posted
The wizard defused part of the problem by telling the Don that the majority of the weapons could not be reproduced safely unless he garnered the assistance of several wizards of a power level equal to or greater than his own. That would have meant bringing in wizards from other lands, as no student of the magic arts within Siciliano's borders even remotely approached Castiglioso's abilities. Don Carlos quickly vetoed that idea, not wanting the secret of the weapons to leave the confines of Siciliano.
Taskins took matters one step further. He refused to allow anyone other than the wizard to have any access to the weapons. His position remained firm through several angry confrontations with the Don. He and he alone would use those weapons. And he would use them only if he agreed with Don Carlos’ decision, if he didn’t agree, they wouldn’t be used.
His firm stance against the use of those weapons unless he (not the Don) considered it absolutely necessary resulted in a distinct cooling in his friendship with the Don. Don Carlos bristled at the fact that the giant outlander considered himself his equal and felt justified in questioning his [Don Carlos’] decisions.
But, Taskins had Castiglioso firmly on his side, a fact that was not lost on the Don, and went to great lengths not to cause any embarrassment to the Don over the dispute. So the stalemate continued as a private disagreement between the two men.
Still, the day came when Don Carlos, who was born and raised in feudal nobility, and never really understood that Taskins actually could and would [with the wizards backing] defy him, decided to force him to publicly obey his wishes. He never grasped the idea that Taskins felt no obligation to obey his orders. He was eager to have the fact that the giant possessed weapons of great power, and that he, Don Carlos, could call on their awesome power for his own purposes, known publicly. So he called on Taskins to execute a group of peasants, who had been charged with trifling offenses.
Before that day, Taskins had never thought of himself in heroic terms. He considered himself a realist. He had no love for the methods used by Don Carlos's government, but he accepted them as the law of the land.
Now, he was forced into making a choice between becoming part of those methods and publicly disagreeing with the Don, something that he had studiously avoided in the past.
He looked down at the peasants, six small men tied by their necks to wooden posts. The largest of them was almost 5 feet 6 inches tall and weighed a whopping 130-lb. The Don, despite being a good four inches shorter, outweighed the man by a good twenty pounds. All six stood with their heads down, resigned to their fate. He could no more shoot those men than he could shoot a similar group of children. He refused.
Don Carlos was enraged. Only Castiglioso’s support for Taskins prevented bloodshed in the Royal Pavilion.
Taskins stood stoically as the arrows thudded into the bodies of the peasants. "This is not the land of my birth.” He thought grimly. "I have no right to impose my standards on these people."
But, as each shaft whistled toward its target, a small piece of him died.
A short time later he left Siciliano, taking with him every weapon that he did not personally destroy. His parting with Don Carlos was not congenial, and the few times he visited the island since that day, he did so in secret.
* * *
He shook his head, as he rose from the bed and crossed to the nightstand. Tepid water cleared some of the cobwebs from his brain. "What the hell was that?" He thought as he looked into the mirror. Except for a few lines, the years had not changed him much. No gray in the blond hair yet. The ice blue eyes were still sharp, the nose still straight and jutting. And, the dimpled chin was only slightly dented.
"It’s time for Kari and I go to Siciliano, and get some answers from Castiglioso."
-------------------- Just an Old, Broke-Down, Drunk, Bum!!
With a Power Ring...
From: Westerly Rhode Island | Registered: Aug 2003
| IP: Logged |
The Castleton road connects the cities of Cocney and Castleton on the island continent of Winsor.
Cocney, a dwarfish settlement, is quite naturally a mining and refining center. Various types of ores and gemstones are wrestled out of the mountains by dwarves then refined by dwarves, elves, and trolls and auctioned off to eager buyers by gnomes before they were shipped to the major seaport at Castleton by teamsters of all races.
Aside from the few shops, inns, and taverns (of course), necessary to feed, clothe, and entertain the working population and the steady flow of metal and gem buyers, Cocney has no industry other than the vast mining and refining operations.
All of the necessities and luxuries of life are shipped in by caravan over the Castleton road. The same caravans which before the recent arrival of the noted mercenary captain, Kimball D'Etat, and his seasoned mercenary company, were an inviting and profitable targets for raiders.
Captain D'Etat's arrival changed that. In just six short months he and his lieutenants quickly established a local garrison force to protect the trade along that vital route. They manned that force with locally recruited guardsmen; people of all races who had both a professional and personal interest in the safety of those caravans.
The raids did not stop, but now they rarely succeeded.
To anyone observing the strange caravan that traveled the Castleton road, only his silver lance and helmet proclaimed the lead rider to be a free man. No minor demon, however desperate, would even contemplate attempting to possess a Prince of Kelch. Yet, the Prince and all of his retainers rode dragon-horses – and that is normally a sure sign of demonic possession or servitude. But he, and through him all of those riding escort for that hellish coach, were free men, bound by verbal contract only to the demon who rode in that flaming carriage.
* * *
The gem studded silver amulet he wore blazed brightly and painfully when the small woman in maid's clothing approached him. All of the Inn's patrons seemed to vanish in the aftermath of that mystic energy blast, leaving only his two lieutenants and the terrified innkeeper as witnesses to his dealings with the demon. To his amazement the demon had been stunned but not destroyed by that automatic defense.
His two men, Bennett and Sabb, reacted quickly. Each drew a foot long silver dagger and closed on the small woman's form, intent on finishing the gruesome task. Both were mystified when he waved them away from where she lay crumpled against the wall, but they obeyed silently.
He rose slowly from the table where he had been awaiting his breakfast, and approached her slowly. This, despite appearances, was a very powerful demon. No creature of the Inner-World had ever before survived an encounter with the power of the Arinthian Amulet. In fact demons could sense the awesome power of the amulet for many miles, so why had this one approached him openly? Knowing that even if it could survive the amulet's attack, it would be helpless against the silver weapons that he and his men carried?
He pulled on a chain mail glove made of pure silver and knelt to inspect the small form. A light touch of the silver to one of her arms failed to produce a reaction. So, perhaps the demon had been destroyed after all, the magic of the amulet would not harm a human whose soul had not been corrupted by demonic contact. It was rare for a mere peasant to possess the strength of character to resist that corruption during even an extremely short possession, but not unheard of. The silver gloved hand gently gripped her chin and turned her head to face him. Dull, almost lifeless eyes met his own.
"Do you know who she is, human?"
The voice emanated from the darkest corner in the back of the room where a hazy indistinct shape was beginning to coalesce. The woman slumped bonelessly and collapsed again. He eased her back down onto the floor. Then rose and turned to face the demon. Noting as he did so that Bennett and Sabb had swiftly moved to take positions on either side of him and cover his flanks.
"I know no more of her than I do of you, demon. But I feel sure that you will tell me all that I need to know, including how you survived my amulet's attack, if you desire to survive."
Twin flashes of blue light danced across the upper section of the demon's hazy shape. "Look at the girl, human."
On the floor the girl's features and coloring began to shift. Short black hair lengthened and lightened, becoming long and golden. Dull brown eyes shifted to a piercing blue. Plain, vaguely pretty features became stunningly beautiful. Her maid's outfit vanished – as her slender form filled out voluptuously - replaced by a jeweled G-string and an almost invisible halter top. In the center of her forehead a scarlet gem appeared and on her slender throat, waist, wrists, and ankles golden slave manacles connected by platinum chains formed. Ruby pendants adorned her ears and nipples – both sets doubly pierced – and an emerald shone in her navel. Her eyes opened and flashed with intelligence for a split second, then closed again.
Shock and disbelief fought for supremacy in his mind as he watched the transformation occur. Then recognition forced both emotions aside. He stared hard at the gem on her forehead for a split second before turning to face the demon again.
"The girl is still unknown to me, just a pleasure slave stolen from some Caliph's harem, from the look of her."
A pale blue light illuminated the girl's face. "The jewel, human… Look at the JEWEL!"
-------------------- Just an Old, Broke-Down, Drunk, Bum!!
With a Power Ring...
From: Westerly Rhode Island | Registered: Aug 2003
| IP: Logged |
posted
"I see the jewel, a ruby cut in the Octagon Onus. What of it Demon? Why should I be surprised to see a pleasure slave wearing a fancy gem? Such things are common in harems." He cringed inwardly as he spoke; naming the jewel's cut had been a mistake. He could only pray that Bennett, an Omystan by birth – if long exiled from that fabled land – would not react to his naming of the jewel's cut. He could not however, shift his steady glare from the demon to check his lieutenant's reaction. That would give away the fact that he knew the jewel's significance. A continued silence from both of his men answered his prayers.
"Think, human. You have traveled widely. Most of the seven lands have felt the weight of your boots. Your family created the cursed Demon-Hounds. You obtained that never to be sufficiently dammed Amulet from the hand of a Yeti. You carry weapons forged in Dwarfish fires."
"That one, “A blue light played over Bennett, "carries the blood of Omystan Nobility in his veins." The light shifted to illuminate Sabb. "And that one is a full blooded shifter from the plains of Afrique."
The light dimmed and focused on the still form of the girl.
"Play me not for a fool, human. I spent long years – more than two of your decades – as the prisoner of a Kajian sorcerer. He released me from the pentagram only to do his bidding. During that time I learned many of his secrets, and much about how you lower life forms that still require physical bodies to survive, see your limited reality."
The girl stirred, moaning softly. All three men started visibly. The demon fell silent. "But ...” Bennett started to speak, before being silenced by a motion of Kimball's hand. "Interesting,” Sabb muttered under his breath, "Her mind survives."
Kimball D'Etat bent over the girl and with his ungloved hand raised one eyelid. She moaned again and pushed away the offending hand. He found the fact that she, supposedly a pleasure slave, was able to push away a man's hand – under any circumstances – to be very interesting. He returned his steady gaze, this time questioningly, to the demon.
"I am what you would call an Ifrit. I do not possess humans; I control them from the outside. There is no actual contact between my essence and their souls. Therefore, your medallion does not affect me in the same manner that it would those you call Devils, Imps, Incubi, or Succubi. All it did with that so impressive attack was sever my magickal link to her mind. She is unharmed. Her soul was not destroyed by demonic contact."
"Assuming that I believe you demon, what would an Ifrit want with me? My life has been spent tracking down and destroying demons."
"A trade, human, the girl, the jewel that you pretend not to know the significance of and my knowledge of certain events, for your protection."
It was so ludicrous that he almost laughed out loud. A demon asking for the protection of Kimball D'Etat, Prince of Kelch, Grandson of Xavier – the man who created the Demon-Hounds – the Ex-Defense Minster of Kelch and now the Captain of a seasoned mercenary force that existed for the sole purpose of tracking down and destroying demons.
"The jewel is fake, the girl a common slut, and the word of a demon is worthless!" Bennett's voice fairly exploded into the stunned silence that followed the demon's last words. "You offer my lord precious little reason to break his vows!"
Kimball was stunned by the vehemence in Bennett's voice. While the young Omystan was not as stoic as Sabb, the older Afriquaner, the outburst was very much out of character. Kimball risked a glance at the man's face. He saw that it was contorted with undisguised rage.
The reason was simple. A Power Gem was the highest honor that could be bestowed upon an Omystan. A jewel, normally a ruby but in rare circumstances a diamond, cut in the almost impossibly intricate geometric shape called the Octagon Onus. Such an honor was given only by the hand of Vidnar, the Guardian King of Omysta, and then only with the unanimous approval of the Council of Knowledge. A single anonymous black ball from any one of the fifty members of the council was enough to overrule the king's choice of a recipient. And if rumors were to be believed in 9 out of 10 cases it did.
For more than 500 years the Power Crown of the Guardian King had floated over the head of Omysta's chosen ruler. That ruler was chosen not by accident of birth, nor by popular vote, but by the eerie wisdom of the Power Crown itself. Each of the Guardian Kings, from Jarvenon who forged the continent wide empire to Vidnar who ruled it now, did so with the power and consent of that incredible artifact. It was Jarvenon who started the custom of awarding the lesser Power Gems to worthy Omystans. That custom continued to this day. That a Power Gem, even a fake one, should reside on the head of a pleasure slave was a horrible insult to any Omystan, even an exiled one like Bennett. The very suggestion that it was in fact a true Power Gem was intolerable to the young Omystan.
"You possess the means to verify the truth of my story, Omystan." The demon's voice was icy, "should you prove me false I will throw myself onto your silver weapons. I make no claim however, that she is the one that you and so many of your countrymen seek. Nor do I claim that it was awarded to the one that wears it. I only claim that it is a true Power Gem."
-------------------- Just an Old, Broke-Down, Drunk, Bum!!
With a Power Ring...
From: Westerly Rhode Island | Registered: Aug 2003
| IP: Logged |
posted
“If Bennett's test proves that part of your story to be true,” Kimball interrupted, wondering privately what means the young Omystan could possibly have to verify the truth of the demon's claim, "I will discuss the rest of your proposal, demon. But, should it prove you false...” He lifted his amulet meaningfully, "Whatever manner of demon you are will matter little."
“Sabb” He nodded to the older of his lieutenants.
The large man nodded silently and vanished; in his place stood a huge silver and white tiger.
The demon shrank in on itself visibly. The tiger made no sound; it simply looked balefully at the demon out of silver eyes. Powerful muscles rippled as the tiger sat facing the demon and raised one huge paw to its mouth and began to groom it. The mouth opened in a flash of silver, no decaying yellow enamel teeth in that gaping maw, it was filled with glistening silver fangs. Claws extended from the raised paw and again the expected enamel was missing, replaced by pure silver.
Kimball watched his taciturn lieutenant's performance with amusement. The message was clear, 750 pounds of silver clawed and fanged tiger was more than a match for any minor demon.
Satisfied that the situation with the demon was under Sabb's complete control, he turned back to the young Omystan, curious to see how he would verify the Jewel's authenticity. Surprisingly, he found that Bennett was – somewhat apprehensively – looking at him, instead of the girl or the Power Gem.
"M'Lord...” He began in a low voice, "I find myself in a situation that...” His voice dropped off, his eyes began to water and his head drooped. He pulled the silver dagger from his belt and offered it to Kimball hilt first. It was a gesture commonly used to offer one's own life as compensation for a serious offense that was committed against the person to whom the offer was made. Confusion colored Kimball's features as he silently studied Bennett's face. "No use trying to understand,” He thought, "Just wait for the explanation."
He took the dagger from the younger man's hand, and set it on a nearby table. Carefully placing it down so that the blade pointed directly between them, but not at either one. Bennett's eyes followed the movement with obvious relief.
When Kimball's hand moved away from the knife, Bennett sank to one knee.
"This day is rapidly becoming memorable for unexpected happenings." Kimball spoke in a low voice, "First the demon interrupts breakfast, now you, Bennett, a man whom I have trusted with my life for many years, begin acting as if I may claim your life as a forfeit for oath-breaking. Just what the hell is going on here?"
He placed his hand on Bennett's shoulder, idly noting as he did that the girl was awake and staring at them. "I know you to be a true and honorable man." He stated flatly. "Whatever transgressions you imagine yourself to have made against me, should be stated in the fashion of the warrior you are, on your feet with your head up."
Bennett's eyes left the floor and as he stood up, the words began to tumble out of his mouth. It seemed to Kimball that he was as afraid to hold them back as he was to say them.
"Ten years ago M'Lord, I came to you as a stripling youth, and begged for a position in your service. On that day I lied. Today I beg your forgiveness for that necessary transgression."
Bennett had locked his eyes onto Kimball's as soon as they left the floor. The shock in Kimball’s face was plain, but no anger showed yet. Hope lifting in his heart, the words continued to flow.
"On that day I told the story of a youth, self exiled from country and family in disgrace; a youth judged unfit by King and Council to receive the mark of his station, the Power Gem.
His hand moved to the large silver buckle of his leather harness. It was an item that he was never without. He wore it even when he went without a shirt. A deft movement of his fingers caused the large, ornate buckle to open, revealing a secret compartment. In that compartment rested a twin to the gem on the slave girl's forehead.
"I did not leave my homeland in disgrace. I left it on a mission of great importance." He removed the Power Gem from its resting place and set it to his forehead. When he lowered his hand, it stayed in place without visible support.
"You know the great shame of Omysta; the fact that fifteen years ago Princess Arisia was kidnapped from the palace at Omysta City. You know that for five years after that, her father, Vidnar, the Guardian King, ceaselessly searched the seven continents of the explored world, expending every iota of both his and the empire's energy in the effort to find his daughter."
Bennett paused and turned to look directly at the slave girl. "What no Omystan will talk about is the effect that the search had on the empire. During that time the empire stagnated. With the Guardian King absent much of the time, our enemies found ways to make inroads to our power. Shipping was harassed; agents operated brazenly within our borders, trifling problems quickly grew out of control. The situation clearly had to be reversed, yet the Power Crown gave no indication that the course of action pursued by Vidnar was not correct for the empire as a whole.
Still, the Council of Knowledge intervened during that fifth year and made a proposal to Vidnar; one that he was forced by the Power Crown to accept."
Bennett, should you be saying these things in public?" Kimball interrupted. "I am positive that you had good reason for your deception ..."
-------------------- Just an Old, Broke-Down, Drunk, Bum!!
With a Power Ring...
From: Westerly Rhode Island | Registered: Aug 2003
| IP: Logged |
posted
No M'Lord, I must explain it fully, now. None whom I do not wish to know the truth can hear this conversation. Both of the Power Gems in this room are shielding it."
"Then the demon spoke truly, the jewel on the slave girl's brow is a Power Gem?"
"Yes, she carries it in trust for another. Someone we are destined to meet along the road. The Power Crown created that Power Gem,” He gestured at the slave girl's brow, "without the knowledge or consent of the Guardian King or the Council of Knowledge." He shook his head slowly, as if to clear it. "I don't know how such a thing could happen, but it has. That Gem was created for an Other-Worlder, who is the key to Arisia's salvation."
"How can you know all of that?" Kimball asked. Mystified by Bennett's seemingly certain knowledge of things that he could not possibly have personal knowledge of.
"Please M’Lord; all will become clear when I have completed the confession of my deception."
"Bennett stop calling me M'Lord, the holder of an Omystan Power Gem owes obedience to no man save the Guardian King; least of all to a mercenary captain."
"M'Lord, my vow of obedience and loyalty to you was true, even if the history preceding it was false. I became a true exile the instant I spoke that vow, and I do not regret it. You have earned my loyalty a thousand times over. A mercenary captain you may be now, but your blood is that of a Prince of Kelch."
"Again I ask, how can you know these things?"
"Naught of the truth can be hidden from the true holder of a Power Gem. Ours is the ability to see past the trappings that the souls of material and immaterial beings hide behind." He paused again, as he stared intently at the silent demon. "I told you of the council's intervention in the fifth year of Vidnar's search. They proposed that the search be carried out in secret, by volunteers like me, while Vidnar turned his attention back to running the empire. At first he objected, saying that he could not delegate the task of restoring Omysta's honor. That evening the Power Crown left him for the first time since it chose him to be the Guardian King. It was only gone for a few minutes, but the message was clear. If he did not accept the council's proposal, he would not be acting in Omysta's best interest and it would choose a new Guardian King."
"Agmar, first of the council, personally selected me to join your mercenary company. She told me your true purpose. The abduction of Arisia was almost certainly carried out in part by a demon. Your quest to find and destroy the Succubus that possessed and destroyed your wife and daughter was the perfect cover for my activities. My assignment was – and still is – to search for information on possible demonic assistance in the abduction of the princess.
I wished to come to you openly. I thought that you would welcome the assistance that my Power Gem could provide. But, Agmar decided that it would be foolish to advertise the presence of a Power Gem in your company. She feared that it would close many more doors than it opened. That, many of your potential clients would not retain your services if they knew of my Power Gem. So, the story of my rejection was circulated throughout Omysta, and I joined your company under false pretenses."
Kimball stared thoughtfully at Bennett for a moment, then turned and walked to the bar at the other end of the Inn. He set three cups on the bar and filled them with wine.
"Why did you choose to reveal your deception now?" He asked as he carried the cups across the room. He feared that he knew the answer to that question already, but he had to ask it.
"Because M'Lord, I must now ask you to set aside your quest and aid me in mine. I must ask you to do that which is unthinkable to you, and aid the demon in making its escape."
"And if I refuse?"
"I pray M'Lord that you will not."
"Again Bennett, and if I refuse?"
Then I must completely break my oath to you, and in doing so completely throw away what little honor I have left, and do whatever is necessary to obtain whatever information the demon possesses. Then after delivering that information to Omysta, kill myself."
Kimball studied the haunted expression in his friend's eyes for a moment, and then set a cup of wine in front of him.
"No man can serve two masters, so I release you from your vow to me. Yet I envy your dedication to a master who made you a permanent exile. Even in Omysta your proposed actions would make you a hated outcast."
"Another reason that I would not live long past the completion of those actions, should they become necessary."
"Yet you propose that I set aside my quest, and take an action that would break a personal vow of my own, to aid your cause. Are we both to suicide after this is over?"
"No Captain. Your vow was to destroy any and all demons – demons that preyed on humans – which you encountered during your quest. That Vow will not be broken; this demon has not tasted human life-force."
"You spoke of setting aside my quest. What do you know of my personal reasons for the choices that I make? I have never spoken to you or any other member of the company about such matters. Does your gem lay bare my entire soul?" Suddenly Kimball understood the true power of the Omystan, and the reason that those who wore the Power Gem were so feared throughout the explored lands. The truth of a man's words and actions could not be hidden from them.
"M'Lord ... Captain, your soul is your own, even if I were able to examine the depths of your soul, which I am not. I would not choose to do so. I have no such power, nor would I want it. My Gem only allows me to determine the truth behind what you say and do. It allows me to understand your motivations, not to read your thoughts. Still, even if I did not possess a Power Gem your private quest would not be a secret from me, nor is it a secret from any man in the company. We all know that you seek to find and destroy the succubus that murdered your family. Every mission that the company has undertaken, since you founded it, has somehow involved Succubi. But, I have no hint of such activity here."
Kimball turned to stare at the demon.
* * *
He called the caravan to a halt. They were traveling the very road that they were contracted to garrison. Ahead was a small rise, followed by a long winding drop into a dense forest. The route from the Castleton Inn had been easy so far. A long, fairly straight, and level stretch of road that led through inhabited areas. Ahead lay the dangerous section. The forest was the edge of Azhamohn's realm. If the demon was correct, and the sorcerer had set a Demon-Hound and it's handler on its trail, the dense forest ahead was where the confrontation would take place.
-------------------- Just an Old, Broke-Down, Drunk, Bum!!
With a Power Ring...
From: Westerly Rhode Island | Registered: Aug 2003
| IP: Logged |
“At the top of the next rise, where the road is narrow and the forest thins out. He appears to be waiting.” The youngster paused, looking very uncomfortable, as if he wanted to say much more but was afraid to.
Kimball D’Etat studied the youngsters face thoughtfully. “I should have brought the company.” He thought to himself ruefully. “But, this seemed like a good time to give them a rest. Bennett and Sabb have done a good job of training these locals as a garrison force, but they’re not up to this. The demon has them spooked.”
He turned to a second man standing just inside the flap of the command tent. “Go find Lt. Sabb.” He spoke quietly. “Tell him I need a squad ready.”
The decision to stop for the night had been a difficult one to make. Part of him wanted to keep going, to get this over with as quickly as possible. The demon, which for now was confined in a specially designed enclosure inside the command tent, had been kept away from the troops. But the dragon horses and the flaming carriage were straight out of most of the young trooper’s nightmares. The intense strain that the day’s ride had put on them was showing.
Kylie the young scout could barely keep his eyes off of the glittering silver enclosure. Each time the fabric rippled, he twitched and reached for the silver amulet that Kimball had provided to each member of the garrison force. Those amulets were not as powerful as Kimball’s but would serve to keep the men safe from possession.
Kimball grasped the youngster lightly by a shoulder and turned him away from the enclosure. “It’s safe in there; remember it entered willingly, knowing that it couldn’t leave until I let it out.”
“It’s just knowin that it’s there sir.” Kylie was staring hard at an uncertain spot somewhere off in the distance over Kimball’s shoulder. His eyes were slightly out of focus. It seemed to Kimball that whatever he was staring at was deep inside himself.
“I signed on to fight bandits, not escort demons.” Kylie let out a long breath. “I never even dreamed nothin like this.”
“Neither have we son… neither have we.” Sabb’s voice brought Kylie’s eyes back into focus. They swiftly traveled from Kimball to Sabb entering the command tent, to the floor, as an acute embarrassment colored his features. “Sorry Sir.” He muttered.
Kimball was not surprised by either the swift arrival of his older lieutenant or the boy’s embarrassment when he realized that Sabb had heard him speaking. The plainsman seemed to inspire a curious mixture of awe and fear among majority of this garrison force. His size and demeanor alone were enough to intimidate most men. At a shade over six feet tall and weighing over 200 lb., almost all of it muscle that appeared to be carved from granite, he towered over the local troopers. Kimball had known the man for over 20 years. First as one of his grand-fathers retainers, then as the Commander of the Palace Guard, and now as his good right arm. He seemed ageless and unchanging. His face could have worn out three bodies, it was weather beaten, and deeply lined, composed of hard, sharp edges set in the permanent scowl which was the only expression that he seemed comfortable wearing.
Bennett, the only person whom Sabb seemed to be incapable of intimidating, once remarked that the only known way to injure Sabb was to make him smile, an act which would surely cause his head to shatter. His skin was pure mahogany in both color and toughness, which made his silver hair seem that much brighter.
“Tell me what you know.” Sabb’s deep rumbling bass voice instantly brought the boy’s eyes up from the floor.
“One man, set up just off the road. Right where it narrows between two rock formations. I only got a quick look at him but he’s big and not trying to hide.”
“How big?”
“Bigger than even you sir.”
“What color is his hair?”
“Light yellowish red.”
“OK join the squad, I’ll be out shortly.”
Kylie fairly flew out of the tent. As soon as the flap closed and he was gone, Sabb turned to face Kimball. “This could be real trouble, Kim.”
“Why? It’s only one man, and we’ve got thirty troops plus the three of us. How much can one man do against a force that size? No matter how big he is.”
“Thirty half-trained kids you mean, I’d trade the whole bunch of them for three of our regulars. ‘Sides the fact that this has trap written all over it, this bunch is likely to cut and run if this guy has some magic.”
“Any idea who he is?”
“No, but…”
“But What?”
“Well, I’ve heard stories about a man who fits that description. I just hope it ain’t him.”
“Who?”
“A Mercenary called Taskins.” (pause) “Might not be though. Taskins normally has a Demon-Hound with him, a big one, Royal Line.” (another pause) “Fits too well, the demon told us there was a hound on his trail, question is where is that hound now?”
That revelation shocked Kimball; Royal Line Demon Hounds are as different from ordinary demon hounds as tigers are from house cats. They are far larger, stronger, and more intelligent. And their human forms were more than just a breeding mode. They could switch back and forth at will; ordinary hounds could only assume human form when they were ready to breed.
That royal line of demon hounds was his grandfather’s greatest achievement. They were the perfect bodyguards in either form. Absolutely loyal and deadly fighters, each of them were normally assigned to a single member of the royal family, whom they served exclusively. They were the exclusive property of the royal family of Kelch. How could the mercenary have gained possession of one?
“No Demon-Hound, royal line or not, is a problem for me.”
“True, but you can’t be in two places at one time. You need to be here, keeping an eye on the girl and the demon. Don’t argue, you know that as well as I do.”
“I’m the only one that can deal with a hound!”
“Kid didn’t see a hound!”
“No, but the demon is sure that there is one!”
“More reason for you to stay here.”
“Why?”
“Think it thru, Kim. If it smells like a trap, and this sure does, then where are the jaws? He’s the bait… not the trap itself. You go to him, and the hound will show up here.”
“You think he’s exposing himself to give the hound a free shot at the demon?”
“What else could it be?”
“What makes this Taskins such a threat?”
“Size, speed, strength, weapons like nobody else has, and the hound.” Sabb ticked the points off on his fingers. “And the fact that we’re in Azhamohn’s realm, where making contact with Taskins is sure to bring that damm Kajian here quick. The real question is which does he want back worse, the girl or the demon?”
As usual the older man’s arguments made sense, yet something didn’t fit.
Taskins
“I got as close as I could without falling under their leader’s influence. He’s a member of the Royal Family of Kelch. His aura was plain.” Kari trembled as she spoke. “I almost went into the camp and surrendered to him. I didn’t break. I won’t break. You are my master! You! Not him!”
She spat the last two words with a vengeance that shocked Taskins. He reached out to comfort her as he listened. She smiled slightly as he took her trembling hands into his. “I didn’t break, I won’t break, and the demon is there, in a silver cage. I can get to it. I know I can.”
-------------------- Just an Old, Broke-Down, Drunk, Bum!!
With a Power Ring...
From: Westerly Rhode Island | Registered: Aug 2003
| IP: Logged |
The pathway faded and another new vista spread itself in front of Jayne’s eyes. She glanced sideways at Pete, waiting for a reply to her question. Behind them Satyros and the Azar flanked Teela, the rest of their original party with the exception of Zylph, the troll, had returned to Organia forty-eight hours ago. Zylph had stayed in the Yeti council chamber. When she last saw him he was talking to the Grand Vizier and a rather portly Kajian.
* * *
Forty-eight hours and three lifetimes, she thought, as she struggled to keep everything that happened in that time in perspective. She hadn’t exited her enclosure willingly. In fact she wasn’t entirely sure how she was pulled out of the protective dome she had magically constructed in the Tiberian Mountains. One moment she was talking to Teela, the next…
“Child, you are willful and headstrong, but far from wise.”
Jayne was shocked by the sudden appearance of the elderly female Yeti. She immediately tried to erect a barrier between herself and the woman, but found that she was unable to move, unable to maintain her control of the magic, unable to do anything. Even Raven’s voice was gone. She tried to speak, to ask the Yeti how she had pierced the barrier, how she had silenced Raven, but she couldn’t move. She could hear and see but that was it. She almost panicked when she realized that she wasn’t even breathing but as the seconds passed without discomfort…
“Our emissary warned you that your actions would carry consequences, yet you chose to ignore him and your mentor. You are extremely powerful, but you have no skill, no subtlety, every thing you do is by brute force. Your actions will cause you to attract the attentions of the Demon Lords. We are not ready for that yet.”
The yeti’s eyes were the only thing that moved on her impassive face. They traveled over Jayne several times before leaving her and moving to the Azar.
As she tried to follow the Yeti’s eye movements Jayne realized that she had somehow been transported out of her enclosure. She was on a raised dais inside a large dimly lit cavern. The light came from behind her so she could not see the source. Shadows filled most of the cavern, but the signs of long inhabitation were everywhere. Stone tables and chairs, the floor was smooth and polished, statues and frescos adorned the walls. She could see several Yetis and a small group of other people against a wall behind her ancient inquisitor. They seemed to be waiting expectantly.
During her examination of the room Jayne searched for any sign of her companions, but except for the Azar, who was dimly visible in her peripheral vision, she didn’t see any of them.
Where were they? Were they taken somewhere else? Were they safe? The thoughts flooded her mind as the sudden realization that she had been separated from Teela and Satyros hit her. For a split second she could hear Raven’s voice in the background of her mind. “Fight it! Fight you weak little…” but it was chopped off as quickly as it appeared. She redoubled her efforts to speak.
Her struggle seemed to attract the attention of the ancient Yeti. Jayne noticed almost absently that the yeti’s face was no longer impassive. As the woman looked over the Azar, her snout seemed to wrinkle in what had to be an expression of utter disgust, and as her gaze returned to Jayne a look of curiosity replaced that disgust.
“Your other self is sadly lacking in judgment and compassion but displays an admirable force of will. She fights to free herself but does not care about the fate of your companions. You think of them without regard for your own safety. It is an interesting contrast. Perhaps if I were to merge your two selves…”
“You would be making a huge mistake, Yolanda.”
-------------------- Just an Old, Broke-Down, Drunk, Bum!!
With a Power Ring...
From: Westerly Rhode Island | Registered: Aug 2003
| IP: Logged |
posted
Satyros’ voice came from behind her. Relief flooded into her. If Satyros was there then the others, including Teela, had to be there also. The relief also triggered another reaction. She didn’t know why but the names of the two Yetis… First Pete… Now Yolanda…
The mental giggle seemed to boost her spirits.
The idea just kept percolating in her head, mental laughter drowned out whatever conversation Satyros was having with the Yeti. Yolanda…
Suddenly, the laughter started to echo through the chamber. She was able to speak.
“Who are you?” the question forced itself out around the laughter. Jayne heard her voice echo throughout the chamber. “What do you want with me?” the sound of her own voice energized her.
She threw all of her focus into forcing a smile onto her face. She had no idea what expression she was wearing when she had been frozen and she couldn’t feel her face, she didn’t know what expression it had. She had to smile. She couldn’t let the laughter be heard without a smile on her face.
“You see her, Yolanda, you hear her mind. What do you hear?”
Satyros’ voice again, rising above the echoing laughter. It drove her to an even greater effort.
“She is determined to smile? She wants me to see her smile? She thinks my name is amusing? Why?”
The confusion in the yeti’s voice drove her further. Her perspective changed suddenly. It seemed as if there was a barrier between her mind and her body… a barrier she could see… she was outside looking in… the laughter was affecting that barrier… and she became aware of the mystic energy… it flashed around her… she gathered it.
She was free. Her mind and body were hers again.
The yeti’s face was a study in confusion looming in her vision. A cold rage began to build.
“No M’Lady…”
Teela’s voice had the effect of ice-water; shivers ran up and down her spine, she felt her knees begin to buckle.
It was the second time in the past few weeks that she woke up not knowing where she was. This time she was not alone. Satyros and Pete were hovering over her. Teela’s voice echoed in her head, the concern unmistakable. “M’Lady are you …”
She pushed herself to her feet slowly. The ancient yeti sat in the same position but now the inscrutable mask was back in place. Jayne couldn’t read anything in her expression. “Why?” The question carried a dozen meanings.
“You needed to learn that power, in and of itself, is not enough. Control and subtlety are equally important.” The voice sounded much older than it had just a few moments ago. “Yet you summoned power that I could not dream that you had…” the voice trailed away at the end of that statement.
Jayne could only stare. She tried to speak but suddenly inside her; Raven flared, and her anger rushed to the surface. Jayne closed her eyes and focused herself inward. She had to gain control of her inner demon. There was no other way.
“You called?”
A surreal scene formed. She could see her alternate self, beautifully haughty, nude, and in complete control. For the first time she saw what she looked like on stage. Was that how other people saw her? Was that the image that captivated men? The instant doubt provided an opening… Raven pounced.
“Did you think they saw you as a demure young virgin? Hah… you have an infinite capacity for self delusion. You were a stripper for Christ’s sake. They didn’t like you… they lusted after you… they wanted to use you… and walk away smiling afterwards, you stupid bitch.”
It stung, more than she wanted to admit, but she couldn’t give in.
“That’s you… it’s not… not me… I let you have your fun. I… I didn’t… know.”
It sounded weak, she wasn’t sure… was it Raven… or Jayne? Was there a difference between the two? Raven remained silent; she just stared at her with that damm smug smile. Was there a difference? More importantly could she let there be a difference?
“M’Lady…”
Teela’s voice… Concerned and scared… was it a memory or was Teela trying to break thru and contact her… did it matter? Raven only cared about herself; the rest of the world could go to hell. Teela however… the damm kid was a ghost, her body stolen from her… her soul condemned to wander as it slowly faded away… and she still cared… cared more than Raven ever had or could.
No! There couldn’t be a difference. She had to be a whole person. Her compassion and judgment, Raven’s strength and ruthlessness, melded into…
She opened her eyes, Teela’s ghostly bubble form danced in front of her face.
* * *
“We are on the island of Kelch,” Pete’s voice jerked her back into the present. The pathway was still just barely visible. They were standing on a small hill, looking down into a sheltered valley. The scene below looked like an illustration from “Stately Homes of England” magazine.
“There are some people here you need to meet.”
“So why did we stop here? Why didn’t we go directly down there?”
She turned to look at Pete and Satyros as she asked that question but the answer came from behind her.
The words came in such a thick Scottish bough that Jayne had to think for a moment in order to separate what sounded like one long word into a (semi) coherent sentence.
Three women stood a few yards away. Two of the three were large and homely; they looked like they would be at home in a dockworkers convention. The third, apparently the one who had spoken, was a petite blonde with a smiling face and a saucy attitude.
“Ri’ Petey?”
Satyros laid a hand on Jayne’s shoulder as she was about to speak. As she turned he nodded toward Pete. “Let him…” he almost whispered.
“Hello Belinda, Is your master home?”
[ October 12, 2003, 05:30 PM: Message edited by: Almost New Kid ]
-------------------- Just an Old, Broke-Down, Drunk, Bum!!
With a Power Ring...
From: Westerly Rhode Island | Registered: Aug 2003
| IP: Logged |
“Doctor, Yolanda is here, she wishes an audience.”
"Clyde, there is no need to stand on ceremony when friends arrive. Show her into the study.”
Castiglioso was seated in a large armchair when the elderly yeti entered the room.
“Please forgive me if I don’t stand Madame, at my age, after a tiring day…”
Yolanda said nothing; she merely settled herself into an even larger armchair and gazed thoughtfully at the wizard. Clyde appeared at her shoulder with a tray of refreshments. She chose a few delicacies without looking then accepted a steaming cup of tea and settled back into the chair. Her eyes remained on the wizard the entire time neither blinking nor looking away for an instant. Castiglioso merely smiled. For nearly an hour they sat there, neither moving nor speaking. Finally Castiglioso broke the silence.
“I assume there is a reason for this visit?”
“I have to wonder old friend, if the script you gave me to use on that girl applies to you more than it does to her. ‘You lack patience and subtlety’ … ‘sheer power is not enough’”
She snorted derisively then took a sip of the tea before continuing.
“Was there a purpose to that charade? Half of my people think I’ve gone senile, the other half wonder what sort of wizard’s power game I’ve let myself get dragged into. A few young hotheads are already calling for my replacement.”
He let the last comment pass, the day Yolanda needed help in holding onto political power among her people had not yet come and they both knew that. Her comment was only to let him know that the “charade” as she called it had not fooled the yeti population for an instant. Still, few people were as magically astute as the yeti. And the people whom he needed to be deceived by that little game had been.
“So you think we should let Arr win? What would the explored lands be like under his rule? How long could he hold off the Demon Lords?”
She snorted again, and took another sip of her tea.
“She’s not going to stop him.”
“Then why did you go along with that charade? And throw in a few touches of your own, I might add.”
“I saw the same things you do in her. Five years from now, with the proper training and some delicate handling, she will be exactly what we want. But right now…”
“We don’t have five years; we barely have five more weeks.”
“Why don’t you just free Arisia yourself? You could do it with barely a flick of your finger. Free her and Arr’s power is broken. Then train this Jayne properly and let her take her proper place at the proper time. Why put them through all this?”
“Even if I could free her as easily as you think I can, it’s not an option. There are forces in play beyond Arr… No they must do it themselves. Neither I nor Vidnar can take an active role in this… but we can give them the tools and some guidance…”
-------------------- Just an Old, Broke-Down, Drunk, Bum!!
With a Power Ring...
From: Westerly Rhode Island | Registered: Aug 2003
| IP: Logged |
I'd forgotten all about this and just how many great ideas you threw into it! You were always my fave writer on this site but you never seemed to finish off your work leaving me and your Legion of fans clamouring for any chance of some more, more, more!
Hope the world os being kind to you
Bxx
-------------------- "Tempus Fugitive" the final part of the Adventures of Dream Boy series, set in the Three-Boot Universe. Read it only in the Bits o' Legionnaire Business Forum.
From: here, more often than not | Registered: Sep 2003
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Hyperpath: Email this page to someone!
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