by Greg Curtis
“Try me, hag!” Hendrick let loose his anger. “After what you've done? Do you imagine for a single beat of that twisted black heart of yours that I won't do everything I've said to you and more? You will answer my questions or you will suffer!”
“My master sees what you do to me worm. He feels it too. His blood runs through my veins. And he will make you pay. Very soon.”
“And who is your master?” Val suddenly asked the question, making Hendrick jump. The sage had been quiet until then. “Does he have a name?”
“He is beyond names, ugly one. Beyond your pitiful knowledge. He was there before names. Before all. But you will meet him soon enough, and then you will know.”
“He claims to be older than mortals?”
“Older than time.”
“A behemoth then.” The sage nodded to himself, a gesture that made his nose wobble disturbingly. “A liar of the depths. And you know of course that he lied to you.”
“He does not lie!”
“Of course he does child. He cannot do other. He knows no truth. None of his kind do. Only the lies that serve them.”
“It is you who lies!”
“I'm a sage child. Bound by Hendrick's spell only to tell the truth. And I should tell you that that is not your master’s blood that runs in your veins. He lied to you. It is the blood of one of his half breed parasites. A servant of his. And he does not regard it as any sort of child.”
Hendrick looked away from his youngest stepmother to the sage in surprise, wondering what he was saying. First they had a great beast, now a parasite as well?
“It is not your child either. No more than the worms in the bellies of the sick are theirs.”
“That's –.” Sana tried to deny it.
“How it always is.” The sage finished her sentence for her. “You think you are the first mortal the behemoths have played with? Or even the only one this particular behemoth is using at the moment? Of course you aren't. You are nothing but a tool for him. A cow used to breed his monstrous servants. One of many.”
“No!”
“Yes! And you'll know the truth of my words because I'll tell you exactly how all this came about. I imagine it all started when you were much younger. A child. You heard music. Or a man's voice calling to you. You were lured away to his grotto. Or his cave. Or his sacred place. Whatever he called it. And there you lay with the ancient beast. Or you thought you did. In sooth one of his parasites laid its egg in you. You thought it was only for a few hours. But when you returned to your people it was to find that many days had passed. And that people had been looking for you. But it didn't matter. You made up a story about becoming lost or something of that nature, and because you were young and fresh of face, people believed you.”
“You returned to him after that, each time the moon was full, for perhaps a year. You had to because you were drawn by his song. His voice. And he brought you back for so long because it took that long for one of the eggs to finally take hold in your flesh. And throughout that time you lied to your family about where you were going because it was easier than telling them the truth.”
“Each time you returned there was another wound in your belly. A place where it seemed you had been stabbed. It hurt and you were sick for days each time. Until eventually the pain went away and the wound healed.”
“But you soon forgot about it. All you cared about were the pretty stories he had whispered into your ears about how he would reward you for your favour. Bring wonder into your heart. How he would love you. Make you his queen.”
“He lied to you.”
“There was a darker desire in your heart too. A yearning for something unwholesome. Something you could never speak about out loud. Revenge perhaps. Power. A hunger for pain. It is different for each girl. But he promised to sate it. Completely and forever. And you wanted that.”
“So he filled you with seed. But not his seed. He grew a life in you. But what you carry is no child of his. Behemoths allow no children of theirs to be born. They consider their children as enemies and if one was ever conceived they would kill it immediately. And as you are not a behemoth, you could not carry a true child of his anyway. The offspring you carry is nothing of him. It is a half creature, mostly of the parasites that travel with him and serve him, but with a little of you. Half of their world, half of this one. He cares little for it and nothing at all for you.”
“But what he placed inside you is of use to him. It is his servant. A creature that can survive in his presence and do his bidding. A half creature not only of this world but of its master's. And like its master it cannot survive in this world. Not yet. Not until it matures. And so it hides from this world. It hides inside you. And it grows.”
“That creature, that worm or serpent, has been growing slowly inside you for years. It shapes unnatural appetites in you. You eat what it needs to feed on. And as it consumes what you eat it becomes a little more of this world. And it in turn has been changing you so that it may finally be born. Making you tougher and stronger so that you can carry it to term as it becomes more of this world.”
“But it could never make you so tough that you would survive its birth. Because it is larger than you. You have only contained it so far because only a fraction of it exists in this world and because it is curled up so tightly. But if it had lived, then when it was ready to be born, it would by then be fully half of this world and you would be unable to contain it. So it would simply rip its way free of you. And your lifeless husk would be discarded like a worn-out jacket. Just like so many thousands before you.”
“No!”
“Yes. The birth always kills the mother. It is the way of these ghostly serpents. They are born of death. They live a life of murder. And they kill those they mate with.”
“Of course now that it is dead, you have failed your master in bringing its monstrous servant into the world. It is not the Prince here that your master will be angered by. It is you.”
“No!” Sana protested, denying the sage's claim even as her eyes filled with fear. It was the first time she had ever shown it.
“Yes. Your death will be particularly unpleasant. And it will come soon. As soon as your master arrives. He will sense the death of his unborn servant and grow angry – with you.”
“Question answered?” The sage turned to Hendrick, asking to be dismissed.
“What is a behemoth?”
“Ancient creatures. Around before the mortal peoples arose. Monsters of the depths. Of the sea and the land. The forbears of dragons. Some say they are the forbears of all life. They sleep mostly, secure in their world. They are unconcerned with others and are hardly ever seen. Little is known of them. But sometimes they like to be served. Then they send out for females so they can breed their servants in them who once matured will return to them and serve. Mortals cannot serve them because they cannot survive in the behemoth's lairs.”
“And strangely, despite their power behemoths cannot live in mortal realms either. The air is too clean and the temperature too chill. They like the fire of the earth. Instead they transform the worlds around them to meet their needs. That in part is what their servants do.”
“It would seem that the great beast has been doing just that. Letting the parasite reshape this girl’s body, while he reshapes her mind. He has been bending her will to his. Confusing her until she believes she not only carries his baby, but also that she needs to reshape this world so that the parasite within her may survive here. That is, I would guess, why she wed the King. If she controlled him, she believed she could use him.”
“And that's what's coming through the portal?”
“It would seem so. Which is a problem for your world as behemoths cannot be fought. Not by mortals. They are not gods, but they're so close that it makes little difference. No people of any world that I've heard of has ever defeated a behemoth. Many worlds have been all but destroyed by them though.”
“We can fight!” Lady Marda suddenly interrupted, her fa
ce white with fury.
“No. You can't.” Val turned to her. “No one can. On every world, across all of recorded history, no one has ever been able to defeat a behemoth. Not successfully. No technology and no magic has ever been able to touch them.”
“And this other baby?” Hendrick had to ask.
“There is no other baby. No mortal baby could survive in whatever her body has become. She is either confused by the behemoth's magic, or she lies out of desperation.”
“Vitanna be praised! Question answered and thank you,” Hendrick dismissed the sage, relieved beyond measure that there was no brother or sister of his in Sana's belly. He still didn't really know what a behemoth was, but he suspected someone else would tell him in due course. And if not he guessed he would be seeing one shortly anyway.
Meanwhile he was becoming curious about another matter. What magic flowed through Sana's veins? Her blood was clear. Her skin was clear. He had Mithril in his. His skin was marked with traceries of sparkling grey. If he cut himself his blood sparkled with it in the sunlight. She had no markings that he could see. She didn't even have blood!
“She must answer for her crimes! Whatever she is. Chain her!”
A new voice abruptly intruded on his questions, making Hendrick look up. It was his mother. Seeing her standing there, blood trickling down her face, for the first time he understood something of her. She was a woman and a wife. She was a mother too. But before any of that she was a warrior. Words and politics might be her weapons, but she was deadly with them. And she was determined. Still, why had she left his father's side? He risked another glance over to where his father lay, and saw that nothing seemed to have changed. The King wasn't dead yet. But he wasn't moving either.
“I am the wife of the King!” Sana called out. “You will not touch me!”
“You have attacked and harmed the King! That is treason! You have admitted to infidelity. That is grounds for ending the marriage. And you will have to answer to him for both in time.”
“Chain her, cage her. But do not harm her further. That is the king's prerogative.”
Why did they not just kill her, Hendrick wondered? It seemed the right thing to do given her actions. And if what Val had said was true than she carried no other child in her. But his mother had spoken and he had no say in the matter.
“Then chain him too!” Sana nodded angrily as best she could at Hendrick. “He has attacked the King's wife!”
There was a sudden pause as the soldiers suddenly realised that she was right and they had two crimes to deal with. He had attacked her. And that too was a crime, even if she was a traitor. No Royal could be touched. He could be executed for it!
“My son is a true Prince of the realm. Seventeenth in line. And he has acted as he should to protect his father the King. He has committed no crime, and if there is to be any censure then it will be a family matter. “You,” Hendrick’s mother turned back to Sana, “have betrayed the Realm! That is treason!”
“Chain her! And use full manacles!”
Immediately she gave the order, several soldiers went rushing off, and Hendrick knew a moment of intense relief. He'd forgotten he was officially a prince. He didn't live as one. And it wasn’t as if he could ever take the throne. But he was still a Royal. It was probably one of the few times in his life when he was actually glad to have the title. Sana meanwhile didn't look so pleased. Especially not when she saw the soldiers rushing off to find chains for her. But she gave up arguing and lay there staring angrily at him. Perhaps the grievous wounds she had suffered were finally starting to rob her of her impossible strength?
Meanwhile he wondered where the soldiers were going to find chains strong enough to hold her.
The more important question though was his father's health. Looking across to where the King lay, surrounded by people and among them – he hoped – physicians, he knew his condition was serious. The looks on their faces said as much.
How did he feel about that? Hendrick discovered that he didn't know. The man was his father. He was sure he was supposed to feel some worry for him. But he didn't know the man personally. He only really knew him as the King of Styrion.
Still, he knew he should do something. If nothing else his father was a good king. A poor father and husband, but a good king. People liked him. And at the moment they needed him. They needed him to be alive. If the people heard that the King had been killed as they fled the city, it would break them.
He turned to Marnie. “Is there one among your people who has a spell of healing?”
“Yalden.”
“Then could you get him for my father please? My beasts will hold Sana.”
Marnie nodded and instantly turned and ran, heading for the outer terraces. He hoped she didn't have to run too far. By the looks of things his father needed help urgently. Then as he stood there waiting along with everyone else, he worried. So it came as a relief when he saw a pair of soldiers came running back with a set of chains for his newest stepmother. At least it was a distraction.
Of course they were reluctant to fit them to her. Between her strength and the dozen panthers still holding her down he supposed he could understand that. Which was why he ended up fitting them to her himself.
It was a tricky task, made more so by her struggling. He'd never chained anyone before. And every time his hand brushed the ghostly flesh of her dead unborn creature, he shuddered and felt an instinctive need to pull his hand back. But still he got the iron manacles around her wrist, ankle and waist and then connected them together with the short chain.
After that he let the panthers return to their world, knowing that they had no more work to do here. Besides, they were only making everyone nervous. After that he watched as the soldiers carried her away. With only one arm and one leg, Sana would not pose much of a threat to anyone, even with her great strength. Unless as she said, her missing limbs did grow back. She still struggled, though not as greatly as before. It seemed her strength was finally fading. But she still sent a few soldiers flying, and several times tried to escape by hopping, only to be brought down by a few brave men who were willing to tackle her.
As for himself he realised there was nothing more he could do. Not for his father. Not for his newest stepmother. And the barrier was still flashing red and the cannons still booming as this behemoth's arrival drew nearer. And so Hendrick went back to where his table had been tossed, righted it and started picking up all the supplies he could find and putting them on it, ready to begin filling packs once again.
He had a thousand questions he wanted to ask. A thousand things to think about. For the moment though, helping people flee the city was the only thing he could actually do.
Chapter Twelve
Midnight had come and gone and Hendrick was exhausted. But he was safe. He hoped. They all were. Or at least everyone who had fled the city. He didn't know how many remained inside it. What he was sure of was that if they were still there they didn't have long to live. The barrier was flickering much faster than before. When the portal finally opened they would find themselves on the other world it connected to. And even if they survived that, he doubted it would be a good world.
He was perched on a rock on the top of a hill overlooking the distant city, staring at it, and waiting for the end. Desperate to see what was coming. He was nervous too, wondering if even as far away as he was, it was enough. But he couldn't turn away from the sight. He had to watch. He had to see.
At this distance, he couldn't actually see the barrier. Only the reddish glow in the sky above it. But that was enough as the glow seemed to fill the sky with its ominous warning of things to come. The flickering was almost too fast to see by then and it just looked red and threatening. Similarly, the booming of what had sounded like cannon had become almost continuous thunder. The beating of thousands of giant war drums as an enemy drew near. There wasn't much time left.
Meanwhile most of the refugees had camped for the night. As he looked behind him at the main road
heading away from the city, all he could see was a line of camp fires glowing yellow in the night. It was at least half a dozen leagues long trailing from the dark shadow that was the crest of the hill he was sitting on and disappearing into the distance. And all of them were further away from the city than he was. All of them were on the far side of the hill from the city, meaning that even if what was coming proved more terrible than he had feared, they still had a hill to shield them. If two leagues of distance and a hill couldn't save them, then he feared nothing would.
His mother, the other wives and princes, the generals and advisers and of course the King, were all up at the front, leading the people away from the city and presumably discussing strategy. He probably should have been with them as well. But he had decided he needed to see this. He needed to know who or what had tried to kill him. Had had his father attacked and gravely hurt. Had started a war. And had destroyed the city he had grown up in. His first home. He needed to know what new threat he faced, because whatever this behemoth was, he knew it to be the enemy. And he very much doubted that it would be happy with just Styrion Might. Its plans were surely larger than just one city.