Scales of the Serpent

by Richard A. Knaak

  To her captive audience, Serenthia offered the same as Uldyssian, but not immediately. The Hashiri had witnessed the might of the foreigners and so not a few were tempted. Yet, Serenthia did not show even those the way, although she among all the edyrem should have been able to do so.

  Instead, in the very temple they had conquered and even as the bodies of the priests fed some of the local birds, good Romus found himself summoned for an audience with the master’s first acolyte. He had no idea what Serenthia wanted of him, save that, if Uldyssian were no more—as was the rumor vilely spreading through the ranks—then she was their only hope of not only continuing on, but even merely surviving.

  Serenthia had taken for her temporary quarters those of the local high priest. Romus, who had always been poor even when he had been a brigand, could only marvel at the silken wall coverings and gold-laced tapestries as he entered. Some of the regret that he had had for the harshness of the edyrem’s actions in Hashir faded as he considered the Triune’s massive, ill-gotten wealth.

  A moment later, he stopped short. Serenthia lay stretched across a reclining couch, her gaze on a parchment in her hands. Her long, lush hair cascaded down her shoulders and even enshrouded part of her face. She was a breathtaking sight to behold even in her battle-worn garments, especially to Romus, who had been infatuated by Serenthia almost since the first he had seen her in the Parthan square.

  He finally managed to clear his throat, which made her immediately glance up.

  “Romus!” The smile that lit up her face kindled the fire in his heart. Had Serenthia asked him to singlehandedly fight a pack of the savage creatures called morlu, he would have willingly leapt into the fray. “I feared you wouldn’t come!”

  “How could I not, mistress? Anytime, for anything, all you need do is call and faithful Romus will rush to obey…”

  She sat up. “How poetic! But come! Why are you standing all the way over there by the doorway?” Serenthia patted the couch. “Join me here!”

  Bowing low, he hastened to approach. At the couch itself, the onetime thief hesitated, but again Serenthia smiled and patted it.

  He seated himself, leaving a respectful space between them. Romus looked at his mistress and immediately found his gaze captivated by her glittering green eyes. A small part of him vaguely wondered why he had once thought them blue. Surely, he could not have been so mistaken…

  “Romus…you were one of those closest to Uldyssian besides myself.”

  It took him a moment to notice the past tense. “We’ll find him, we will, mistress! Have no fear of that!”

  She shook her head. “No, dear, loyal Romus…even though I’ve said so to the people, I don’t think we will. Like his brother, I fear Uldyssian’s lost to us forever!”

  It was unthinkable. The master had defeated terrible demons and legions of warriors! Nothing could take him so easily…and yet…

  “Some say…mistress…some say that they saw his brother near him just before he vanished…perhaps…”

  “A disguise, like that worn by the two monsters who attacked me.” Serenthia shuddered, which made Romus want to comfort her in his arms. “No, a demon took Uldyssian, of that I’m certain.” Her green eyes bore deeper into his. “One almost took me even. Before Hashir.”

  He was aghast. “Mistress! When?”

  “In the jungle. When Uldyssian ordered us across the river. You recall?”

  “Aye…” Romus gritted his teeth. In some ways, it bothered him even more that she had nearly been taken than it did that Uldyssian was now missing. He found it impossible to imagine the edyrem without her.

  “Uldyssian…and even Mendeln…protected me then. Since they vanished, I’ve worked as hard as I can to protect everyone else, but…I must tell you something, for your ears alone, dear Romus.”

  “What? What?” Without realizing it, he slid closer until they were nearly touching.

  “I am afraid. Afraid. I can protect the others, but who is there now to protect me?”

  The answer escaped him before he realized how it sounded. “Me! I’ll always be there to protect you, mistress!”

  Before his face could redden too much from shame, Serenthia suddenly put a soft hand to his cheek. She smiled. “You would? Would you really, Romus?”

  It all began pouring out. “I’d give my life and soul for you, mistress! I’d stand against all the powers of the Triune! I could never let anything happen to you!”

  He expected her to throw him out for daring to speak so when it was evident to all how much the master had meant to her.

  And yet…

  “Romus…” Serenthia whispered, her lips so close that he was nearly ready to sacrifice his life just to kiss them once. “Romus…you’ve no idea how much that means to me…”

  She caressed his cheek again, then, almost reluctantly, leaned back. The former brigand was unable to stop himself from exhaling sharply.

  “If you mean what you say…and I so very much hope that you do…this gives me another idea…”

  Still recovering from before, Romus managed only a grunt of inquisitiveness.

  “You know how Uldyssian introduced others to the gift. But with me, he delved deeper…and that’s why I think that my abilities grew faster than anyone else’s.”

  “Very likely, very likely,” he replied, glad to have a safe subject to discuss.

  “I think…no…I know…how he did it. They were private moments, when he could focus on me alone. You did notice that there were times when he and I were gone for hours?”

  Romus recalled some such periods and felt for the first time a jealousy that the master had been able to partake in them with the woman before him. “Yes…mistress…”

  “Good!” Her eyes seemed to glow brighter than the torches in the chamber warranted. “Will you do me the honor of doing as Uldyssian did with me? It’ll mean hours together, for which I apologize, but with both him and Mendeln gone, someone else must step up…and I suppose you could better protect me while I protect you…”

  He could hardly deny her. “I’m yours, mistress. To my very soul, I’m yours. Teach me, if you think me worthy…”

  “I find you very worthy,” Serenthia returned in what from any other woman would have sounded coy to Romus. Not the mistress, though. Not her.

  Steeling himself, the brigand finally tore his gaze from hers. She wanted him merely as a fellow comrade, nothing more. Everything that she had suggested made perfect sense; Romus should have felt honored for that alone. If the master was indeed never returning, as she clearly believed, the least that his loyal follower could do was to see that his legacy lived on.

  Feeling better about his decision, Romus bowed his head. “When shall we start, mistress?”

  Her smile curled higher. “Why not now?”

  “Now?” He thought quickly. “Saron and some of the others’ll need to know, mistress, so they can do without me…”

  “They are capable of that already. You need go and tell them nothing…not even after tonight…”

  Her hands went to his and when she touched them, a flush went through Romus. Trying to recover, he looked to the doors and only then noticed that they were shut.

  “I want us alone…the better to concentrate,” Serenthia explained. “You understand the need for privacy, don’t you?”

  “Yes…yes, mistress…”

  She giggled, which caused his face to again flush. “And one more thing, dear Romus…” Her fingers intertwined with his. “You need never call me ’mistress’…”

  Thirteen

  It sounded to Uldyssian as if something immense was breathing.

  The cavern in which he and Rathma stood stretched so high that the stalactites forming above had managed to grow many times the length of a man. The stalagmites had done fair, too, rising like squat giants from the floor.

  Ulydssian felt as if he stood in the mouth of a hungry beast. The “breathing” only added to that disconcerting sensation.

  It was th
e stalactites and stalagmites that were also the source of illumination for the tremendous chamber, for radiating from deep within each was a ghostly crimson light whose source he could only imagine. While he was grateful for their brightness, they, too, contributed to Uldyssian’s overwhelming sense of unease.

  “This is as far as I can risk bringing us by other than physical means,” Rathma commented with his usual detachment. “You can sense why, I think.”

  But now that he was getting over his astonishment at where he and his undesired companion had just materialized, what Rathma had proclaimed just before their arrival once more seized hold of Uldyssian.

  Lilith had control of the edyrem…

  Stirred anew by anger, he seized Rathma by the collar of his cloak. “What did you mean by what you said before?” Uldyssian growled as he shook the demoness’s son. “How did it happen? How did she do it?”

  “You refer to my mother and her usurping of your followers,” the other said needlessly. “She is cunning and keeps herself well shielded, but I have gradually considered that she must have possessed the woman Serenthia at some point when she was out of your sight in all ways. From there, it was a simple task to—”

  Head pounding, Uldyssian roughly released Lilith’s son as he thought of just when it might have been that the demoness had taken the merchant’s daughter. One incident immediately came to mind. Serenthia had gone to get water and for once, he had not used his abilities to monitor her. She had bent behind the lush plants and…and a moment later had gasped.

  And fool that he had been, Uldyssian had taken her response to his concern at face value. He had forgotten the twisted ways of Lilith…

  “Serenthia…” he whispered. “It can’t be…she can’t be dead…”

  “And she is not.”

  Confusion, hope, and distrust warred for mastery over Uldyssian. “What do you mean? It’s Master Ethon and his son all over again! That foul witch wears Serry’s skin like a damned dress! She slaughtered her then stripped her of her flesh!”

  Rathma shook his head. “No…for the game my mother’s chosen to play, she cannot disguise herself so. Such a technique, while definitely demonic in nature, allows only a limited ability. Enough to fool some priests or household servants for a time, but not for extended periods and needs. For this, Lilith required a more careful, more delicate touch. She has literally had to make herself and the woman one. My mother is like a haunting spirit that now guides each movement of the body, yet your Serenthia is still within, but very, very deep asleep.”

  Uldyssian’s heart, which had felt to him a moment before as if it had ceased beating, now pounded with renewed life. “Then, she’s all right? If we can cast out Lilith, Serenthia will be herself again?”

  “That, I cannot promise, son of Diomedes. Her slumber must be very strong, so that Lilith can also have some access to her memories and thus better perpetuate the lie. Even if my mother is ousted, I cannot in full honesty promise that your friend will be restored.”

  “I should’ve never been taken from Hashir! I’ve got to go to her immediately, then! Send me from this place or show me how to do it myself!”

  But Rathma remained steadfast. “Had you been left in the situation from which we took you, you would have at this point been nothing more than a shell acting on Lilith’s behalf. She is constantly altering her plots as the moment invites, hence the difficulty of predicting her next move. Having taken the woman’s body and seeing the foolish attack by whoever in turn played her role as Primus, she obviously decided that you could not be trusted to lead as she wanted. In fact, my mother is the reason that you were so weakened at the last moment. Clad as someone so dear to you, you let her through much of your guard. She infiltrated your body and soul, manipulating your thoughts and actions. If we had not taken you when we had, Hashir would have proven the point where Lilith took utter mastery over you, as well, Uldyssian.”

  “So, instead she has it over Serenthia and the others,” Uldyssian retorted. “Your help seems more trouble for me than it’s worth…”

  Rathma acknowledged his comment with a slight tilt of his head, adding, “I have erred much too much. I agree. But alone you would have fallen quickly to her. There is still opportunity to remedy this, if you will just listen.”

  “Serenthia—”

  “Will be lost forever if you try to separate her from Lilith at this juncture. As distasteful as I, too, find it, my mother must be given her free hand for the moment. But only for the moment.”

  Such a vile thought did not sit at all well with Uldyssian. He could not imagine what would become of Serenthia and the rest under the wicked guidance of the demoness. Yet, he had to admit that confronting Lilith would be a monumental task; how could he keep from injuring or possibly even slaying Serenthia?

  “What can we do?” he finally demanded of the pale figure. “Tell me that, at least!”

  Rathma gestured ahead to where a passage at the far end beckoned. “We can go on to where we should.”

  It was the sort of answer that Uldyssian had unfortunately expected. Still, as much as possible, he intended that matters would from here on go as he wanted. With that in mind, he strode off at a quick pace past the other.

  Taller and longer of leg, Rathma quickly caught up to him. Lilith’s son then kept pace, perhaps trying to make Uldyssian not feel so guided.

  They journeyed through a mazelike series of corridors that someone had meticulously carved out long, long ago. The corridors had no illumination, but Rathma pulled free his dagger, uttered a word in the strange tongue he had used previous, and suddenly the blade shone. Because of that alone, Uldyssian finally fell back a step behind his companion.

  As they made their way, Uldyssian could not help but feel that someone or something watched them. He did not broach the subject with Rathma, for fear of the answer that the other might give. Uldyssian had enough with which to concern himself already.

  After what seemed the dozenth meandering passage, Rathma finally looked back at him. “We are nearly there. I ask that you pay careful attention to yourself…”

  The black-clad figure did not clarify what he meant. Uldyssian resolved to continue to keep on his guard. What else could he do? The breathing sound that he had first heard in the outer cavern was not so loud it pounded in his ears. Whatever it was that they sought, it was very likely also the source of the ominous sound.

  Then, but a few steps after Rathma’s warning, what felt like a wave of intense heat washed over Uldyssian. Yet, the heat rolled through him from within, not without. He felt his pulse quicken and all his concerns—Serenthia, Mendeln, the edyrem, and the rest—magnified at least a thousandfold. His step faltered and it was all he could do to smother a moan.

  Ahead, Rathma continued on as if unmindful of his plight. That only upset Uldyssian more. How could the fool not see that they wasted their time, that they faced insurmountable hurdles? How could he—

  Rathma’s warning came back to him. Shaking with effort, Uldyssian forced away the rising fears, the worries…and suddenly the heat within dissipated.

  “You are better again?” the cowled figure asked without looking back.

  “You could’ve given better warning than you did!”

  Still facing the path before them, Rathma shook his head. “No, regrettably, I could not.”

  Uldyssian might have argued that, but then a faint red gleam arose from the far end of the corridor. At the same time, there came a sound like shattering glass that reverberated through the passage. Uldyssian stepped up next to Rathma, who slowed his own pace.

  “Stay near me when we enter the chamber. Our way is not completely clear.”

  “Not even for you?”

  “This place is of my father’s making.”

  His words were punctuated by another loud crash. Keeping wary, Uldyssian did as he was bade. His pulse raced again and although he knew that it had to do with what lay farther on, he was unable to calm himself.

  “What i
s it?” Uldyssian finally had to ask.

  “The making and unmaking of us. Inarius’s ultimate yoke for humanity. You shall see…”

  As they drew closer, the crimson gleam—and the slow but incessant breathing—grew even more pronounced. Whatever lay within the chamber glittered as bright as a sun. Rathma muttered something and his dagger dulled. However, Lilith’s son did not put the weapon away.

  “Be wary…” Rathma warned as they reached the end of the corridor. “Take each step slowly.”

  Together, they entered the new cavern. However, immediately the light became so glaring that even when Uldyssian shielded his eyes, it was impossible to see beyond his own feet.

  And then—“We are under attack!”

  The warning from Rathma barely came in time. A high-pitched squeal almost deafened Uldyssian. Acting on instinct, he immediately created a barrier above him.

  There was a heavy thump and an angry shriek. Uldyssian heard the flapping of wings. It was swiftly followed by scratching and more squealing. He was under assault by more than one of the foul creatures.

  Uldyssian spun around so that he faced the tunnel. That enabled him to just barely see. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of a leathery wing.

  From elsewhere, Rathma called out. Uldyssian did not understand him and so assumed that the ancient figure was casting some sort of spell. That reminded him that he, too, supposedly had fantastic abilities. Swearing under his breath, Uldyssian listened for the next approaching attacker.

  The sound of wings from his left was all that he needed. He thrust a hand in that direction.

  Whatever flew at him let out another squeal. Whether this was designed to shatter his eardrums or for some other reason, Uldyssian now used the cry against the creature. He repelled the squeal, letting it strike back with several times its original intensity.