The Curse of Credesar, Part 1

by Robert E. Keller

  Chapter 17: The Warding Chamber

  "What's wrong with you, Tannis?" Renstad asked, once the others had been led away to their prison cell. "I can't believe what I'm seeing!"

  Tannis shrugged. "To you, it appears I casually sit and dine while making accusations you consider outrageous. Is this correct?"

  "That's the way I see it," said Renstad. "We've known each other a long time. But I no longer feel welcome here, that you're scheming against me."

  Tannis grinned. "Well, then, I'll admit it. I'm scheming against you." He dipped his fingers in the jar and licked them. "So delicious. Anyway...what was I saying? Ah, yes, that I'm indeed up to something. But it's for the betterment of our great city. And you could be part of it. Wessop has signed on. Haven't you, Wessop?"

  The elite soldier nodded. "With my very blood."

  Renstad was growing more distraught by the moment. These were men he would have trusted with his life only weeks before, and now they seemed like complete strangers. "Signed on to what?" he asked, dreading the answer.

  "This city is a failure," said Tannis. "A shadow of despair lurks here. Crime is rampant. People kill themselves out of depression and madness. The wealthy live good, but the poor can barely feed themselves and have nothing to look forward to. More soldiers are not the answer. We need better leadership. Therefore, I've decided to hand this city over to my eternal master--the great god Jarvin himself, who at this very moment is standing behind that door." Tannis pointed to a heavy oaken door behind him. "He's right in there."

  Renstad was speechless with shock for a moment. A sense of unreality washed over him. Then he blurted out: "You're insane, Tannis! You've completely lost it!"

  "Wessop, tell him," said Tannis.

  "He's right," said Wessop. "Jarvin is indeed standing behind that door. In a moment, he'll come out. He'll either knight you, as he did to me, or he'll strike you down. The choice is yours. You can retain your rank and have power beyond your imagination once all of Americk Dreeth is under Jarvin's control. Think carefully!"

  His face grim, Renstad turned back to Tannis. "I'll never submit to the will of a false god. I'd sooner die."

  Tannis sighed. "Very well. Jarvin, come on out now! Renstad the Red Axe refuses to cooperate!"

  For a moment nothing happened, and then it occurred to Renstad that this must all be a prank. While Tannis had no sense of humor, Wessop certainly did. "I get it!" Renstad said, though he found no humor in it. "You fellows are jerking me around, right? It's because I half believed what Dameon and his friends told me. Right? Now you're pulling this prank to make me realize how foolish I was."

  "Not at all," Tannis said calmly. "You were wise to believe what they told you."

  "It's all true," said Wessop. "Jarvin!" he shouted. "Are you going to come out or not? Are you drinking up all the ale back there?" He laughed uproariously.

  Renstad grinned to show he wasn't falling for the prank, but the grin vanished as the door opened and a huge man stepped through. He was a few inches over seven feet tall, with the build of a Gelshad fighter. He wore a green robe adorned with red dragon images, a gold belt designed to mimic dragon scales, and comfortable-looking fur slippers. He was bald and had a neatly trimmed red beard and mustache. His eyes were icy blue--like Renstad's. On his forehead was the poison flame, the rune of the false gods that looked like a flaming sun. Aside from the symbol burned into his forehead, he looked like a wealthy merchant wearing his evening attire and not the creature of nightmares he'd always been portrayed as.

  Jarvin puffed a long-stemmed pipe and smiled. "So you're the greatest warrior in the land. Renstad the Fearless, some call you. Are you worthy of such a title?"

  "I am," Renstad said quietly. "And if I'm supposed to believe you're Jarvin, the ancient seer who was imprisoned in the Shifting--well, I don't."

  Jarvin laughed. "What were you expecting, a monster? I'm still a living man, Renstad. No one ever killed me. Do you think I should have blue skin like those other cursed weaklings? I'm a master of Blue World sorcery but not a slave to it. I control my own destiny, just as you still control yours--for the moment."

  "What is it that you want?" said Renstad, still wondering if this was all a joke. "If you are Jarvin, why have you come here? Shouldn't you be at Iragantheos?"

  Jarvin shrugged his massive shoulders. "I have to expand my empire. First Murakan, then Valganleer. All of the Legaran towers and underground cities, eventually. But you're right. I have to be getting back there. I don't really care to leave my tower in the hands of others."

  "What are you hoping to achieve?" said Renstad. Ever the strategist, he decided there was a chance this could indeed be Jarvin or one of Jarvin's servants, and if that was the case, he was going to milk him for all the information he could.

  "I'm paving the way for Blue World," said Jarvin. "The more Blue World sorcerers that exist, the more powerful Blue World becomes. It's wonderful, don't you think? I serve the realm that serves me, brother. I create life for Blue World, and Blue World grants me power. I want everyone in this barren realm to submit to Blue World, so that it can merge with this reality and devour it. When that happens, I will truly be a god--eternal and all powerful. It's my destiny, barbarian. No one can stop it, and no one should. It's right and just!"

  Renstad pointed at the jar of powder that Tannis had been feeding from. "Some concoction of yours?"

  "My blood, dried into dust," said Jarvin. "Anyone who consumes it will willingly choose to serve me, and in return I grant them power. Go ahead and have a taste. You'll have no regrets."

  Renstad wondered if he should make a mad dash for the door. His instincts told him he wouldn't make it--that even though he was a powerful warrior, the giant before him could easily stop him. But was this truly Jarvin?

  "You want to flee," said Jarvin. "You're not ready to serve. How unfortunate for you. But I could use a great warrior and leader like Renstad the Red Axe, so I'll spare your life for now and give you time to think it over."

  Jarvin leaned forward. "Tell me something, brother. Have you ever smoked some good Mokesh leaf? I have some."

  Renstad shook his head. "I don't smoke."

  Jarvin's eyes widened. "Oh, I see. You're one of those straight-laced, boring fellows. I'll bet no one's allowed to have any fun around here, thanks to you. Maybe that's why so many people here kill themselves. That thought ever creep into your snobby, righteous brain? What kind of barbarian are you, anyway?"

  Jarvin leaned closer, blowing smoke into Renstad's face. "So what do you think, brother? What's going on in that shiny black head of yours?"

  "What of the others?" said Renstad, ignoring Jarvin's antics along with the urge to cough. "Why did you have them imprisoned?"

  "Kelden must die," said Jarvin, "and I think you already know why. I care nothing about his companions, save for the former seer, whom I shall also offer my blood to. But we've talked enough. You may go now, if you wish."

  Renstad glanced at the door. "I can just walk out of here?"

  Jarvin smiled and blew a perfect smoke ring. "You can." He chuckled, watching the smoke ring rise to the ceiling. "Ha! That was my best one all day!"

  "Then I guess I'll be going," said Renstad.

  Jarvin waved. "Fair journey."

  Renstad started to turn away, but then with a howl he flung himself at Jarvin, his axe swinging with berserk rage. He threw all his power into that single blow, his mind screaming for the giant's head to split and his corpse to be driven to the floor. Deep inside he hoped this actually wasn't a prank, because it was about to end in bloodshed.

  Jarvin batted the axe aside like a twig and it clattered off the wall. He caught Renstad by the throat and lifted him into the air. His long nails dug deep into Renstad's flesh, drawing blood. "I should kill you for that, brother," Jarvin said. "How dare you attack a god? It's unthinkable and fills me with rage! But like I said, I could use a man of your talents." He twisted Renstad about. "Take a look at that, my barbaric friend."r />
  Tannis had gotten excited and had dumped the whole jar of powder down his throat, his head tilted back. He was choking to death on Jarvin's so-called dried blood, a mad, gleeful look in his eyes. His body trembled in delight as he strangled.

  "Such loyalty," Jarvin mused. "But we can't let him go all the way. Wessop, turn him. Then take his food away. He needs no more of it."

  Wessop hurried over and slammed Tannis on the back to clear his throat. "Come on now," Wessop growled. "Spit it up, Tannis. And what's that in your lap?"

  Wessop lifted an object from Tannis' lap and slammed it down on the table. It was the large, horned head of a Hetheope. It was all that remained of Renstad's most loyal companion.

  Renstad cried out in shock and fury. That was the last thing he saw before a blow to the back of the head smashed him unconscious to the floor.