Scales of the Serpent

by Richard A. Knaak

  But finally, Uldyssian managed to contain his powers. The effort sent him to his knees. His heart pounded and for a time his breath came in short gasps.

  Then, slowly, he registered colder, drier air and soil much harder than that of the jungles. After having grown accustomed to the hotter climate near Kehjan, the change left him shivering. Only belatedly did Uldyssian finally regain enough control over his abilities to adjust himself to this new environment.

  And new it was. He had thought at first that he had returned to the vicinity of his village, but nowhere around Seram were there mountains so great. In fact, nowhere that he had been looked like this region.

  The sky was overcast, but Uldyssian could still see far enough to marvel at the landscape. No, definitely not near Seram, Kehjan, or anywhere else of which he had heard. Perhaps Mendeln might have—

  Mendeln! How could he have forgotten about his brother? Spinning in a circle, Uldyssian looked for any sign.

  But he was alone in the strange land.

  “Mendeln!” Uldyssian roared. “Mendeln!” When he received no answer, the son of Diomedes switched tactics. “Rathma! Where are you, damn you? You want me—you and that thing—well here I am! Me for my brother! What say you?”

  His voice echoed throughout the mountains. Without at first realizing it, one particular peak caught his attention. It was taller, vaster than the rest, almost as if a king among kings. The more he looked at the mountain, the more he felt drawn toward it.

  With a colorful curse at Rathma and Trag’Oul, Uldyssian turned his back on the peak. Nothing good could come of it, not if it somehow sought to call to him. He trod up the sloping land, glad that he had not switched to the garments of the Torajians. They were thin and airy, not suitable at all for this region. Even though he could keep himself warm, just wearing shirt, pants, and boots gave him additional mental comfort.

  Uldyssian reached the top of the hill upon which he had found himself and searched both with his eyes and power for any nearby settlement. However, if there were any in the region, they were hidden from him. All he saw or sensed were trees, hills, and the mountain again.

  Uldyssian stiffened.

  Yes, there it was. Not any mountain, but the very same peak from which he had been retreating.

  “More games!” He glared at the overcast sky, seeking the dragon. “I told you! Stop this now! Come for me if you want me!”

  Again his voice echoed over and over, but still there was no reply. Uldyssian finally decided to get their attention.

  Mustering his will, he clapped his hands together as hard as he could.

  The resulting sound was like thunder, so loud, in fact, that it shook the trees and ground. Over and over it repeated, as if some massive but invisible storm swept through the area.

  He waited, this time certain of success…but after several breaths, Uldyssian still stood alone.

  “Damn you, Rathma!” Uldyssian roared. This time, though, his fury was spent. The echoes perished after only three or four repetitions.

  Defeated, he knelt down by a rocky growth and buried his face in his hands. Each time Uldyssian began to believe he could face those arrayed against him, he was proven wrong.

  Without warning, the ground shook again and for a moment Uldyssian thought that his efforts had caused some collapse or tremor. He leapt to his feet, not certain exactly what he planned to do, and saw that the shaking was confined to his immediate location.

  More to the point, centered directly beneath the outgrowth.

  He started to back away—only to find the ground rising up behind him as well. Ahead, the outgrowth swelled. It stood almost twice as tall as Uldyssian and nearly as wide. One part jutted above the rest, giving it some resemblance to a head.

  And then two eyes opened up in the “head,” two eyes a deep rich brown and almost human. They glanced left, then right, then down at Uldyssian, who stood awestruck.

  There was shifting in the dirt and grass that made up the mound. The outgrowth took a step toward him, huge chunks of stone and more breaking away. Another step…and more collapsing dirt and rock.

  The thing now had two thick, solid legs. It paused, then began shaking itself like a wet hound. More dirt and stone flew away, some of it toward Uldyssian, who awoke from his astonishment just in time to deflect the most dangerous ones.

  First one arm, then the second, formed. The earthen giant looked at the blunt end of the initial appendage. Stony fingers suddenly cracked through, a full hand created less than a breath later. The same then happened with the other arm.

  Uldyssian backed up against the dirt wall behind him, but did not otherwise act. If a demon was about to attack him, then this thing was a slow-witted one. It seemed more like a sleeper waking than any threat.

  The giant flexed its fingers, then surveyed its body as if seeing it for the first time. The eyes shifted and Uldyssian could have sworn that there was a tremendous sadness in them.

  It spoke. Through a crevasse suddenly forming near the bottom of the head, the creature spoke.

  “Wwwho arrre yyyooou…” it began slowly, each syllable sounding as if the thing was clearing a throat of centuries of disuse. “Whhooo are you…” it repeated stronger. “That calls a name…that calls a name I haven’t heard for…so very, very long?”

  As the voice cleared, Uldyssian recalled what he had noticed about the eyes. The voice, while still very gravelly, was also almost human.

  “Who are you,” the being said a third time. “Who calls the…name of Rathma?”

  “My name is Uldyssian ul-Diomed and if you are a servant of Rathma’s, then beware, for I’ve no love for your master!”

  The giant studied Uldyssian, who now stood in a battle stance. Yet, something held Uldyssian back, prevented him from striking the first blow.

  A grating, rumbling sound suddenly issued forth from the bizarre creature. Slowly it evolved into something recognizable…laughter.

  “So glad I am…to have awakened for a time…if only to hear this…” The thing shook his head, sending more fragments flying. “Rathma! No sense of humor…in that one! He would be…offended…and for me! No, little Uldyssian ul-Diomed! Ha! Such a…long name for my…dry throat! I am no servant of…the dour one…I was…am…Bul-Kathos…”

  He announced this as if Uldyssian would know the name and marvel at it. But as the former farmer failed to react, Bul-Kathos lost some of his own humor.

  “The name…the name means nothing to you…has it been…has it been so long…” He studied hard his earthen and stone body. “Yesss…there is little of me and…much more of the world! What I dreamed for…what I decided must befall…me…is working well…even the forgetting…by mortal men…”

  The wall behind Uldyssian collapsed. Uldyssian expected some sort of trick, but instead the giant sat down on a patch of ground that rose up to create a seat for him. Bul-Kathos eyed the empty area between him and Uldyssian.

  “The years…they must number a thousand…or more.” He glanced up at the intruder. “Tell me, little Uldyssian ul-Diomed, know you…know you the names Vasily…and Esu?”

  “The names mean as little to me as that of Bul-Kathos,” Uldyssian admitted. “But all would be preferred to be known by me than that of the monstrous Rathma!”

  It initially appeared that Bul-Kathos did not hear the last, for he looked to the ground once more and muttered to himself. “No Vasily…where are you…my brother?” A slight, sardonic chuckle escaped the giant. “But no Esu, either! How that would irritate…her…” As quickly as the humor came, it disappeared. “If even she…still rages…”

  Uldyssian cared little for the creature’s ramblings. All that mattered was that this Bul-Kathos—whatever he was—knew of Rathma. Perhaps somehow this could aid Uldyssian in rescuing Mendeln.

  He focused on one comment the other had made. “Bul-Kathos, you speak of a lost brother. I’ve one also missing. His name is Mendeln and he is a victim of Rathma! If you could in some way aid me—”
>
  Bul-Kathos looked up. “Rathma has…no victims. He is not…Esu…never Esu…if she still lives…”

  Uldyssian finally gave up. Bul-Kathos had obviously long ago abandoned touch with others…and perhaps even himself. If the strange being was no threat, then it was time for Uldyssian to move on.

  And again, his eyes shifted to the towering mountain. This time, Uldyssian wondered if he should go to it.

  But as if reading his intention, the macabre figure, suddenly animated, leapt up. “Your path…lies elsewhere…young one…not there…”

  That only made Uldyssian even more determined to reach the peak. “And why not there?”

  “Because…it is forbidden…for you.”

  To be told that further infuriated Uldyssian. Thrusting his chin out defiantly, he returned, “A good enough reason to journey to it, then.”

  Bul-Kathos swelled in size and an ominous shadow crossed his earth and rock face. Even the eyes—the almost human eyes—now held a threat. “No. You will not.”

  The giant moved toward Uldyssian, and as he did, more stone and dirt fell away. Now, although he still looked as if created from the very ground, Bul-Kathos wore the vague semblance of a bearded warrior. His skin was the brown of the soil and his hair the green of grass. There was nothing hesitant anymore about his movements—

  Nor about his intentions toward Uldyssian.

  Bul-Kathos raised a fist and in it formed a huge, stone club. He swung at the mortal’s midsection.

  But the club deflected off an invisible barrier quickly created by his target. Uldyssian already sweated from effort; the giant’s strike had nearly penetrated.

  “You are more than you seem,” rumbled Bul-Kathos. “A nephalem I would call you, young one, if not for the fact that I and Rathma may be the last…”

  “The last of your age, maybe,” retorted the son of Diomedes. “But time has long passed you just as you’ve pointed out.”

  “But no matter how many centuries, I yet recall my duty well! And so Mount Arreat will remain forbidden for you and all else who would desecrate its interior!”

  He struck the ground with the club and the land shook so much that Uldyssian toppled. More and more the earthen creature gave way to an ancient warrior. Clad in kilt and sandals and with a golden band around his head, Bul-Kathos resembled some barbarian deity…a barbarian deity who radiated raw force such as Uldyssian had never faced, not even from Lucion.

  “We swore that the way to the mount would be forever sealed from those like Esu,” continued a furious Bul-Kathos, “who would’ve used that within to further ravage a weakened world! And though the others may be more of the soil than even I desired to be, in their memory and our oath I’ll continue to fulfill my sacred duty!”

  He struck the ground again and Uldyssian, who had nearly gotten to his feet, fell back. Uldyssian turned that tumble into a roll, a wise maneuver as the club next shattered the stones atop which he had just lain.

  “I am not the master of the elements that Esu was, young fool, but Bul-Kathos wields much might of his own!”

  “And speaks about it even more!” snapped Uldyssian in turn. From his awkward position, he still managed to focus on his adversary. The giant made for a hard-to-miss target…

  There was a sound like a thunderclap. The area between the two exploded, as if the very air had caught fire. Both combatants were thrown far from one another.

  Uldyssian struck a tree, jarring his bones so hard he thought that they were all shattered. Despite that, he managed to immediately fall forward into a crouching position and seize a handful of dirt. He threw the handful high in the air and concentrated.

  The dirt broke apart, becoming a whirling, blinding force that assailed the giant just as he regained his own balance. However, Bul-Kathos did not recoil, but rather inhaled…and sneezed. The whirlwind broke apart and the dust formed in a tight ball that landed in the warrior’s brown palm.

  With a bellowing laugh, Bul-Kathos raised his hand and the dirt stretched two directions, creating in the blink of an eye a spear with a tip that gleamed like a diamond. He threw the spear at Uldyssian.

  Again, the former farmer raised a shield, but this time it was not quite strong enough. The spear slowed, yet did not halt. Uldyssian pressed, but the missile caught him in the left shoulder. He cried out as the point penetrated—

  Bul-Kathos was suddenly before him, the giant gripping the spear with both hands. He obviously intended to drive the spear deeper, for Uldyssian had managed to keep the wound fairly shallow.

  “You were warned! If only you’d not refused to turn away, young one! I’m sworn to do what I must now!”

  Uldyssian clutched the upper edge of the spear.

  Lightning crackled along the length of it, racing to where his foe held the weapon. Bul-Kathos let out a roar as the powerful energy engulfed him.

  Gritting his teeth, Uldyssian shoved the spear from the wound. Falling back, he touched the bloody opening, which immediately sealed.

  The pair paused. Both Uldyssian and Bul-Kathos gasped for air as their gazes met.

  “A fine battle!” the giant almost cheerfully called. “It breathes new life into me, recalls me the magnificent challenges I once faced daily…”

  “You may find amusement in this, but I don’t!” Uldyssian snapped. “A friend is dead, my brother is lost, and the woman I love and those who trust in me might all be dead now while I waste my time on this!” He suddenly straightened. “Continue with your game, if you wish, Bul-Kathos, but I’m done with it all! Very well! Keep whatever foul secret you guard in that mountain to yourself!”

  “I can’t trust that you’ll not be returning, young one, and though ’tis in part my own folly that you know of Arreat and that she houses something, I cannot let you live!”

  The giant clasped his fists together, but before he could do whatever it was he planned, a figure materialized between them.

  “But you will let him live, old ox. Not only live, but come with me to the depths of Mount Arreat…”

  Bul-Kathos blurted the name before Uldyssian could. “Rathma!” Then, as the other’s words registered, a scowl spread across the giant’s gravelly features. “Inside the mount? Am I mad from isolation and only dream you? You’d never suggest such a thing!”

  “I am as real as you, Bul-Kathos.” To prove his point, Rathma thrust a gloved finger into the taller figure’s chest. “And, perhaps, even more so,” he added, his glove coming away covered in ground and grass. Rathma shook his head. “I thought you would outlast even me…”

  “I may yet, if you persist in this! How does this one come to need to visit the mount?”

  “Because my mother has returned.”

  It was all Rathma had to say. Bul-Kathos’s face changed utterly. He spat, but instead of water, mud landed on the ruined ground. Uldyssian realized that Rathma had the right of it concerning the giant; Bul-Kathos looked much more like them now, but what the son of Diomedes had first seen was the truth. Bul-Kathos existed more as spirit; his true body had long ago been replaced by the soil in which he had lain.

  It bespoke how very old the giant was and how very long he had likely stood sentinel over this mysterious peak.

  “Lilith…” Bul-Kathos spoke her name like someone who had just discovered that they had swallowed poison. “She still bears the murders of my parents on her shoulders! They would’ve never let Inarius slay us, as she said he would, Rathma! I’m sure of it—”

  “And I am not…but that is neither here nor there. My mother saved us only to become hers, a fate that would have been worse than death, trust me. As for my father…in the name of his sanctimony, he is capable of things just as terrible…”

  That stilled the huge warrior completely. “Aye, I know that too well…”

  “Then you understand why I shall now take Uldyssian to see Mount Arreat’s secret.”

  Bul-Kathos nodded. “Aye…and no one else’ll stop you. If they still stand, that is. I’ve let any who can
hear me know that the way must be clear for you and yours…”

  With a swirl of his cloak, Rathma turned to Uldyssian. “Well, son of Diomedes, you wanted to see what lay in the mount. Come and I will show you.”

  But something else concerned Uldyssian far more. “Where is my brother? Where’s Mendeln?”

  “With Trag’Oul. It must be so for now. Events are rushing forward even swifter than I had imagined that they could and he, too, must be ready to aid in the struggle.”

  Despite Rathma’s indifferent tone, Uldyssian felt every fiber of his being go taut. “What is it?”

  “It is,” the ancient being said with a sigh, “what it has been. My mother. Lilith. I underestimated her. She has adapted once again…”

  “What? What has she done?”

  Rathma’s gaze shifted to Mount Arreat. “She has gained control of your edyrem, of course.”

  And before Uldyssian could respond…they both vanished from Bul-Kathos’s side.

  Twelve

  Mendeln worried about his brother. He had no idea where Uldyssian had vanished to and the being called Trag’Oul was of no help whatsoever.

  He is where he must be, just as you are where you must be, the dragon had each time answered to his question.

  Where Mendeln was bothered him almost as much as the location of his sibling. He no longer stood in the empty darkness that seemed Trag’Oul’s domain, but rather in a wasteland, a place where there had been much carnage long, long ago.

  The landscape and sky were utterly gray and not the slightest hint of wind graced his cheek. Dust covered what Mendeln assumed were ancient buildings of some sort, buildings scattered far from one another. They all bore some similarity to one another, though. Some stood nearly whole, others were barely skeletons. In addition to the buildings, there were also signs that this place had been rich in tall trees and other flora as well. Now, though, there were only the petrified traces of that once lush time. Every plant, however, great or small, had perished at the same time that this settlement had come to ruin.