Demon Lord III - Grey God

by T C Southwell

  The dwindling supply of grain and salted meat in the town's community storehouse was rationed, and everyone's belly was empty. Shevra did not believe in dark creatures. They were figments of people's imagination, conjured up by the gloom, the ash storms and the black rain that turned it to sludge. Was it not bad enough that the children had to play in ash and soot, and daytime was barely lighter than night, but people had to make up horror stories as well? At least their lake remained pure, despite the ash falls.

  Derrin had split the water globes into many tiny drops now, and they drifted around his head in a wavering figure of eight, glinting in the dull red light. A grin wreathed his handsome, boyish face, and his green eyes shone with glee as he watched the shining droplets fly. Shevra smiled and reached for the fire that burnt beside her, causing it to leap and flare. She was a master fire dancer, recently elevated by her town elders after she had passed all her tests. As such, she should have been earning a good living at fairs and shows, but such things were also no more than legends now. She still lived with her parents, who survived on the charity of the cities, like everyone else.

  It saddened them, particularly her father, who longed to be able to provide for his family. There was no shame in it, for few possessed a trade, and those were only blacksmithing, tailoring and midwifery. A few coppers circulated amongst the townsfolk through them, but it was pitifully little. The supplies handed out each moon were bartered so that a woman could purchase a new pot with a cup of grain, or a man could buy a new shirt with a hank of cloth that he had received from the supplies. Thus it had always been for her and Derrin.

  Shevra raised a gush of flame from the fire, causing it to hover beside her, then split it into many flames and made them spin around her in a bright circle. Fire dancing was more difficult than water dancing, since fire was a more tenuous element, and needed to be fed. The trick was to make it feed on the air itself, and that was no mean feat, as she had discovered in her youth.

  Some fire dancers could do no more than draw sweeps of flame from a wood fire, and remained journeymen. Only a master could sustain the flames in the air. Shevra walked over to Derrin and stopped before him, making her flames join his droplets in their dance, turning his almost invisible chain of water into a glimmering string of diamonds. He laughed in delight, entranced by the beauty that they had created together.

  Shevra grinned and began the slow, graceful movements of a fire dance, raising her arms so that her fingers almost brushed the flames. Normally she would have run her hands through them, but the water prevented her. Even so, the combination of fire and water dance was exquisite, and she knew that they would get a lot of applause for it, if little else. Derrin, growing bold, began to emulate her movements, and for a moment they moved together with sinuous grace.

  Inevitably, however, since he was still only an apprentice, the combination became too much for his concentration, and he lost his grip on the water. This time they both got a drenching, and Shevra gasped as the cold liquid splashed over her. She extinguished her flames and stepped back, wiping water from her face and laughing. Derrin laughed with her, soaked again, but happy that he had done so well this time.

  Shevra mopped her face with her skirt. "That's just what I needed, Derrin. I'll catch a cold, and Mother will be furious."

  "Now you know how I feel!"

  "If I'd wanted a shower, I'd have said so."

  He chuckled. "Well you need one!"

  "I do not!" She aimed a playful slap at him, and he skipped away, giggling, then stretched a hand towards the lake again.

  "Don't you dare!" Shevra yelled, going after him. Derrin laughed and raced away along the path that led to the town, Shevra in hot pursuit. They arrived in the gloomy village panting and giggling, but sobered under the glum stares of the people who sat listlessly in their doorways, staring into the darkness. Shevra went straight to her house, where she found her mother bent over a tub of soapy water, scrubbing clothes. Andira glanced up at her with a smile, taking in her bedraggled appearance.

  "Have you been playing with Derrin again?"

  "Practising."

  "I see he still hasn't got the hang of it yet."

  "He's getting better."

  Andira resumed her scrubbing. "You'd better get out of that wet dress and start the dinner."

  "There's food?"

  "A little." Andira glanced at an empty hook above the fireplace, where a large brass pot used to hang.

  "Where's Father?"

  "With his friends."

  Shevra went into her bedroom to change. Her father spent most of his days playing board games with other jobless men. She shucked her wet dress and pulled on a dry one, returning to the kitchen to begin the supper. A small bag of grain waited on the scrubbed table, and she sighed. Porridge again, with a little salt, if they were lucky. She set a pot of water on the fire and sat down.

  "What do you think has happened to the supply wagons?"

  Andira glanced up. "Probably broken down somewhere."

  "For three days?"

  "Could be."

  "I thought they carried spare parts?"

  "They do." Andira wrung out a faded shirt and added it to the pile beside her.

  "Then why would it take three days to repair it?"

  "How should I know? Go and fetch more wood for the fire, your father brought a new load today."

  Shevra rose and went outside to the wood stack, gathering an armload and returning to dump it beside the fire. Her father's sole contribution to the household chores was going to the dead forest to cut wood. The remains of the forests, however, were far away now, and it took an entire day to fetch a load. Shevra sat down again.

  "Could the dark creatures have taken the wagons, if the tales about them are true?"

  Andira glanced sharply at her. "They're not."

  "But if they were, and they've taken the supplies, we'll all starve, won't we?"

  "No. We would go to a city."

  "I thought we weren't allowed?"

  Andira sighed, wringing out a ragged dress. "We're not, the cities are overcrowded already, but they won't turn us away if the alternative is death."

  "But if there are dark creatures, would we be able to reach a city?"

  "Enough about dark creatures now. They don't exist, so stop worrying about them."

  "People used to believe that Vorkar didn't exist, but he does."

  Andira began to drag the tub of dirty water to the door, and Shevra went to help her. "Just because Vorkar exists, doesn't mean that the dark creatures do," her mother stated. "No one's ever seen one."

  "No one's ever seen Vorkar either, or Drayshina."

  "They're gods; the dark creatures are just a myth."

  "But -"

  "Enough now, Shevra."

  Chapter Twelve

  Shadow Storm

  Bane drifted up from a deep, enervating sleep, his eyes heavy, limbs leaden and head pounding. Sitting up, he summoned a cup of ambrosia to slake his thirst and hunger, grimacing and rubbing his brow. Kayos sat watching him with the mixture of doubt and wonder that Bane was starting to find annoying.

  "How do you feel?"

  Bane shrugged and winced as his head protested. "Like a troll is trying to hammer his way out of the back of my skull."

  The Grey God rose and laid his hand upon Bane's temple, soothing the headache after a brief struggle with the dark power, then waved his couch out of existence.

  "I shall find the priestess."

  "What do we need her for?"

  "I will need an introduction to this Blue Council. For a strange god to appear in their midst, unannounced, would be a terrible shock. I will meet them and explain what is to happen, then introduce you. Their reaction to your presence will be far worse than to mine." Kayos hesitated. "I would ask you not to reveal yourself until the appropriate moment."

  "Of course. I would not want them to die of shock."

  Kayos pondered the young dark god. Ordinary humans would not be able to
tell him apart from one of them; only another god could see the aura of power that surrounded him, although a blue mage or a seer might also sense it. The dark power was starting to affect Bane, for he was becoming increasingly irritable. Soon it would be time for him to cast it out for a while, to recover his humanity. Although it could not corrupt him, it did influence him, and the longer he carried it the worse he would become.

  Bane seemed unaware of his scrutiny, and sat with his head bowed, the cup of ambrosia forgotten in his hand. His pallor was pronounced, and he looked tired and lacklustre, from which Kayos deduced that he was still suffering from the after effects of his battle with Vorkon.

  "I think you should rest today."

  Bane raised his head. "I am well enough."

  "You lost a great deal of blood; you must regain your strength. Some wholesome food will help. I will find someone to attend you."

  Ignoring Bane's glare, he went in search of the high priestess, and encountered a young acolyte in the corridor who guided him to the chapel where the priestesses were at worship.

  Bane looked down as Mirra stirred, opening her eyes to smile up at him before she stretched and sat up. She studied him, reaching up to hook the wing of glossy hair behind his ear so that she could see his face.

  "How do you feel?"

  "Like death warmed up."

  "How badly were you injured?"

  He smiled. "There is no fooling you, is there?"

  "I know the signs. And I know you."

  He shrugged and looked down at his hands, the hair sliding forward to hide his face again. "I would have died."

  She drew a sharp breath, and a look of despair flitted across her face, swiftly hidden. "What happened?"

  Bane related the tale in his usual curt manner, and while he talked, Mithran and Grem woke and drew close to listen. When he had finished, Mirra shook her head in amazement.

  "You met an angel, how wonderful." Her face did not shine with its usual delight however, and her eyes were shadowed with concern.

  "She was a strange creature."

  "I would like to meet her."

  "You probably will." He paused, eyeing her. "You have been very quiet of late."

  "I find Kayos... awe inspiring."

  Mithran nodded. "We all do."

  Bane looked at his father. "But that is not the only reason for your silence, is it?"

  Mithran's eyes slid away. "No."

  "You find me... abhorrent."

  "No!" He shook his head. "Goddess, how can you think such a thing?"

  "Quite easily. It is a natural reaction. I never wanted you to see me like this."

  "I know. I hate what that monster made you into, but in a way I am glad I have seen it. I think I understand you a little better now."

  "Do you?" Bane's mouth twisted. "You have not seen anything yet, Father. It is going to get worse. Ask Mirra, she knows what I am becoming."

  Mirra took his hand. "You are stronger now, Bane. You will never be like that again."

  Bane's eyes grew distant. "It is like a black tide inside me, eating away at me, trying to force me to do its will."

  "It will fail."

  "Probably, but the battle weakens me."

  "Then cast it out when you do not need it."

  He shook his head. "Purging and Gathering weakens me even more."

  Mithran leant forward. "No matter what happens, I will never think any less of you, Son."

  "Nor I," Grem chimed in.

  "Nor I." Mirra smiled and squeezed Bane's hand.

  As Kayos walked into the chapel, the priestesses fell to their knees and prostrated themselves. Radiant blue spheres lit the room, although the clouds outside the stained-glass windows glowed, indicating that it was day. Fiery rain fell amid the shroud of drifting ash, burning on the land like countless red stars. He signalled for the priestesses to rise and walked up the aisle towards the altar, where the high priestess waited, her face creased in a welcoming smile.

  Many of the priestesses held out their hands, yearning to touch him but not daring to, begging instead for him to bless them with his touch. He held out his hands so that they brushed any who could reach them. Those that succeeded clasped their hands to their breasts and closed their eyes in reverence, being touched in turn by those less fortunate. When he reached the altar, the high priestess sank to her knees again, and he gestured for her to rise.

  She gazed at him with adoring eyes. "How may we serve you, great lord?"

  "An introduction to the Blue Council. Also, a priestess named Tarris."

  "It shall be as you wish. Tarris is here amongst us; she arrived while you were resting, seeking sanctuary."

  "Bring her to me."

  A priestess ran out, and the high priestess said, "What is it that you require of Tarris?"

  "She is a witness to the Demon Lord's pact with Drayshina. Her testimony will aid our cause before the council."

  "She said nothing to us."

  "Drayshina swore her to secrecy, as were the rest of her abbey. At the time, Bane's presence was unknown to Vorkon. It was she who persuaded Bane to come to your goddess' aid."

  "Her name will live in legend."

  Kayos smiled. "As will yours, I am certain. What is it?"

  "Forgive me great lord. I am Sharri."

  "Have you standing with the Blue Council, Sharri?"

  "As much as any high priestess, Lord, which is sufficient to get an immediate audience with the Queen, especially in such a time of strife."

  He glanced around at the silent, intent throng. "Tell me about your queen."

  "She is young, Lord, and a powerful blue mage, as are all royalty. Her name is Kyan, and her husband is Prince Tygon, head of the Blue Council."

  "He is the most powerful of the blue mages?"

  "Yes, Lord."

  Kayos nodded. "Then it will fall to him to create the seventh ward."

  Sharri looked stricken, and hung her head.

  "What is it?"

  "Tygon is a wonderful man, Lord. Intelligent, caring and handsome beyond belief, and the Queen loves him more than her own life."

  "But?"

  "I cannot be certain of the truth of such tales, but it is rumoured that he lacks ... courage."

  Kayos frowned. "If that is true it will be unfortunate. The Demon Lord is inclined to inspire fear in even the most stout-hearted."

  "My thoughts exactly."

  "Who is second in the council, and does he possess courage?"

  "Indeed yes, Lord. But that is the Queen herself."

  "I see."

  Sharri shot him a timid look. "She cannot be put in danger."

  "Of course not. Bane will not be pleased."

  Inwardly he cursed, knowing that Bane was more likely to be furious, since the dark power despised even the most courageous humans, a coward would arouse enormous contempt in him.

  Kayos looked up as Tarris entered the chapel and ran forward to prostrate herself at his feet.

  "Rise, child, and be of good cheer," he said.

  She lifted a tear-streaked face. "My lady is enslaved, Lord!"

  "Do not despair, Bane will free her."

  "Will he? It was not part of the bargain."

  "He agreed to cast Vorkon down. After that, freeing her will be a simple matter, I assure you."

  "But he failed!" she wailed, and Sharri hissed in censure.

  "That was only the first attempt, unplanned and ill conceived. He will succeed." Kayos turned away from her despairing gaze. "We go to the Blue Council to enlist their aid, and you are coming with us. But first I require you to attend the Demon Lord. He was wounded in the battle, and he needs nourishing food, a good broth would be ideal. Will you perform this task?"

  "I will be honoured, great lord."

  "Good. See to it then."

  Tarris bowed low, and Kayos strode out as the priestesses fell to their knees. As he walked away down the corridor, they began to sing praises to his name again. Returning to the cramped, bare room, he
found Bane lying down, his eyes closed. Mirra sat with Mithran and Grem on the floor, and they broke off a soft conversation at Kayos' entry. He settled on the chair.

  Bane muttered, "I hope the nursemaid that you found is not some simpering acolyte who will cringe and whimper when she sees me."

  "No. Tarris is here. I asked her to tend you."

  Bane snorted. "She is afraid of me too."

  "I suspect that only your lovely wife is utterly immune to your powers of intimidation, Bane."

  "No. Sometimes she is afraid of me too."

  Kayos glanced at Mirra, who opened her mouth to protest, then closed it and looked away as if remembering something. "Everyone has the ability to instil fear in others at some time, in a fit of rage perhaps."

  "But only I can do it just by breathing."

  "That bothers you, does it not?"

  Bane sighed. "There was a time when I enjoyed it, and soon I will again. It would make a refreshing change to be treated as a normal person."

  "But you are not. How can they, unless they do not know who you are?"

  "Then I wish you would stop telling them."

  Kayos chuckled. "Unfortunately, at the moment it is necessary. They all know that I can do nothing to help Drayshina. You are their only hope."

  "Yet they look at me like I am a monster, not their saviour."

  "That will change as they learn to trust you. It would help if you were a little friendlier."

  The door opened, and Tarris entered carrying a tray laden with bowls of stew and a cloth. She put the tray on the table and took a bowl over to Bane, bowing to him.

  "I brought food for you, Lord."

  Bane raised his head and cast Kayos an impatient glance. "Is this the plan? To shovel food into me?"

  "It will help to restore your strength."

  "I am not hungry."

  Tarris looked nervous. "Would you like to refresh yourself first, Lord? Perhaps that will make you feel better."