I know him. I know what he will do."

  "So there is nothing you can do until you are ready to face him?"

  "No."

  "Did he use a Summoning to take her when she left the temple, when you were fighting him?"

  "Yes. He must have performed two sacrifices before the battle, one to summon the soldier he used to taunt me, the other to summon her as soon as she stepped off the hallowed ground. He planned it."

  "Poor Mirra." She sighed.

  Bane found his boots under the bed and pulled them on, then donned his shirt and stood a little unsteadily, reaching for his cloak. Ellese rose as he clipped it on.

  "Where are you going?"

  "To summon some demons."

  Elder Mother recoiled as he vanished with a soft inrush of air and a sickening surge of power.

  Bane reappeared in the midst of the army of dark folk that camped just beyond the forest, out of sight of the abbey. They were the ones who had bowed to him and received mercy, and they cowered at his sudden appearance, gibbering and moaning. He raked them with a hard glance, noting the glowing red eyes that watched him from the wood, where the dark creatures that had chosen to worship him hid.

  They had no need to stay in the forest's dimness any longer, but did so out of habit. There were no humans or gnomes amongst the dark folk. Evidently the hard, fast marches had weeded them out, along with the weaker non-humans. Those who remained were footsore and weary, thin and dirty, their gaunt faces filled with dull resignation and fear. Bane despised them more than ever, knowing the folly of their dark worship, but as long as they were loyal to him, he would make use of them.

  "Let your leaders come forth," he instructed.

  A troll, a rock howler and a goblin crept closer, and were joined by a dark creature from the woods, a grim. When they were assembled, he pointed at the abbey.

  "You will protect that place. Make your camp outside it, on the hallowed ground where demons cannot reach you."

  "Lord."

  The four bowed and retreated to relay his orders to the rest of the army. The dark folk doused their fires and gathered their few possessions. Bane wandered over to the nearest fire, whose owners scuttled away. The dark power whispered to him in answer to his need, and he spoke a harsh word of summoning, followed by a name. The flames leapt, streaked with sickly hues of green and violet. A ring of blackness spread from it, crisping the yellow grass to ash, the soil whining as it burnt. The fire swelled and roared up, seven feet tall, sprouting six arms as a demon formed within it. Three glowing yellow eyes opened in its head, and it stepped forth, bowing.

  "Demon Lord."

  "Jarabesh. Go to the Old Kingdom, to the temple where the Black Lord resides. Bring me news of the healer he keeps prisoner there. When he takes her from the rune room, return instantly and inform me. Do nothing else."

  The demon bowed and stepped back into the fire, shrinking as it mingled with the flames until it disappeared, returning to the Underworld to travel below to the Old Kingdom. Bane spoke the word of summoning again, followed by the name the dark power whispered to him. A second fire demon rose from the flames and stepped forth to bow to him.

  Bane eyed it. "Vanrayel. You will protect the Goddess' Temple, should the Black Lord's army return. You will harm no human, and do nothing else."

  The demon's eyes flared with palpable hatred, but it bowed again. "As you command, Demon Lord."

  Bane summoned two more fire demons, four earth demons and one air demon, issuing the same instructions to them. The dark folk hastened away towards the temple, casting fearful glances at the demons, eager to quit their proximity. As they received their instructions, the demons followed, taking up positions around the edge of the hallowed ground and speeding the army's retreat to its safety. The summoning tired Bane, and he decided that nine demons would have to do. He walked back to the edge of the holy ground, where he stopped and bowed his head, spreading his hands.

  Closing his eyes, he looked deep within the earth, finding slight weaknesses there, imperfections of soil and rock that he could use to ease his task. This was a power he had always possessed, no gift of the darkness, but something with which he had been born. At first it had been too slight to be useful, and had served merely to fill many hours with idle play. When Arkonen had ordered him to dig tunnels, he had tried to use it, but the demons set to guard him had punished him, forcing him to use his muscles instead. He took hold of a large chunk of the earth with his mind and pulled. A shiver went through the ground as rock and soil parted with a dull grating, and a section of the earth floated free, held by his mind.

  With a flick of thought, he sent it to a distant plain, where it formed a hill of settling debris. He bent and inscribed a rune in the air above the pit with a trickle of shadow, muttering several harsh words. The yawning abyss vanished, and an illusion of solid ground, identical to that which had been there before, replaced it. The shadow rune remained to mark the trap, invisible to mortal eyes.

  The demons watched him, knowing that the trap would capture them too if they strayed too close to it, and cost them a great deal of power to escape. It was not merely a pit and an illusion. It contained a spell that would suck any who came within its influence into its dark depths. The black fire within it would incinerate a mortal, and even a demon would be forced to flee to the Underworld before it was consumed. Bane walked along the edge of the hallowed ground, creating five more traps.

  Martal watched the approaching dark people with growing unease, his men
and some healers gathering behind him to stare at the shuffling host. He raised the spyglass, muttering under his breath when he spotted the demons beyond the hallowed ground, and, close to them, Bane. Ellese appeared at his elbow, making him jump and lower the glass.

  "What is that evil bastard doing?"

  Ellese took the spyglass and peered through it. "He is protecting the abbey. He must expect the Black Lord to send his army back when he is not here. You should be grateful, Martal. You know we cannot withstand another attack."

  The Baron grunted. "I hope you are right, but I dislike demons hanging around so close by. At least they cannot come any closer, but as for that lot..." He gestured at the dark horde. "I would not trust them as far as I could throw them."

  "I am sure Bane knows what he is doing."

  Martal jumped again when the Demon Lord appeared a few yards away, a chill running through him at the touch of Bane’s power. He looked exhausted again, and Ellese made a soft sound of annoyance.

  "Bane, you should be resting, not tiring yourself further."

  He frowned as he walked closer. "The Black Lord will attack this place again, either because he thinks me still injured, or because I will bring Mirra here. Either way, it must not fall. I will not be able to guard you all the time."

  "Surely he knows you have been healed?"

  "His spies can only report what they see. They have no way of knowing I am healed, only that I am still alive. He did not see what you did. He cannot Far See within hallowed ground."

  "You would have died within minutes from that wound."

  Bane shrugged. "He does not know that."

  Martal glared at him. "How do you know those bastards will not attack us as soon as you are gone?"

  "They serve me now." He glanced at the dark people, who were setting up a new camp on the yellow grass. "They would not dare."

  Martal blustered, but Bane walked away.

  Arkonen gazed around his new temple with a satisfied air and a slight smile. He had raised it from the reluctant earth in a matter of minutes, fulfilling a whim. Huge pillars of twisted stone upheld a vast domed roof, and the inner fire's ruddy glow filled the interior, shining through the cracks in the floor. Runes covered the pillars and walls, some glowing with dull red light, and arcane images writhed between them, serpentine and evil.

  "Much better," he muttered. "The destruction of the Overworld goes apace."

  "Your power knows no bounds, Lord," an attendant droge assured him.

  "But that damned human still lives."

  "Surely he cannot survive much longer, Lord? He now protects himself with demons and dark folk, so he must be too ill and weak to defend himself."

  "Yes." The Black Lord looked pensive. "Why would they ally themselves with one so weak?"

  "They are too stupid to know, Lord. He killed thousands when they attacked the temple."

  "That in itself is remarkable." He studied the droge. "You were once a priest. Is there any way those damned witches could have healed him?"

  "Not without power, Lord. Unless they still had some stored."

  "No." Arkonen shook his head. "They have been without sunlight for too long, and the battle would have used up all they had."

  "Then all they have is the Eternal Flame, and it cannot be used for healing."

  "Unless the Lady allowed them to, which she might, to save him."

  "That would be a great miracle."

  Arkonen grunted, frowning. "If he has been healed, he is only waiting until he has regained his strength. Then he will challenge me again."

  "He has no hope of defeating you, Lord."

  The Black Lord glared at the droge, who cowered. "I know that, fool. But I have no wish to be pestered by him in his stupid bid to save the Overworld. I will be rid of him. I must strike while he is still weak. The army must attack the temple. See to it."

  "At once, Lord." The droge bowed and ran off.

  Arkonen gazed around his temple again, basking in the dark power that poured from the cracks in the floor. The evil that filled it would consume any human who entered it in moments. He turned and strode out, heading for the old temple where the healer was housed.

  Chapter Ten

  Mercy

  A shriek of terror jerked Bane from his light doze, and he sat up to stare at the old healer who attended him. She cowered against the far wall, her eyes fixed on the window. Bane whipped around, following her gaze. A vampire clung to the ledge, a shadowy form against the black, roiling clouds. Bane swung his legs off the bed and faced the creature, which did its best to cower. The healer crept to the door and fled through it.

  "Lord," the vampire croaked, "a message from the demon Jarabesh. The healer has left the rune room."

  Bane nodded. "Return to your fellows."

  The vampire left with a rustle of leathery wings, and Bane closed his eyes, opening his mind to the Far See. The Old Kingdom temple filled his inner vision, and he swept his gaze across it. He expanded his view, spying a new temple whence columns of black smoke rose to foul the dark sky. Still, he found no sign of Mirra, even when the entire city was within his sight, and knew the Black Lord had taken her from it.

  Cursing, he searched for Arkonen, whose presence was like a beacon to the Far See. An image formed. The Black Lord stood upon a low hill, clad in a pseudo body Bane had seen him wear in the Underworld, an enhanced version of his former mortal form. Mirra stood beside him, his hand on her shoulder holding her there, her eyes wide and blank with horror and fear. Bane opened his eyes, rose and picked up his cloak.

  Ellese appeared in the doorway, raking him with a quick glance, and he frowned at her. She shook her head.

  "You cannot face him now. You said it yourself, you are too weak."

  "Do not presume to tell me what to do, old woman."

  "He will kill you."

  Bane clipped on his cloak. "If I do not go, he will kill her."

  "No, he will not." Ellese came closer, and more elder healers filled the doorway behind her. Bane wondered if they camped outside his door, waiting to accost him. "He will not kill her as long as he thinks he can use her against you," she said.

  "You wanted me to save her." He swayed as a wave of dizziness washed over him, a penalty for using the Far See when he was so weak.

  "I still do, but you can hardly stand. I thought you could save her without confronting him, but to do so now is madness. It is what he wants."

  "It is my choice."

  "No. The Overworld needs you to save it. If you throw away your life by falling into his trap we are all doomed. Mirra will be at his mercy. No one will be able to save her."

  Bane glared at her, knowing she was right and hating her for it. The sight of Mirra's suffering filled him with a fury that swept away common sense and good judgement, making a mockery of his plans. Ellese stepped closer and gripped his arm.

  "I will not allow you to do this."

  He scowled at her, trying to yank his arm free. "You cannot stop me."

  Ellese hung on, jerking her head at the women in the doorway. "We can. You cannot Move as long as we hold you, not without taking us with you, and that, I would guess, would use a great deal of power."

  Bane glowered at Ellese as the healers approached, and tried to avoid the two who took hold of his other arm. Others held onto them, forming a chain of hard-faced women that went right out of the door, and some of them held onto the walls or other fixtures, effectively anchoring him to the ground.

  "You forget who I am. I could reduce you all to ash."

  "But you will not. We do this for your sake as well as Mirra's, for the sake of the Overworld and all who dwell in it. We intend to save it all, and for that, we need you."

  "Release me."

  "No."

  The Demon Lord's eyes frosted, and Ellese feared that he would indeed incinerate them, so furious did he look. Many of the women bowed their heads when he raked them with a wrathful glance. He turned his attention to Ellese once more, and his eyes narr
owed, promising punishment for their temerity. She became aware that the temperature in the room had dropped, making the healers shiver with cold and fear. She sensed what he was about to do and dreaded it, praying she would have the strength to hang on. A surge of dark power made the healers moan and gag, and the two who clung to his arm whimpered, one sinking to her knees. Although her stomach clenched, threatening to hurl her breakfast at the back of her teeth, Ellese held on.

  "Do not do this."

  "Then release me."

  "No." She gritted her teeth as he let more shadows seep from him, and her stomach heaved. He was doing what she had taught him upon the chapel's altar, letting the dark power flow out, unfocussed but controlled. It did no harm, other than to nauseate the healers and fill the room with frigid shadows that seeped into the floor. As a deterrent to being in his proximity, however, it was extremely effective. Several healers gave despairing cries and dashed out, unable to stand it any longer. One of the women who held his other arm collapsed, retching, and an older, more resolute woman took her place, ignoring Bane's furious glare. He increased the power still more, and Ellese's hands became numb, her stomach a tight knot.

  Two more healers fled, and the rest struggled against the terrible nausea, many doubled over, their faces pale. The pain went beyond mere sickness. It burnt Ellese’s flesh as if fire ran in her blood, the dark power invading her with its foulness. The women who held his other arm could stand no more and let go, staggering away. Bane cast Ellese an angry, triumphant smile as he jerked his arm from her weakened grip, striding out of the door. She slumped with relief as the evil power vanished with him, then gathered her strength and hurried after him, leaving her sisters to console each other and recover from their ordeal.

  Ellese caught up with Bane on one of the many balconies that gave a view of the surrounding countryside. Usually it was a pleasant vista, but now she could hardly bear to look at the dying land. In the distance, a formerly peaceful snow-capped peak belched lava and black smoke, lighting the dark clouds with its red glare. Grey ash drifted down, blanketing the ground in a funeral shroud. Bane stared out at it, his gaze fixed on the place where the angry clouds seemed to touch the ground. Lightning pounded the earth there in an almost constant barrage, the thunder reaching them seconds later, deep booms and roars that shook the ground and rattled the abbey's windows.