by Isaac Hooke
Malem was still stark naked, and he noticed that Xaxia was darting frequent glances at his crotch. It irked him, so he turned partially away.
“I am,” Malem said gruffly.
Her eyes widened. “Your healers can’t help you?”
“It’s something that cannot be healed,” Malem said. “I’ve Broken Vorgon’s future bride. In order for him to bind with her, I must die come morning.”
“Oh,” Xaxia said, the relief evident on her face. “Well, then, we’ll just have to cancel the wedding.”
He frowned. “You can’t just cancel Vorgon’s wedding.”
“See what we’ve been dealing with?” Mauritania commented.
Malem shot her a dark look that promised pain later. He expected the half Eldritch to shrivel beneath that look as she usually did, but there was no response. Of course: he’d be dead later.
“I’ve found a way to get you back,” Xaxia said. “Because you see, I’ve acquired a certain item in my travels. Pried from the black blade of Banvil himself. A magical item that can open a gateway to the Black Realm.”
Malem stared at her. “Xaxia, I don’t give a fuck.”
“Why would he want to go to the Black Realm?” Weyanna said. “Where Balors rule?”
“Because I can free you from Vorgon there,” Xaxia said.
Malem laughed. “Freedom, in exchange for living the rest of my life trapped in a world of blackness? I don’t think so. Especially when you consider that I don’t need to be freed. Vorgon is the one who set me free!”
And he truly believed it, at least in that moment.
“Except now the only freedom Vorgon is offering you is death,” Xaxia said. “Which is no different than living in a world of blackness. But I’m not promising you will be free of Vorgon simply by entering the Black Realm, though I have heard from someone knowledgeable in such matters that the demon’s control over you will be at its weakest, since you will be separated by two realms. Assuming when we depart that Vorgon still remains in the nether land the demon favors.”
“So, why go then?” Weyanna asked. “If Vorgon will still control him?”
“Because I have a way to bring him back to the way he used to be,” Xaxia said. “A way to sever his ties to Vorgon entirely.”
“And what is this way?” Sylfi asked.
Xaxia looked at the recovering dragon. “We must rebind him to Banvil.”
Malem stared at her incredulously for a moment, and then doubled over in laughter. “Banvil… is… dead!” He said between guffaws. “Banvil’s head… bounced… on the ground at Atembor!” He laughed a while longer before recovering. “Ah, Xaxia. You were always the funny one. Even if Banvil truly lived, why would I want to rebind myself to the demon? I spent my whole life running from Banvil. Why would I want to let the demon’s Darkness take me, when Vorgon set me free?”
“Because you have it all wrong,” Xaxia said. “You’re the one who set yourself free. You Broke Banvil, and the Darkness. But then Vorgon in turn Broke you and enveloped you in its own Darkness. You just can’t see that, because Vorgon’s will is tightly wrapped around your mind.”
“Don’t talk about Vorgon like that,” Malem said, feeling angry. “He enveloped me in Light.”
“Really?” Xaxia said. “Then if you are in Light, why are you so willing to die for him in order to enslave the world? Why, when you’re angry, do your eyes turn red, and dark mist flows freely from your eyes and hands? Is that Light?”
Malem cocked his head. The dark mist… he had almost stopped noticing it when anger came. He glanced down. Sure enough, from his fingernails, black streams wafted forth, reminding him of the dark mist that curled from Ziatrice’s eyes when she used her dark magic. Xaxia was right, he never had dark mist flowing from him before he joined with Vorgon.
But he refused to believe that Vorgon was anything other than the embodiment of good.
“The mist is an artifact of his gift to me,” Malem said. “The access to the infinite pool of stamina he has granted me at my core. Something Banvil could never give me.”
“That’s because Banvil never truly Broke you,” Xaxia said.
Malem shook his head. He’d almost had enough, almost bid her farewell. But there were a couple of things he wanted to know. “This magic item of yours, the one that can open a portal to the Black Realm, it is on your person?”
“Of course not,” Xaxia said. “I wasn’t going to risk bringing it into Vorgon’s camp.”
“Then where is it?” he pressed.
“Hidden safely beyond the perimeter of your camp,” she said. “I will take you to it, if you like.”
Malem considered that for a moment. Then: “Banvil lives, you say?”
“Yes,” she said. “If a Balor dies in our world, that death isn’t permanent. To kill Banvil, you’d have to destroy its essence in the Black Realm, where the demon has retreated to regenerate. Banvil is weakened, but not dead.”
“You have proof?” he asked.
“I do,” she answered. “Come with me and I’ll show it to you. I’ve stowed my proof with the item.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Why do I sense deception from you?”
“You haven’t Broken me,” Xaxia said. “So your sense is wrong.”
“I don’t have to Break you to read you face, Bandit,” Malem said.
She shrugged. “Stay, or come. It’s up to you. After you see what I intend to show you, if you still truly want to die tomorrow, I won’t stop you. But come with me. That’s all I ask. Bring your companions, if you like. But I’d advise against oraks or other weak-minded dark creatures, because Vorgon can Break them and see through their eyes just as readily as you can.”
“I don’t keep anything from Vorgon,” Malem said. “So that last part doesn’t matter. In fact, I’m of a mind to send oraks scavenging the periphery of the camp in search of this stash of yours.”
Xaxia shrugged and smiled confidently. “They’ll never find it. I’ve hidden it well.”
He thought she was bluffing. “How about I summon the oraks here instead? Would you like that?”
She grinned malevolently. “Oh I would,” she purred, resting a hand on her sword hilt. “You know how much Biter loves orak flesh.”
“Maybe I’ll have my women interrogate you instead,” he said. “I wonder how your blade would fare against Eldritch magic.” He glanced at Mauritania, and felt a sudden knot of fear form inside the former queen’s energy bundle.
Ordinarily, that fear would have made him smile, but instead, he felt something else. Something incongruous.
Empathy.
His mind jumped back in time. He was passing through the Midweald with the Eldritch army, on the way to the front lines on the plains of Atembor, after the fall of Tartan and the Breaking of Mauritania.
The Queen of the Eldritch rode on his right side. Xaxia, Bandit of the South, rode on his left.
“One of these days I’m going to have to teach you how to wield a sword properly,” Xaxia said. “Your forms are crude. Like a man who learned to fight on his own.”
“Crude, but effective,” Malem said.
“He fights well enough,” Mauritania said. “Why does he need swordplay when he faces the likes of mages? Or dragons? The blade is a crude implement against such foes. Especially when he has women such as myself at his side.”
“True,” Xaxia said. “A man is never much more than the woman he keeps at his side.”
“Women, in my case,” Malem said.
“Oh, quit your bragging,” Xaxia commented.
“When this war is done, what will you do, Bandit?” Mauritania said. “You are not bound to him like the rest of us. Will you stay, or seek your fortunes elsewhere?”
“I haven’t decided yet,” Xaxia said. “I was never one to stay in one place for very long. Though I have to admit, something about the Breaker makes me want to keep close to his side. Whether that something will last through the war, I don’t know.”
“Wou
ld that something be the sex?” Mauritania said.
Xaxia smirked. “It is pretty good.”
“Do you ever wish you could feel what we feel?” Mauritania said. “The bliss of our shared connection, passed back and forth until magnified tenfold?”
“Sometimes,” she said. “But in truth, it doesn’t really matter. I’m happy to feel my humanly pleasures. And happier still I can share that pleasure with you all when I take him in the sack. It feels less selfish that way. Less like I’m stirring up jealousy, since you can all feel precisely what I’m doing. I’m not sure how a relationship like this would work otherwise. I’ve shared two men before, and shared a single man with two women. Always those relationships died from the eventual jealousy.”
“How do you know the same thing won’t happen here?” Mauritania said.
Xaxia shrugged. “If it does, I’m going to stick with women from now on.” She winked, and then rode ahead before the half Eldritch could respond.
“I like her,” Mauritania commented. “She has spirit.”
“She certainly does,” Malem agreed.
“I worry it might one day be her downfall,” Mauritania said. “I have watched many spirited men and women march bravely into battle, only to die for their recklessness.”
“There’s a fine line between recklessness and bravery, isn’t there?” Malem said.
His mind returned to the present moment.
“Well?” Xaxia said.
He realized the bandit had said something in response to his comment about having one of the women interrogate her, but he hadn’t heard. It was probably some impertinent reply.
Her cavalier attitude will be the end of her yet.
But not today.
He took a step toward Xaxia.
Her gaze momentarily dropped to his naked crotch, but then returned to his face, and apparently she saw something there she didn’t like, because she drew Biter and pointed it at him. “Stay back!”
He lifted his palms outward in gesture of surrender. “Let me pass. I’m going to put on some clothes. When I return, you’ll take me to the magic item. And this proof of yours.”
She regarded him suspiciously, then moved aside in a clockwise fashion, freeing up a path to the main entrance.
He walked past her.
“Bring a dark healer,” she said. “I have a companion in need. Besides, you’ll need dark magic to open the portal.”
Malem pursed his lips, ready to counter her, but then nodded.
Ziatrice, come to Weyanna’s tent, Malem sent. Actually, hell with it. Everyone, to Weyanna’s tent.
He considered using his position as Vorgon’s top lieutenant to call in some night elves and dwarves, too, but decided it would be better if he handled this matter himself.
He returned to his tent. The oraks had done a good job of re-pitching the canopy in his absence, and they’d replaced the mattress and bed frame. He hadn’t even had to give the order—that was one of the benefits of being so high up in the hierarchy of Vorgon’s army: oraks and other underlings vied amongst themselves to please him.
On the table in front of the bed were some dried figs. Though he was ravenous, he didn’t dare touch it, not yet.
He summoned one of the oraks.
“Yes, my lord?” the orak asked.
“Who brought these?” Malem said.
“Why, we did,” the unctuous orak said. “In case you were hungry. That’s what we do… always looking to cater to your needs in advance!”
“Eat some,” Malem ordered.
The orak glanced at the figs, and grimaced. “Please, my lord, I—”
“Do it,” Malem said.
The orak sighed, and then scooped up several of the figs, and reluctantly popped them with a disgusted look on its face. It chewed, and forced itself to swallow.
“Show me your tongue,” Malem said.
The orak stuck out its tongue. The food was gone.
When the creature didn’t die from poison, Malem scooped up the remaining figs. “Go.”
He devoured the dried fruit after the orak left, and then went to the foot of the bed. There was a big dent in the storage chest there, which the oraks had salvaged from his old tent. Apparently Sylfi had partially stepped on it. However the trunk still accepted his key and opened well enough.
He retrieved his dragonscale armor and put it on piece by piece. When that was done, he grabbed the backpack from the chest and retrieved the bulky sack stowed within. He hesitantly peered inside, and stared at the pearl Wendolin had wanted him to give to Vorgon. That thing could cause great damage to the Balor, or so the tree elf queen had said.
Malem wondered why he hadn’t reported it to his master. Something deep inside had stopped him. That same something had stopped him from reporting Xaxia. And what was this vague something?
Doubt.
The chance that she’s right. That Vorgon truly has enslaved me, rather than set me free.
She wasn’t. He knew that. Still, he was glad he had kept the pearl, because now he had a use for it. If it was true that Banvil yet lived, Malem intended to change that. And this pearl might be the key. Wendolin had told him he need merely give the pearl to Vorgon for the item to cause its damage.
Wendolin, are you awake? he sent. Wendolin?
Yes, of course, she replied after a moment. I can’t sleep. Not on a night like tonight.
This pearl you gave me, will it work against any Balor, or just Vorgon? he asked.
Any Balor, she replied. Why?
And I merely have to give it to the Balor in question for it to work its magic? he pressed.
Yes, or allow it to touch them in any way, she said. Why?
Good night. He secured the sack containing the pearl to his waist. He strapped on Balethorn’s scabbard beside it.
Xaxia had said Balors couldn’t truly die unless they were killed in the Black Realm. Well then, Banvil would have his true death yet.
That was the one last thing Malem wanted to finish in this life before he died. His final act.
He would go to the Black Realm, kill Banvil, and then return before morning to meet his own doom.
He smiled at the thought. Let no one say he hadn’t spent the last few hours of his life productively.
31
Malem returned to Weyanna’s tent, and met with the waiting women. All of those he had Broken were present, save for Solan and Gannet, whose energy signatures he detected faintly to the west. They still hadn’t moved. Though he doubted he’d be able to exert his will over them, or drain stamina, he still had the slots their Breaking had granted him.
Xaxia led him through the tents until they reached the outskirts of the camp. Then she continued further, moving away into the darkness.
Eventually, they came upon a small group camped within a copse. Though he could see well enough with his night vision, most of the others didn’t have a similar luxury.
“Abigail, that light globe of yours?” he said.
She created a flaming globe that hovered over the party and illuminated the copse. Two horses were hitched to the trees, a stallion and a pony, and they whinnied, backing away slightly. Next to the animals stood a man dressed in tattered robes. He had a scraggly beard, long-matted hair, with a bald spot in the middle of his head. Beside him, on the ground, lay a dwarf in war gear. The dwarf’s breath came in wheezes.
“Interesting company you keep,” Malem said.
“A bandit’s company,” Xaxia agreed.
“You say that like you’re proud of it or something,” Gwenfrieda said.
“I am proud,” Xaxia told her. “They might not look like much, but wait until you see them fight.”
Malem approached the horses, and they nickered nervously. He sent calming vibes to the beast, feeling at peace in their presence. Animals. Now those were a species he could relate to.
You’re safe, my friends. Nothing will ever harm you while you are in my presence.
The two horses immediately calmed.
The little pony nuzzled against him, and Malem caressed its nose, smiling, remembering who he once was.
“You found him, Bandit,” Goldenthall said. “I hope he brought the dark worker. Timlir won’t last much longer.”
“Goldenthall!” Abigail said, rushing forward. “I didn’t recognize you!”
He stared at her with glazed eyes. “And you are?”
“Abigail!” she said. “Your Metal advisor!”
Goldenthall stared at her blankly, but then recognition seemed to dawn on those eyes. “Ah yes. How are you?”
“Shitty,” she admitted.
“At least you’re honest,” Goldenthall said. “I’ve seen better days myself.”
“We all have,” Xaxia said. “Before we begin… Ziatrice, would you mind helping out my dwarf?” She glanced at Malem. “If it’s okay with the Breaker.”
“I’m the Defiler now,” Malem said.
“Defiler, Breaker, whatever,” she said. “Zee?”
“Don’t call me Zee.” Ziatrice approached, and knelt beside the dwarf beneath the trees. “Where does it hurt?”
The dwarf merely looked up at her, continuing to wheeze. He pointed at his chest armor.
Ziatrice lifted up the edge of the chain armor. “Oh yeah, that’s nasty.” Malem couldn’t quite see what she was referring to from his current angle. She removed the dwarf’s helmet, and then glanced at Xaxia. “Help me get this armor off.”
Xaxia joined him, and together they slid off the chainmail armor, and removed the underlying tunic so that the dwarf’s chest was laid bare.
Malem saw the dark veins that covered the dwarf’s chest then, sourced from a dark, festering abscess in his side.