He examined them carefully thinking perhaps that some scavenger had discovered the corpse and had scattered the bones as it feasted. This thought was soon proved false. He could see no signs that the bones had been gnawed upon and broken open for the marrow as a wild beast would have done. He knew then that this man had met a fiend here in the darkness, a fiend which had torn him apart and had scattered the bloody remains all over the floor of the passage.
Asgoleth was no stranger to bloody and violent death but he shuddered at the savagery that had been inflicted upon this fellow. He could imagine the man’s terror as the foul night weird that guarded the jewel had fallen upon him here in this lightless place. In his mind’s eye he envisioned the short, savage struggle as the man, knowing he was doomed, fought with whatever had come out of the darkness to claim his life in such a hideous manner. He heard the shrieks of the victim as he was ripped apart, saw the blood spurt blackly, heard the dull, wet, thuds as the torn body fell and imagined the terrible satisfaction of the inhuman guardian as it returned to its lair to await its next victim.
He stood there among the grisly remains and felt dread trickle down his spine. He feared no mortal enemy but this was black devilry. Then he cursed as the torch he held began to gutter low. He fumbled in his haste to free another torch from the bundle on his back and relight it from the one that was dying. He did not want to be left in darkness to face whatever lay ahead.
As the new torch burned brightly he shook his head, angry at himself. He had almost allowed himself to give in to fear and fear was the worst enemy a warrior could have. If a man lost his faith in his own ability then he was already defeated even before he met his foe.
Lifting his sword he felt the weight and power that lay dormant within the mighty blade and he grinned wolfishly. This demon, though a creature of ancient magic, was yet composed of earthly elements and as such it could be killed. It would find that Asgoleth of Calthia was no terrified wretch, too frightened to fight well. The thing might defeat him but, by Ragnar, it would pay a heavy price for its victory. Grimly, sword ready, he advanced into the menacing gloom
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Demos watched Asgoleth vanish into the blackness of the passage and smiled coldly as General Valshin, the commander of his personal guard said,
‘Do you think he will succeed, my lord? Can we trust him?’
‘Oh we can trust him to try, Valshin. He desires the freedom of his princess and he believes that this is the way to obtain it. It matters little though whether he succeeds or not. I have plenty of men and one of them will succeed if he fails.’
Valshin looked at Demos in fear. He himself was a hard and cruel man but his cruelty was as nothing compared to the wickedness he felt emanating from his master. He knew that Demos would think nothing of sacrificing thousands of lives to attain his ends. He fell silent and they both watched the entranceway in silence.
After a time, Demos grew bored and turned back towards his tent.
‘Inform me at once should the barbarian reappear, Valshin. If he has not done so by noon then you must select another to go in.’
Valshin bowed and replied,
‘It shall be done, my lord.’
Demos nodded and turned away and as he did so his eye fell upon the princess Amira and he grinned. He had some time to kill and she would provide some delightful entertainment while he waited for the Calthian to return. Soon now her usefulness would be at an end and he would have to destroy her. He knew that back in Torr there were still some who believed that they could rise up again to destroy him and replace their royal family upon the throne. They would find that a little difficult to do when he had Amira, the last of the line of Aractus, publicly executed as a sacrifice to Balzar. But that was the future; the present was what interested him now.
He laughed as he caught her eye. She knew what he intended to do and a moan of horror escaped her lips but that was her only sign of defiance against him. Helplessly she followed him inside the tent and General Valshin shuddered and moved away as the sobbing screams began once more
CHAPTER TWELVE
As he went deeper and deeper into the tunnel Asgoleth noticed that the shaft he followed had begun to slope gently downwards. The darkness enveloped him now and sucked at the light of the torch as if seeking to put it out. There was no room in this place for things of the outer world of light and life and he felt that he was walking into a grim and hopeless underworld where the spirits of the dead roamed in despair and misery. He snarled at these thoughts, banishing them from his mind as being unworthy of a warrior and taking a firmer grip upon the hilt of his great sword, he walked on with firm tread. If he met up with any of them he would give them something to moan about.
Ahead of him he caught sight of a faint metallic glitter and as he drew nearer he saw that the passageway was blocked by a heavy bronze door set firmly into the rock. About the base of the door he saw more human bones. Carefully he edged forward and examined them. They were crushed and splintered as if a great weight had fallen upon them and with a curse he stepped back and glared up at the roof to see what manner of death awaited the unwary there.
Dimly he could see a deep square shaft that vanished up into the darkness above. Leaning carefully he thrust his torch into the shaft and saw a massive block of stone suspended within, waiting to fall upon any who walked beneath. He cursed again, if his keen eyes had not spotted the dimly glimmering and splintered bones; he too would have been crushed beneath that huge block of masonry. It seemed there were more than demons to fear in this terrible place.
He glared back at the floor, somewhere there must be a triggering device. If he could find it he might be able to disarm the trap. Finally he made out the outline of a slab of rock that exactly matched the width of the shaft above. The whole floor then was a trigger and it extended for a distance of at least fifteen paces and ended in a narrow ledge of stone at the base of the bronze door. If he wished to continue his quest he would have to find a way across to the door without touching the floor.
The only way he could do so was to try and leap across the intervening space and try to wedge himself into the door frame. It looked as if it would be wide enough to protect him from the falling stone if his foot should touch the floor. Once there he would find a way to open the door. Cursing Demos, he walked back along the passage then turned and began to run.
He reached the edge of the trap and the muscles of his powerful legs launched him into the air. The force of the drop carried him across the gap but the space between the edge of the trigger and the door itself was too narrow for him to land on properly. His foot slipped off the sill and he felt the floor move slightly beneath him. He knew he had triggered the trap when he heard a rasping grumble from above. Desperately he jammed his fingers into the stone on either side of the doorway, dropping both his sword and his torch as he did so. His fingernails scrabbled against the rough stone and he felt them break and splinter as he sought for a grip to pull himself forward. Then he caught hold of a slight projection and using all his strength he flattened himself against the cold bronze of the door.
He was just in time, another second and he would have been crushed by that awful mass of killing rock and his bones would have lain in this gloomy place forever. As the rock crashed down he felt the bundle of torches upon his back being ripped away along with a goodly portion of his skin.
Trapped between the rock and the door he cursed as his eyes filled with dust and his ears with the booming reverberations of the falling rock. If the demon that guarded this place had been unaware of his presence before, then it certainly would know he was there now. He tensed as he felt movement behind him then grinned as he realised that the rock was returning to its original position to await its next victim. Slowly it rose back up into the gloomy shadows above until it locked in place. Carefully, taking great care not to slip off the door sill, he began to run his fingers over the bronze door in front of him searching for a way through it.
Years o
f dampness had taken their toll upon the door frame and the ancient wood had rotted and crumbled until the door was left standing without any real support. Asgoleth grinned and began to push against it. His muscles bulged with the effort of pushing against the door in the cramped area of safety but at last he gave a loud grunt of satisfaction as the heavy door, with a squeal of protest, moved slightly backwards. Again he pushed, exerting all his strength and the door twisted and toppled backwards with a mighty crash.
At once he was bathed in a dazzling glow of red light from the chamber beyond. Aware that he must be providing a good target for anyone or anything within he leapt high into the air and threw himself forward into the chamber. His sword lay behind him in the passageway but he still had his broad double edged dagger which he drew in a swift fluid movement. He rolled and jumped quickly to his feet, ready for battle but nothing happened.
He saw that he red glow was emanating from a huge crystal which lay upon a stone dais at the far end of the chamber. It looked like a ruby but no ruby he had ever seen, and he had seen many, had ever glowed with such an unearthly light as did this gem. This then was the fabled Heart of Ra, the stone for which so many had died.
Warily he advanced towards the gem, aware of the bones of men that littered the floor. In the dust he could see the footprints of those men and mingled with them the prints of something else, something huge and misshapen, something inhuman.
He moved on across the chamber, every sense alert for movement but nothing disturbed him and at last he stood over the blazing jewel itself. It was a magnificent thing and his eyes were drawn deep into its ruby depths. Never had he seen such a fabulous gem and he knew that on all the wide Earth it had no twin. It was unique and beautiful and it had cost countless men their lives down the centuries.
This time though he would use it to save a life, that of the princess Amira. As he stared at the jewel a plan began to form in his mind. It was a simple plan but it just might work. He grinned and reached out for the precious stone.
Just as his fingers closed around it some instinct warned him that he was no longer alone in the chamber. He hurled himself sideways just as a large black shape hurtled past him and crashed into the stone dais. As he rolled to his feet the stone slipped from his fingers and clattered off into a corner. In its eerie red light he at last beheld the demon that guarded the jewel.
The thing stood half as tall again as he was. Its body was vaguely human looking but its hands and feet tapered off into savage looking claws and talons and its head was that of a vicious beast. A long snout armed with sharp teeth jutted forward from below eyes that were large and red and which held a terrible, malevolent, intelligence.
All this he saw as the thing recovered from its wasted charge then, to his horror, the thing began to speak and he shuddered as he heard human speech issuing from that bestial snout. Its voice was harsh and grating and full of a terrible joy as it said,
‘So another foolish and greedy mortal has come here to die. It has been long since any have dared to enter my abode. I shall enjoy rending you limb from limb mortal and as you lie dying your last sight shall be of me devouring your own flesh.’
With a roar the creature launched itself again at the young barbarian, claws outstretched and fangs gaping. Asgoleth did not wait for it to reach him, he knew he would have little chance against it should it manage to grapple with him. Instead he too launched himself forward and as the demon passed over him he lunged upwards with his dagger, putting all of his strength behind the stroke. The long blade sank to the hilt in the monsters flesh and thick, black, blood sprayed over the barbarians arm and face. The guardian howled in pain as it crashed to the floor and writhed there in agony and as it did so a fierce exultation flowed through the Calthian. He knew now that this thing could be killed, just like any other beast of flesh and blood.
He threw his head back and yelled his wild war cry as the guardian lurched back onto its misshapen feet. Filled with rage and bloodlust it charged the puny human who had inflicted such pain upon it. Never in all the long centuries of its existence had any mortal managed to strike it. Always they had stood, numbed with horror, until it was too late. This one however had caused it pain and for that it would die as none of the others had. They had perished quickly but this one would linger long before it was granted the mercy of death.
Asgoleth watched the guardian as it charged clumsily towards him then with expert timing, he leapt high into the air. As he jumped he slashed downwards with his blade and once more the creature howled as the knife sank deeply into its back. A massive clawed hand lashed out and despite Asgoleth's speed he was caught by the blow and sent hurtling across the chamber to crash heavily into the rough hewn stone wall. Momentarily stunned he slid to the floor and then the monster was upon him.
Across the floor they rolled in a tangle of arms and legs with the monsters jaws snapping in front of Asgoleth's face. Only the mighty strength of the young barbarians arm kept those fangs at bay. Cursing and snarling Asgoleth fought on, every bit as savage as the inhuman thing he battled.
In the hideous red light claws and teeth gleamed and steel flashed as Asgoleth's blade rose and fell, sinking into flesh with every blow. He was amazed at the terrible vitality of the brute. Already it had taken enough punishment to kill ten men but still it battled on with undiminished vigour and he knew that if it did not die soon he was finished. He could feel his arm begin to weaken and saw the things teeth edging nearer to his throat. If they reached their target it would be all over. Grimly he fought on putting all of his remaining strength behind his blade, seeking some vital spot within the thing.
Again and again he stabbed and all the time those deadly fangs drew nearer. Then, suddenly, the guardian grunted and Asgoleth saw agony and astonishment in its baleful red eyes followed by a terrible fear. The guardian gave a coughing gasp and blood sprayed from its mouth. It stiffened and Asgoleth tore himself free from its weakening grasp and sprang backwards. He raised his dagger, ready to stab out once again but then he saw that the battle was over.
The guardian lay on the floor, writhing in its death throes in a widening pool of blood. Its mouth open in a silent scream of agony and rage as it prepared to travel the same road down which it had sent so many before it. Its red eyes glittered with malevolent hatred as it gazed upon its slayer and then the light in those eyes slowly faded away until, with a final shudder, the huge body slumped and lay still as death finally claimed it.
Asgoleth stood, chest heaving and looked down upon his fallen enemy. Then he stiffened with horror as he watched the monsters body, no longer protected by ancient spells to ward off times ravages, crumble swiftly into decay and dust.
Wearily he retrieved the Heart of Ra from the corner of the chamber then turned and looked at the entrance. He saw his sword lying upon the trigger mechanism and saw that the blade was snapped. He growled deep in his throat at the sight. It had been a good weapon and had served him well for a long time. He would make Demos pay for its loss.
One monster lay slain at his back but he knew that yet another still awaited him outside and the sooner he dealt with it the better it would be for everyone. Wasting no more time he sprang through the doorway and landed safely on the other side of the trigger mechanism. He glanced back regretfully at his shattered sword then, with a grim scowl upon his face; he turned and began to walk back towards the light.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Demos smiled as the bloodied and battered figure of the barbarian stumbled back out into the light of day. The savage looked weary unto death but Demos cared nothing for that. All of his attention was focused on the glowing jewel the Calthian held in his hand.
Excitement coursed through him at the sight of the gem. There lay the key to power beyond his dreams and it was now his for the taking. He strode forward so quickly that his guards had to run to keep up with him and in mere moments he stood in front of the swaying, blood smeared barbarian.
‘The gem, savage!’ he snapped.
‘Give it to me.’
Asgoleth raised his head and looked him in the eye then slowly raised his hand. The Heart of Ra gleamed and shone in the light of day and all eyes were upon it, except for those of Amira. She stood, staring vacantly into space and for the moment she was unwatched. It was time to put his plan into action.
Asgoleth drew back his arm and hurled the gem straight into the tyrants face. Demos had seen the determination in Asgoleth's eyes and threw up his arm just in time to deflect the gem as it hurtled towards him. The move saved his skull from being crushed but he screamed as the bones in his arm snapped under the impact of the blow. In his haste to seize the gem he had neglected to erect his protective shield and now he was paying the price in pain for his lapse. He leapt swiftly back, away from the barbarian and Asgoleth took full advantage of the confusion he had caused among the tyrants guards.
As soon as the gem had flown from his fingers he ripped his dagger free of its sheath and leapt to the attack. Once, twice, three times his blade flashed and three Akonites fell dying to the stony ground. He snatched a sword from a falling warrior and pushed the body roughly away. He grinned as the body fell heavily upon Demos causing the broken bones in his arm to grate painfully together. Demos cried out and Asgoleth laughed as he ran on. This would teach the Akonite wizard that just because a man looked bloody and beaten it did not mean that he was.
He charged on, invincible in his blood caked savagery. His sword and dagger ruthlessly cut down those that tried to bar his way until at last he reached Amira. For a brief moment he considered putting an end to her misery then discarded the idea. He had vowed to rescue her and he would do so. There was however, no possibility of allowing her to fall back into Akonite hands. If he had to he would slay her to prevent it. He hoped that that would not be necessary.
Asgoleth The Warrior: A Modern Tale of Sword And Sorcery (fantasy fiction books) Page 9