The Star Of Saree (GODS OF THE FOREVER SEA Book 3)

by A. J. STRICKLER

  “I am here to offer you one of two things, husband: my love or my head.”

  “Both are already mine,” he growled.

  “You can take one. The other I must give.”

  “I can take both.”

  “Only you would think that,” she said, putting her hand on her hip seductively.

  “I thought the great Queen of Hell, bane of mankind, Mistress of Death, hated me?”

  “Things have changed.”

  “Yes, I have returned and you are afraid.”

  She said nothing as he slowly came to his feet. Grabbing her by the back of her head, the dark god kissed her violently. His huge hands tore the dress from her shapely body. She had forgotten how much she missed being ravished by him. They ripped into each other like hungry lions, her nimble fingers aiding him with the straps of his armor.

  His hot mouth found her breasts as his meaty hands cupped the curve of her buttocks. She cried out as he thrust himself inside her. Waves of euphoria exploded through her body as the death god took her. Deep moans escaped her ruby lips as he sat down in his throne and placed her atop of his manhood. The goddess forgot she was the Mistress, the dreaded Queen of Hell. She became Amaris, eldest daughter to the king of darkness, wife to her brother, the prince. Surges of ecstasy racked her body and her legs trembled with their frenzied lovemaking. Her husband wanted her once more, which was all that mattered.

  She lost track of time. How long they had made love was a mystery to her. When the Lord of Death finally released himself into her, the Mistress could only whimper.

  Sliding from his lap, she lay down before the throne on the dark grass, her shapely legs still quivering with the ferocity of their reunion. Octavian stood above her, his dark hair hanging wet with sweat, as his eyes took in her nakedness. He reached down and pulled her to her feet, encircling her with his huge arms. With their bodies pressed together, she could feel the dark shroud that had covered her heart for so long begin to lift, long-suppressed emotions filling it once more.

  “You love me again?” she whispered.

  “I have always loved you, Amaris.” His massive hand shot out and grabbed her by the throat. “But I don’t forgive you.”

  He dragged her to the trunk of the tree.

  “By all that’s sacred, please don’t do this,” she screamed, her naked body bucking and flailing wildly.

  “You betrayed me, my love. You meant to leave me imprisoned for an eternity. What is worse, you led our daughter to do the same. You are poison, Amaris, and so is your love. Now you will suffer for your crimes.” He slammed her against the colossal tree, the impact nearly making her lose consciousness. Twisted black branches reached down like the claws of a monster. Wrapping around her wrists and ankles, the powerful limbs lifted her midway up its black trunk.

  “Octavian, do not do this, I beg you.” The branches pulled her arms and legs apart, jerking her tight against the tree’s rough bark.

  He had tricked her and shattered her heart again. Red rage swelled in every part of her body. “I swear you will live to regret this, Reaper. I will have my vengeance,” she screamed, slobber flying from her lips.

  “Now you sound like the goddess I married,” Octavian said, looking up at her with a wicked grin.

  She cried out in agony as large thorns sprang through her hands and feet from the tree’s ghastly trunk. Her black blood ran free, only to be absorbed by the rotten bark to feed the vulgar evil Octavian had created.

  Three mottled serpents rose up from the dead grass around the Lord of Death’s feet, their long bodies slithering up the tree towards her.

  “Damn you, brother. Damn you to the cold waters of the Forever Sea,” she hissed.

  “Save your breath, dear wife. You will need it to fuel your screams.”

  The three serpents squirmed up the tree. Reaching her feet, two of them wrapped around the Mistress’s legs, burrowing in and out of her flesh. The third slithered up between her legs, disappearing inside her only to reemerge from her mouth. The large serpents slowly weaved in and out of her body. Pale flesh tore and popped, only to be restored again so the torment could last eternal. As the first serpent entered her eye socket, she wished for death.

  The Sidian heat was sweltering; Kian had never felt its like before. The cloaks Tavantis insisted they wear were stifling, and the humidity made everything he wore cling to his sweat-soaked body. Unwashed human flesh and rotting corpses filled Blackgate’s air with a vile stench. Tavantis didn’t seem to mind the smell or the heat. He swaggered through the city like a king.

  Somewhere in the vastness of Blackgate, the wealthy made their home, but it was not in the district they moved through now. Never had he seen such squalor, uncleanness, and immorality. Slavery was prominent everywhere he looked, and those under the lash of their Sidian masters suffered greatly. It gnawed at him to see the abuse heaped on those in bondage. Their taskmasters beat, raped, and humiliated their thralls with impunity. Kian had seen animals treated better than the slaves of Blackgate. Men, women, and children suffered terrible atrocities, openly on the city streets, that the kingdoms of the north would never tolerate. He could only imagine what horrors befell the captives behind the walls of the slavers’ homes.

  The poor wretches had been taken from many different countries, some from regions far beyond the Sidian borders. The downtrodden slaves and the travesties they suffered tore at his conscience. If he could, he would free them all and send their masters to Hell.

  Looking up, Kian could see no moon. The large dilapidated buildings of the city blocked his view. Moon or not, it was good to finally be outside.

  When they had arrived, Tavantis had taken them to a tavern named the Poison Tankard, a name which Kian though might drive some of the owner’s business away. The proprietor, a man named Eshan, had hidden them in a small room beneath the floor of his inn for most of the day. When night fell, they had ventured out in to the city.

  Tavantis had told him little of his plan to get into the great temple that dominated the city’s southern skyline. The swordsman cared little, though. With Endra gone, he was prepared to follow whatever scheme his diabolical brother had devised.

  His head ached and the strange feelings that plagued his physique still lingered, though the pain had abated a great deal. Kian hoped he was on the mend. He could ill afford another attack like the one he had in Trimenia—not here, not now.

  Trudging along, he had to push scores of beggars away. Most looked sick or malformed in some way, and many even crawled upon the cobbled streets of the ancient city, legless or infirm. It was impossible to avoid the vagrants, so many stood along the crowded streets hoping for a copper or two to buy a loaf of bread, or a drink in one of the numerous taverns along the thoroughfare.

  Turning onto another busy avenue, the swordsman hadn’t gone far when he felt a hand on the pouch hanging from his belt. Kian swiftly snatched the wrist of a boy no more than ten.

  “You should not steal,” Kian scolded.

  The boy’s free hand whipped around, and the Slayer’s golden eyes caught a glint of steel in enough time to stop the little urchin from burying the dagger in his belly.

  “What is wrong with you?” he said, looking down at the sneering child. “You would kill a man for a handful of coins?”

  Tavantis quickly walked back to where he held the small cutpurse. Grabbing the boy by the head and chin, the mage gave a slight jerk and snapped the child’s neck. The boy’s thin frame went limp, Kian let go of his tiny wrists, and the little thief’s body collapsed to the ground.

  “Street trash,” Tavantis said, shaking his head. “It is unfortunate.”

  Kian’s brows lowered and he grabbed his brother by the collar, baring his fangs, incensed by the sudden execution of the child. “Are you mad? I would have given him the coin. There was no reason to kill the boy.”

  “You are wrong,” Tavantis said, shoving Kian’s hand away. “In another city, I would have let the child go, but not here, brother
. A simple street thief like that could be a man’s downfall in Blackgate. Who knows who the little murderer worked for? I still have enemies here, and we can’t afford any trouble before we get to the temple. Now come, we must go.”

  Kian reluctantly walked on, looking over his shoulder at the boy’s body. The citizens of this miserable place casually stepped over the dead child as if he wasn’t even there.

  “How did you suffer this abominable place for so long?”

  Tavantis patted him on the back. “Blackgate is an acquired taste. There is no mercy or second chances inside these walls for anyone. In the dark city, you must kill without hesitation or you will die. It is the way of things in the Beast’s city, and all who dwell here understand that.”

  As they moved down the avenue, Kian took in the disgusting actions of those who inhabited the alleyways and shadowy streets. Men took their whores on the street corners beside thieves committing murder. Drunkards brawled alongside children begging for any scrap of food.

  Tavantis pointed out several wizards as they walked alone unbothered by the crowds. The mages skulked through the night, cowls pulled over their heads or wearing masks to conceal their identity from any rival or enemy that may be watching or following. Even the beggars didn’t accost the sorcerers as they went about their strange affairs.

  Street duels seemed commonplace. Men killed over the slightest insult or the attention of a disease-riddled courtesan. Tavantis knew many of the people’s names and told Kian some of their horrible stories as they passed though the overcrowded city.

  The Beast’s soldiers were a common sight. Their dark livery bore the head of a horned demon upon it, the repugnant symbol of their god. They strutted through the streets like arrogant roosters, and Kian never once saw them intervene in any of the atrocities committed right in front of them, or aid anyone in distress. Often they encouraged violence, betting on the outcome of a duel or fight.

  After a time, he and Tavantis passed into the market district and Kian found the area was no better. Loathsome merchants hawked their illegal wares; powders and potions that would alter the mind, and rancid foodstuffs were peddled without a care. Kian thought Rhys’s stomach would turn if he saw the filthy conditions the sick and injured were treated in by the dirty healers and drunken barbers of the revolting market.

  Trinkets and jewelry, weapons and armor, all manner of items were bought and sold through the huge square. Kian assumed that most were stolen or taken from the bodies of those that had been murdered.

  If the Beast really did live in this abhorrent city and claimed it as his own, the god was truly evil.

  The immense temple grew closer as they exited the market. Kian could see its twisted and bizarre outline clearly now, the foreboding place standing alone on the southern side of the city. The structure would almost drive one mad if a person gazed on it too long. There was no symmetry to the colossal structures at all, and it was nearly impossible to follow the lines of design in the strange collection of buildings. Only the huge center dome stood out sharply against the skyline.

  “How do we get in?” Kian asked.

  “Not through the front door. King Aram will have his sentries stationed at all the entrances. It would be futile to try fighting our way in. We would be discovered and overwhelmed long before we ever got close enough to use the Star. Besides, it’s not hard getting in. It’s getting out that may be a bit of an issue.”

  “I take it you know a way inside.”

  “Yes, and you won’t like it much,” Tavantis said with a grim smile.

  The street adjacent to the colossal temple stretched down the complex’s entire length and was all but deserted. The Sidians seemed to have chosen to love their god from a distance. The pair skulked along the empty street, using the deserted and rundown buildings on the avenue’s far side for cover until they reached the western side of the temple.

  Kian saw what looked like a small pond of dark water near the corner of the large wall that surrounded the temple. A foul stench emanated from it, and he could see bloated bodies floating on the surface.

  Tavantis again moved swiftly behind the cover of the buildings on the opposite side of the street, so Kian followed him until they were directly across from the rancid pool. It was easy to see the sentries walking the wall in pairs, one man holding a torch and the other a crossbow.

  They crouched behind a small shed and peered around its side.

  “Once the next group of sentries passes, we will make for the pond. It is the overflow from the moat that surrounds the temple. It runs across the entrance courtyard and goes under the wall. If the guards get nosy, just be still and try to blend in with the dead. Once we are in the moat, there is a grate on the far west side of the temple that opens into the bowels of the place.”

  Kian wrinkled his nose. “Why does he have that filthy water flowing inside the temple, and why would he fill a moat with corpses?”

  “Who knows? Maybe for some bizarre ritual or something, or perhaps it’s a way to dispose of the dead? I didn’t ask last time I was here. Why the foul god does what he does is not important, it is just our way inside.”

  “Can’t you use magic to get us in?”

  “The temple is shielded from teleportation. The entire structure is warded. The Beast would know we were here as soon as I cast the spell, and there is no guarantee we would survive triggering the wards themselves.”

  Kian didn’t relish the idea of swimming through a pool filled with rotten bodies, but there was little choice.

  They watched as a pair of guards passed on the wall. Tavantis and he both shed their cloaks and quickly made for the fetid pond, easing into the soupy water as quietly as they could. Kian thought he might retch. His heightened sense of smell was overwhelmed by the odor of the rotten sludge.

  Their heads barely above the surface, they moved along slowly, shoving the dead away as they went. Near the wall, Kian saw Tavantis take a breath and go under. Kian did the same. Pushing the corpses out of his way, he slipped through the underwater arch in the base of the wall. It was hard not to get a taste of the thick water. When he surfaced, his lips were wet with the putrid liquid and he nearly gagged.

  Tavantis had been right. Kian saw that the water that filled the pool had come from a small manmade trench, its sides and bottom built with mortared stone. The waterway connected to a large moat and it was full with the dead. The trench was only five feet deep and difficult to move through. Thankfully, it was wide and allowed them to shift the dead bodies so they could advance without too much difficulty. Several times, they had to lie still among the channel’s rotten inhabitants to avoid the sentries walking their posts.

  Sliding into the moat, Kian found it much deeper. He followed Tavantis as the mage submerged and swam under the floating bodies. Beneath the surface was a clear space between those corpses that floated and those that had sunk to the bottom.

  Making their way around the corner of the temple, Kian found his brother had risen and now floated beside a small grate set just inches above the waterline. Kian could hear the echo of the overflow spilling into the temple as he swam near the grate.

  “If you please,” Tavantis said, gesturing to the iron bars. Putting his feet against the temple, Kian took hold of the grate and pulled. His inhuman strength easily ripped the corroded iron bars away from the stone. Both entered, swiftly falling twenty feet into a large channel of deep water.

  Bobbing like pieces of driftwood, the two took in their surroundings.

  Swimming a short distance the pair found a stone landing to climb out of the fetid water. There was a set of crumbling stone stairs ascending into the temple just ahead.

  The darkness of the temple’s lowest level didn’t impede either of them. They dried themselves as best they could. Tavantis checked his array of weapons then pulled the large green diamond from it pouch, both of them gazing at its beauty.

  “This will destroy Beast, Kian. Today, I will settle our debt with the fiend,” Tavantis
said confidently.

  Kian said nothing, but he wondered if Tavantis was there for their mother or for revenge. His brother’s reasons were unimportant, though. They would both die today, so his plan was just to kill as many of the Beast’s minions as he could before he fell.

  With great stealth, the two brothers moved up into the temple. It took a good deal of time to move through the confusing structure’s maze of tunnels and dark corridors before they finally reached a hallway lit with several torches.

  Tavantis motioned and Kian followed him down the hall. Both had drawn their weapons in expectation of being confronted at any time.

  “I don’t like this,” Tavantis whispered. “We should have seen someone by now. Not so much as a slave or priest is stirring. I don’t understand it.”

  “A trap,” Kian asked.

  “It would seem so, and it is too late to turn back. Just get me close to the Beast. All I need is a moment. Trap or not, I mean to destroy that bastard even if it kills me.”

  They slowly moved on. Kian listened but heard nothing in any of the hallways they passed. The swordsman didn’t know how much time had passed when they finally stepped into a huge well-lit corridor, larger than any of the others they had been in. Cautiously following it, the brothers entered an enormous domed chamber. The room was circular with six wide bridges that spanned a massive hole. The spans led to a central platform where a shrouded figure stood near a bloodstained altar carved from a single piece of jade.

  They had found the Beast.

  Tavantis moved around the room, staring at strange writing on the domed ceiling. While his brother perused the room, Kian concentrated on the god.

  He couldn’t see the Beast’s eyes in the god’s cowl, but a bearded chin and fanged mouth could clearly be discerned.

  “Welcome, Tavantis. I have been expecting you,” the god said contemptuously.

  Kian looked at the entrances to the chamber that surrounded the room, expecting to see hordes of soldiers emerge at any moment.

  “You have grown brave, wizard, to stand against me. You think more of yourself than you should.”