Moonsword - Chapter 9

Chapter 9

“Obey me and you shall be lords in your own right,” Perilisk said.

Except, of course, it was no longer Perilisk.  Rwiordes realized that.  Rwiordes had always been the smart one, or, at least, the practical one.  The one with the common sense.  Perilisk had always been the leader, he had the most ambition and drive of the three.  And then there was Hertrid.  Hertrid was a follower, generally loyal to his friends but to few others.  Hertrid also was not that, well...intelligent.

They knelt prostrate before the thing they had accidentally evoked.

“Rise and attend me,” it (or he, now) said.

Hertrid was quite quick in springing to his feet and waiting in abject subjugation upon the will of the fiend.  “Yes, my lord,” he added, in additional abeyance.

In truth, Rwiordes was smart enough not to be too far behind him.

“Excellent,” Perilisk said.  “You have learned quickly.  It is well.  Fantastic treasures shall be yours if you obey my will.  Answer me. In which direction is the largest and most populous city, nearest to us now?”

Rwiordes knew his life depended on keeping this creature happy; he quickly answered, “Coertol City lies two hundred miles to South and East from here.  It is the largest city in this region.”  He tried to be as succinct as possible, with just enough humility (or so he hoped).

Rwiordes looked for a moment at Perilisk’s eyes, neither whites nor irises were visible, only a black void of swirling chaos.  He shuddered as subtly as he could.  The Demon smiled in a most disturbing manner, whether it was due to his answer or his discomfort, Rwiordes wasn’t certain.

“We shall raise an army between here and there,” the Demon announced.

Hertrid blurted out (Rwiordes thought foolishly), “I doubt that.  There’s not much between here and there for miles.  In fact the city was built with the desert on its northern border as a defense.  It is common wisdom that no army could cross the desert and then effectively lay siege to the city from that side.  It can’t be done.”

The Demon smiled, “There is nothing that I cannot do.  Remember that, for I shall brook no more of your impertinence.”

With that, the Demon in Perilisk’s body turned and began walking towards the southeast, in the direction Coertol City.

“Come,” he commanded.

Rwiordes dared not disobey, those dark eyes demanded obedience.  But he could not help but wonder what they were going to do for food in the desert’s inhospitable environs.  The Demon turned and addressed him, “Fear not for sustenance, my friend, Rwiordes.  Though they know it not the beginning of my army lies but two hours journey from this spot.  They shall provide us with all manner of human comforts.”

Rwiordes wasn’t sure how to react.  Obviously the thing could read his mind.  He smiled in hesitation, “Thank you my Lord.”

They walked for some time in silence.  The Entrine Desert at night was an eerie place and that night it seemed bathed in a supernatural glow.  The three comets blazed high in the starlit sky.  The brush and small vegetation that marked the desert floor looked more like blemishes in the sand and shadow.  Hertrid had taken to mumbling to himself in his terror, though Perilisk seemed content for the time to ignore them.

In the distance ancient ruins dotted the horizon. What the ruins had been had slipped even from legend.  No doubt a once proud and successful people had built and lived within those city walls, but now it must be home to scorpions and lizards, or such creatures as lived in the desert wilderness by habit and nature.  Some desert bird must also have made those solemn stones its home, as it called out as they approached.

The Demon stopped abruptly.  He opened his mouth, and a peculiar sound issued forth.  It was an unpleasant sort of screeching in a low octave, unlike anything Rwiordes had heard previously issuing from his friend’s mouth.

A low rumble shook the ground behind them, almost in answer to the diabolic noise of the fiend.  The Demon seemed satisfied and proceeded again toward the ruins.  As they neared the first stone wall a new uneasiness came over Rwiordes, a feeling that they were being watched.  This was quickly borne out by the four men who stepped out from the wall with crossbows leveled at them.

“Hold yer step,” cried one of them.

The Demon seemed unperturbed by this development and marched boldly towards the men.

“You ’eard im,” challenged another of them.  “Keep yer self still.”

The Demon paused and appeared quite shocked for a moment, then asked, “I beg your pardon, were you addressing us?”

“Aye,” replied the first of them, “You jist back off a bit.”

The Demon put on a most cordial tone, “I recommend that you take us immediately to your chieftain, or whatever it is you thieves have for a leader.  Immediately.”

To Rwiordes’ great surprise they lowered their bows and led them towards the entrance to the main ruins.  Not another word was spoken as they walked into the city, past a great many rather low looking types, , no doubt, as the Demon had guessed or known, thieves and criminals.  This must be the hideout for a clan of highwaymen, who had been using the desert’s natural desolation as protection.  The majority of the thieves were engaged in feasting and in drunken revelry.  They proceeded unquestioned and unnoticed (quite odd as they were still, of course, garbed in their magical robes from the ceremony).

Suddenly someone took notice of them, a huge man, dressed in black, who sat on a makeshift throne.

The dark figure stood up and pointed at them, “And who, Dervigh, do you lead so before Tyuriuk, King of Thieves?”

Dervigh remained expressionless and motionless.  The Demon stepped forward, most forcefully.

“I come before you, Tyuriuk,” he said in his nightmarish whisper, “I who have dwelt in the dungeon of eternity, since the dawn of creation.  I who have watched the world with hungry eyes for eons without end.  I who have entered your world to become its lord.  I whom you shall address as Master.”

At once the revelry stopped.  Those gathered about Tyuriuk could only shake their heads in disbelief, clearly amazed at such a stupid affront.  Tyuriuk smiled, “I see.  You are no doubt travelling wizards filled with madness.  Well, we shall end your travels.”  Despite his words Rwiordes could tell even the leader of villains was affected by the Demon’s voice and presence.

The demon’s smile broadened as he spoke, “You shall provide us with food and wine immediately, and muster your lieutenants.  We have plans to draw.”

“You speak as one who expects to be obeyed.  It is most unwise of you.   These mighty warriors are in my service and will enjoy dispatching you and your more behaved companions with relish.”  He added, “Kill them.”

As Tyuriuk spoke those words, the screams began at once.  Rwiordes could see huge numbers of men scrambling towards them with horror written on their faces.  Cries of terror and pain mingled even in those few seconds that passed.  Rwiordes felt something move by his feet.  He looked down and shrieked (as did nearly everyone else in the ancient ruins).  The ground twisted with  all manner of snakes, insects, lizards, and scorpions moving as a living carpet.  A few men were covered from head to toe in stinging scorpions.  Rwiordes felt great relief as none of the creeping things made any attempt to attack or bother him (or Hertrid).  They did, however, enmesh the Demon, but they seemed to in no way hurt him.  He laughed in hysterical laughter as men screamed and shouted.  Covered in his armor of scorpions he walked right up to Tyuriuk and pushed the horrified rogue back into the squirming mass.

The Demon was a truly terrible sight.  His black-void eyes staring out from under the dozens of scorpions that crawled about him.

He looked down at Tyuriuk, “Yield your power to me and you shall live to great reward, and power beyond your puny holdings.”

Tyuriuk was a fiercely independent man, but, even so, he wasn’t long in shaking his head in frightened acceptance of the Demon’s terms.

The Demon stretched a scorpion-covered arm towards the rogue-king, who closed his eyes as he took it.  He helped Tyuriuk to his feet, then howled madly at the heavens in such a manner as to send a chill down every man’s heart who was assembled there.  The stinging, biting carpet withdrew from the ruins, with only the scorpions which moved on Perilisk’s body remaining.  Most of the thieves were uninjured in the  attack.  A few, however, were swollen from bites and venom, and lay dead on the ruined streets of the old desert city.

Tyuriuk beheld the Demon with a horror that had never shown on his countenance before.

The Demon addressed him, “You shall be my chief general.”

“If you wish it,” Tyuriuk said nervously.

“I wish many things, Tyuriuk.  And you shall help them come to pass.”

“Who are you.  W-w-what are you?”  The deposed rogue whispered.   Perilisk flung off  the scorpions with a sudden jerk, flying impossibly far (and making those in the vicinity protect themselves from the flying little arachnids.)

“I am the End of the World,” the Demon said.