Chapter 41
Rwiordes was powerless. The horror of his situation was absolute. He could not scream at the total
impotence and fear he felt. He could not
run off and hide, nor could he warn anyone.
All he could do was watch what the Demon made him look at and do what
the Demon made him do. He could see
things as he always did, but he no longer controlled where he looked. He was walking now, as he always walked, but
his destination was unknown to him.
He moved, quite casually, through the back passages of the
Palace of Lorm. There was no one else to be seen. Everyone was at their appointed battle
stations, so the Demon could go wherever he wanted with impunity. He appeared to know where he was going,
though Rwiordes had never been in that section of the Palace. He opened a door and descended the stairway
he found there with confident strides.
“Are you frightened, good Rwiordes?”
his mouth asked him.
“Demon got your tongue?” the fiend asked.
“You shall see what fear truly is,” the Demon continued.
Rwiordes could feel the malevolence
churning in him. A hatred for life, for
beauty. A chaotic savagery that
transcended time and space. A
consciousness that delighted in petty cruelties as well as great.
“When I am through, I shall eat this
world whole.”
Dark visions poured into Rwiordes’
mind. A Demonic Feast. There were corpses piled as high as the
highest tower he had ever seen, stretching from horizon to horizon. Three figures crawled on the top of the piles
of rotting flesh. They were Perelisk,
Hertrid and himself. They were eating
the bodies. The taste of putrefied human
meat assailed him. He, himself, was
gnawing on the organs of an infant.
There was no escape from the nightmarish scene. It flashed across his mind with horrific
vividness.
He heard himself laughing in maniacal
delight.
“See, dearest Rwiordes, the future
that awaits the World. But as you can
see, you shall not suffer.”
Then his normal vision returned and
he was again walking through the Palace corridors. Now they were quite narrow and dark, the few
oil lamps that hung on the walls barely cut through the darkness. At the end of the hallway was an old door.
“The Lormians probably don’t even
remember what’s down here,” he said as he tugged on the ancient wood and rusted
metal door. His muscles strained for a
moment then a new strength seemed to bubble up from a deep well of evil. He pulled the door off its hinges and set it
to the side. Another stairway led into
complete blackness. The Demon seemed
unconcerned at the impenetrable gloom and stepped with rapidity down the
steps. To Rwiordes there was only the
darkness, the sound of his boots on the stone steps, and the smells of mildew
and dust. Cobwebs brushed against his
face, but the Demon did not care about such things.
The stairway went down a surprisingly
long distance before ending on a dirt floor.
“Two hundred years ago, this was a
dungeon,” explained the Demon in his customary hiss (but now using Rwiordes’
tongue). “The Lormians built a new one
and no longer utilize this one. But it
has everything we need.”
Why would the Demon come down here?
wondered Rwiordes.
“Because,” the Demon answered his
unspoken question, “it has an earthen floor.”
The Demon bent down and scooped up a
handful of soil. Rwiordes felt it slip
between his fingers. His hand then
traced a triangle in the dirt. Next, he
sat cross-legged before the triangle.
The Demon did not groan with the effort as Rwiordes would have. For a moment, every muscle in his body tensed
to the point that he was in pain.
Curiosity mixed with the terror and uncertainty of the situation. What on earth was the Demon doing down here? Why did he require an earthen floor? Whatever he was up to, Rwiordes was certain
that the Lormians would not like it.
“You can be certain of that,” his
mouth said.
The Demon then issued a stream of grotesque gibberish
and facial contortions that seemed to last forever there in the dark confines
of the forgotten dungeon. There was no
means to judge the passage of time for Rwiordes. He could see nothing. He could do nothing but listen to the groans and hisses that came from his mouth
and feel the unnatural twisting of his lips and tongue. There was something familiar about the sounds
the Demon was making. As he listened he
could hear words in the Demon’s gibberish:
“KILROP TY IROUD CURNIT VAZ EWRTY.”
Where had he heard those words
before? He remembered. They were the barbarous words of evocation
that Perelisk had used in their own magickal ritual, which had turned out so
badly. They were the ancient call of the
Element of Earth. The memory of that
botched attempt brought waves of regret washing over him. A massive guilt crushed him. It had been their fault, he realized. Perelisk, Hertrid and he had unleased the
Demon. By their ignorance, by their
folly, they had begun the destruction of the World. He knew then that there was nothing anyone
could do to stop it. The World was
doomed. This Druidic Champion business
was a false hope. There was no way this
Tolian woman could do anything to stop the nightmare they had set upon the
world. It was the end of everything and
it was his fault. His fate was fitting
punishment, if there could be such a thing.
He deserved any of the torment that the Demon could throw at him.
His guilt ridden reverie was broken
when the Demon broke into normal speech:
“Spirits of the Deep Earth, I your Master, summon you to attend me. You are bound to do so by the Talisman of
Earth in my control. Come to me! Come to me, now!”
The ground began to rumble slightly,
as if something was moving beneath him.
The Demon fell silent and did not move.
Even his breath stopped, though Rwiordes felt none of the effects of
asphyxiation. His eyes had accustomed
themselves to the blackness enough for Rwiordes to see the triangle drawn
roughly in the dirt in front of him. The
ground within the triangle started to churn like butter. An eerie greenish-brown glow seemed to
radiate from the ground.
The form of a gnomish creature climbed out of
the earth within the triangle. It was no
more than two feet tall and seemed comprised of stone, though it was vaguely in
the form of a human. It had two arms,
legs and a head with glowing green eyes and a mouth with crystals for teeth.
When it had pulled itself from the
ground it spoke: “You have summoned me,
oh Lord of Chaos, and I have come. What
is thy bidding?”
No emotion could be detected in its
hollow, earthy voice.
The Demon regarded the Earth
Elemental coldly for a moment before answering it.
“I once again, have a need for the
fire that rages at the Earth’s Core.
Make great haste and fetch me another ball of it at once,” commanded the
Demon.
“It is a great distance to travel,
but I shall hurry, oh Master of the Earth,” replied the Elemental.
“Do so.”
With that the stony gnome began to
dig its way back into the ground from whence it had come, leaving no trace of
its passing evident. Rwiordes felt
himself smile a cruel and satisfied smile.
“It shall not be long, old friend,
before our business in Lorm is completed.”
Neither Rwiordes nor the Demon
detected the glowing yellow eyes that watched them with keen interest. Kilfrie had not trusted the Messenger from
the moment she saw him. At first it was
merely a suspicion that barely registered in her mind. He seemed polite enough and honest enough,
certainly. But there was a moment, right
when the dragons were first sighted that she saw something that aroused her
distrust in him. The others had turned
to rush to the King’s balcony, when she saw a sinister smile flash across the
Messenger’s face and his eyes turn black.
Tolian had failed to introduce her to the King and Rwiordes, an
understandable oversight considering her present form. So to the Messenger she was just some big pet
cat. He did not seek to conceal his true nature from her.
At first, Kilfrie doubted herself,
but felt that prudence dictated that she should investigate his
activities. He did not go out to the
balcony with the others. Instead he left
the King’s chambers and made his way to the inner most recesses of the
Palace. Kilfrie waited and followed at
a safe distance, tracking him with the panther’s acute smell and hearing. She tried to convince herself that perhaps
Rwiordes’ actions were those of a wise coward who knew the power that the
dragons possessed and was attempting to hide in the safest place he could think
of. She had almost convinced herself of
this theory when the Messenger began to talk to himself. She quickly closed the distance between them
so she could distinguish his words.
Her suspicions returned. Either Rwiordes was mad, which was also
possible considering the ordeal he had undergone, or he too was possessed by
the Demon. If the Demon was able to
split himself in two, why not three?
Rwiordes had been a part of the ceremony that opened the gateway for the
Demon, just as Perelisk and Hertrid had.
She had seen it in the Spirit Vision on the Equinox. If he was mad, his activities would be
harmless, but if he was possessed or controlled by the Demon it could have the
gravest of consequences for them.
She hung back and let Rwiordes put
some more distance between them. She did
not have to see him to follow him, and she wished to give no indication of her
surveillance. Deeper and deeper he went
into the substructure of the Palace. She
waited at the top of the stairwell that led to the ancient dungeon and
listened. She heard Rwiordes’ wild
gibberish and she also recognized the Call of the Earth Elemental in his raving
intonations. Still, she had no hard
evidence that madness was not at work in Rwiordes’ mind. She crept stealthily on her padded paws down
the steps, inching her way with absolute silence into the inky blackness.
Once she had seen the Elemental
appear in the triangle she knew the truth.
The Demon had penetrated to the heart of their defenses and clearly had
some stratagem to destroy them. She knew
that she had no power to stop the fiend on her own. She had to get Tolian at once. Yet she did not want to leave the Demon
unmonitored. A plan quickly formulated
in her head. She retreated up the
stairway and into the dimly lit corridor above.
She heard the chirping of a cricket in a dank corner. She sat before the cricket and placed a
message to Brythia in its care. She knew
that the Demon had the power to monitor and even interfere with the Druid’s
natural communications system. She hoped
that he would be too busy to pay attention, concentrating as he must be on his
dark magicks and conquests.
The cricket passed the message to
another cricket that passed the message, in turn, to a mouse. The mouse scurried into the King’s Chamber
and out to the balcony. The small mammal
hurried over towards Brythia.
Brythia had held her breath as Tolian
climbed dangerously up the flying monster’s back. She watched in joyous amazement as her
beloved slew the dragon. Her love for
the Champion seemed to grow stronger and stronger, such that her heart ached
for her whenever they were apart. Still
she knew that Tolian had a job to do and that she could not hope to stay by her
side at all times.
Finally it started to snow. She prayed to the gods that the snow spell
would be enough to slow the dragons attack, or they were as good as dead, like
poor Findelbres whose mangled body and crumbled rainbow-spangled wings she
could just see at the base of the Palace wall.
In a few minutes the snowfall had increased to blizzard proportions and
the dragons were grounded.
“This is your doing, I assume?” asked
King Tolris.
“You have given us our only hope
child, I thank you,” said the King. “How
long will this last?”
“That I don’t know,” the druidess
said honestly, “The Demon may be able to stop it or not. If we’re going to do
something, we have to do it now.”
“Now it is, then.”
Just as the trumpeter blew the battle
signal, the little mouse began to squeak at Brythia’s feet. With the heavy snow the freezing little
animal could barely be heard. It climbed
up her boot and up her leg. The Priestess
of the Sun looked down in surprise.
“Hello,” she said. “I don’t think you should be out here.”
She took the mouse in her hands and
gently warmed it. It squeaked its
message from Kilfrie. The color ran out
of Brythia’s face.
“Oh Gods.”
But doubt clouded her mind. It could be a trick of the Demon’s to remove
Tolian from the battle just as she was needed most. They had not been able to send messages since
the beginning of the conflict, why would they be suddenly be able to? Still, she clearly couldn’t take a chance and
ignore the message. She decided to investigate the matter herself before alerting anyone else.
“Can you take me to Kilfrie?” Brythia
asked the mouse.
It squeaked in the affirmative.
“Your Majesty, would you excuse me
for a moment?” she asked. “There’s something I need to check.”
“Of course my child. Thanks to you,
this is the kind of fighting the men of Lorm know how to handle.”
“Thank you.”
She bowed low and hurried away.
She followed the mouse’s directions
at a run. Even so, it took quite a while
to reach their destination. Brythia was
not sure how she felt when she saw the panther waiting anxiously before the
unhinged door. She did not say
anything. She walked over to Kilfrie.
She heard Kilfrie’s voice in her
mind, “Where’s Tolian?”
“She’s busy.”
The panther sighed with worry,
“Follow me.”
How long the Earth Elemental had been
gone for, Rwiordes could not say. He
only knew that the Demon waited there in the dark dungeon with infinite
patience, staring expectantly at the triangle in the dirt.
“It shall not be much longer,
Rwiordes, I can feel it coming towards the surface now,” said the Demon. “Oh, and what else do I feel? A pleasant surprise that I had not
anticipated. The timing could not be
better.”
The earth inside the triangle bubbled
and churned. An orange ball just like
the one Rwiordes had used to destroy Coertol City uncovered itself from the
unstable soil. Rwiordes lifted the
sphere into his hands.
“This glass sphere contains the
essence of the fires of the molten core of the World. But you remember that, of course. I would say that we have an excellent weapon
against this half-bitch that you were hoping would save you. Wouldn’t you?”
It did not feel hot. It seemed as harmless as the other one did,
but Rwiordes knew better now.
“Shall we go visit our guests who are
waiting upstairs for us?” the fiend asked in delight.
Rwiordes jerked to his feet and
bounded across the dungeon and up the stairs with astounding speed. Towards the top of the stairwell were two startled
figures: the druidess Brythia and the black panther that had also accompanied
the Champion. With one powerful motion
the Demon slapped the panther which crashed into the wall. The sound of dozens of bones breaking could
be heard as the dumb beast fell down the long stairway. The Demon grabbed Brythia by the neck and
held her up against the wall. He brought
his black eyes up to her face.
“Greetings, Druidess,” he whispered
in his unnerving manner. “What a surprise this is.”
“You are the person I most needed to
see at the moment. For, if I am not
mistaken, it was you who cast that snow spell which so inconvenienced my
beloved dragons.”
“You love nothing, you monster,” she
said bravely. Nevertheless she was as
terrified as she had ever been in her life.
“You are mistaken mortal,” replied
the Demon in Rwiordes’ normal voice. “I love death.”
He lessened his hold around her neck
slightly.
“For your information, the snow has
stopped, the Lormian’s are taking massive causalities, and soon I shall kill
your so-called Champion on the battlefield.”
“You will not defeat Tolian,” Brythia
responded defiantly. Rwiordes had to
admire the poor girl’s courage.
“That’s why I’m not going to kill you
right away. You are to be my
insurance. For if I recall Tolian’s
introduction, you are its lover.”
When he spoke Tolian’s name he
pronounced it with such hatred and violence that he brought tears to Brythia’s
eyes. Rwiordes felt sorry for her, but
he could do nothing to help her. His
hands came menacingingly close to her eyes.
He made a pinching motion with his fingers and hissed, “I think I shall
pull out your eyes and bite off your tongue, that should make you quite docile
for the journey North.”
Brythia shook in abject terror. She couldn’t help herself. She whimpered, “Tolian, please help me,
please.”
She closed her eyes as the Demon
touched her eyeballs.
“Your lover is nearly dead. It shall
not rescue you. No one shall.”
Rwiordes wished he could close his
eyes so he didn’t have to watch.
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