Duel With A Demoness (A Huntsman's Fate Book 2)

by Liam Reese

  Although fright grabbed at Besmir, making his entrails squirm coldly, he knew Sharise could not do anything but threaten him. His father shrieked on the sand at his back but Besmir fought not to let his panic overwhelm him and remained as still as he had on the sand.

  Sharise paused as soon as she realized he was not afraid and set him back on the sand, unscathed.

  Joranas grabbed Besmir in a hug, his whole body shaking.

  “Don’t do this,” he begged into Besmir’s ear. “The Gods are all powerful and can destroy you with a thought.”

  Besmir knew his father was wrong but a lifetime of belief could not be changed in a few heartbeats and so Besmir clamped his mouth shut against the tide of words that wanted to flow from him.

  “Maybe you should go and see mother,” he managed.

  “You will remain,” Cathantor ordered.

  Joranas gulped and bowed as something huge flapped its wings above them.

  The bird had at least twenty feet of wingspan, each feather lovingly created in the mind of Mwondi as he glided in on unseen currents. The immense bird had yellow skinned feet with black talons easily capable of lifting an ox. His beak was around four feet, an orange blaze as it reflected the sunlight and his eyes were the piercing orbs of an eagle. Besmir had seen those eyes before but in a different form, outside the embassy in Wit Shull, the Corbondrasi capital.

  The bird landed, his flapping wings driving a spray of cold sea in their faces as it skimmed the surface of the water. Mwondi flickered into his normal form before he had touched the ground, his feet landing lightly on the sand a few feet from them.

  He looked almost normal, Besmir thought as he crossed the final few yards to where they stood. His arms ended in hands with fingers and he had a human form but he was feathered almost like a Corbondrasi but with none of the colorful plumage they displayed. Mwondi wore a coat of dark brown feathers, a few black, with lighter patches over his eyes.

  The three Gods stood in silence, looking at each other as Besmir waited, his anxiousness growing by the second. Eventually he coughed loudly, slapping his chest to make even more noise.

  “It is thy belief this is the one?” Mwondi asked Cathantor as he pointed at Besmir.

  “I believe so, brother,” Cathantor replied in a completely different voice to the one he spoke to Besmir in.

  “Mortal,” Mwondi said. “Thou hast been chosen to end Porantillia whom thee freed against our wishes.”

  Besmir looked at each God in turn, his face a mask of disbelief.

  “Oh, right,” he said. “That’s it is it? Just end Porantillia?” He snorted a derisory laugh. “You three couldn’t,” he said. “Actually wasn’t it four?”

  Mwondi’s face fell as he stared at Cathantor with utter sadness and pain carved into his feathered features.

  “Thou hast been informed well,” Mwondi said in a voice that brought despair to Besmir’s heart.

  His pain at the loss of his youngest sister was so great and eternal it would be too much for any mortal to bear. The Gods were supposed to live forever so the grief he, all of them, felt was a never ending torture they would bear until the universe died. While humans might eventually learn to cope with the death of a loved one, for the Gods it was impossible. Besmir heard all he needed to in Mwondi’s voice as the God carried on.

  “Deurine was the youngest and gave of herself to create the absence so much she faded to naught. Yet where we have failed, thee might succeed as Porantillia has bound herself to a living host and may yet be slain.”

  Horror overtook Besmir as he realized what they meant him to do.

  “I-I can’t,” he begged. “I won’t do it. There’s no way I can kill Keluse!”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Keluse’s mind could not conceive of how large the city that lay before her was. Porantillia had brought them to the edge of a plain and a vast, dead forest, that had a city so large it out sized the Corbondrasi capital. Keluse took in the endless rows of buildings and myriad streets, all laid out in a grid like pattern. As far as she could tell the buildings might stretch on forever and every single one was devoid of any life.

  It is barely changed. Porantillia thought. I can imagine the people who lived here going about their mindless tasks like ants in a nest.

  Until you came here? Keluse thought.

  Thy guess is correct, woman. The first people, who lived here, were favored by Gratallach so it was my initial target. I find amusement in stashing my new body here, along with the other prize.

  Keluse was unable to understand what the Goddess was thinking about, her own mind still wrestling with the size of the city she was facing. Porantillia turned, seeking a way down into the valley, soon finding an easier path that would lead to the city.

  They called it Ludavar. Porantillia thought as she strode down the scree filled path, skidding and sliding. The great capital of Aristulia. Her thoughts took on a mocking tone. That came here, you know? Those half breeds that refer to themselves as Gods. Came here to mingle with their creations and be fawned over, worshiped. That is why I chose to begin here.

  But they stopped you, didn’t they? Keluse asked.

  They managed to bind me for a time. Porantillia replied. Until thy friend Besmir released me.

  You tricked him and kidnapped his son!

  And it was an easy thing to do. Porantillia gloated. As simple as he is himself.

  You’ll underestimate him. Keluse said. He’ll never let you get away with hurting his son.

  Mocking laughter echoed inside Keluse’s head.

  Idiot child! I have no need of the boy any longer. They have already failed. Their attempts to bind me have failed and once more I am to end the life of anything containing the life force of Gratallach.

  Keluse tried to shroud her thoughts as she saw a curl of smoke rising far to the west side of the city, hoping it was only one person.

  He is here! Porantillia thought.

  Strange feelings flowed through Porantillia at the sight of the smoke. Part of her disregarded it completely while another feared it was Besmir and what Keluse believed he was capable of. Another feeling of loneliness struck her as she thought about why he was here. To save his son and friend. While not a being in the universe would lift a finger to come to her aid if she needed it.

  It is good I do not need help from anyone in that case. Porantillia thought to herself.

  Even you would like a friend of some kind. Keluse murmured, reading her thoughts.

  I had one. Porantillia thought sadly. He chose another.

  The Goddess slammed a door shut, clamping down on the feelings that plagued her as she marched towards the massive city of Ludavar and whatever she had secreted there.

  “You have blinded me,” Tiernon said when he finally came round.

  Collise could feel the tight pain from the swelling at the base of her skull and the incessant banging thud that pounded through her head. True she could not see but there was no pain in her eyes, simply the feeling of cloth around them and she knew Branisi had blindfolded her.

  Branisi! I am here. Help me! Collise screamed but the words would not come.

  She heard her father chuckle in her voice and hated him for it. All the stories had been true! Tiernon was evil, selfish, violent and power hungry.

  That may be true, daughter of mine, yet you burned your own mother to death.

  It was an accident! Collise cried.

  The first ones always are. Tiernon growled Still now we are bound and blind there will be little chance of fun.

  Collise felt sick. Her father’s idea of fun was burning people alive! Listening to them shriek and scream as the fire licked at them. Any notion she had had that he had received an unfair end at Besmir’s sword were washed away as she flowed through his thoughts, seeing the disgusting things he had done.

  That thing made me this way. Tiernon thought defensively. Porantillia and her demonic beasts whispering in my ears day and night. I couldn’t bear it. It was she wh
o drove me to madness.

  You should have ended yourself. Collise thought spitefully.

  So true, my child.

  Collise felt a grin spread across her face and hated the way it must look.

  Yet if I had, you would not exist.

  Good! Collise snapped. I wish I had never been born!

  And be denied the chance to meet your father? Tiernon asked with sarcasm lacing his thoughts.

  Collise did not reply as she heard footsteps approaching, a door being opened.

  “Who’s there?” Tiernon called in her voice. He wanted to sound scared, as if it was she who asked rather than him.

  “Branisi,” her voice filled Collise with calm.

  If anyone could help her it was Branisi. But how was she supposed to tell her Tiernon was in control of her when Tiernon was in control of her.

  “Help me, I don’t understand,” Tiernon chirped in her high voice. “Why am I in the dark.”

  “We’ve bound you,” Branisi said. “To stop you killing anyone else. When King Besmir returns he can deal with you.”

  “Besmir!” Tiernon spat, his stolen voice cracking. “He is the one who put me here!”

  Collise could hear the confusion in Branisi’s voice as she spoke.

  “What are you saying? You never met the King.”

  “Idiot woman!” Tiernon raged. “I am the king! And you will release me if you value your life.”

  Collise heard Branisi sigh.

  “It’s true, then,” she said, almost as if she were talking to herself. “They said you had gone mad but I had to hear it for myself.”

  “What are you wittering on about, woman?” Tiernon demanded. “Release me immediately.”

  Trapped inside her own body, unable to speak or move, Collise began to laugh.

  What is so funny? Her father demanded.

  You! She said with a giggle. You don’t sound anything like me. I talk completely different so all you are doing is making sure they keep you here.

  Collise laughed, the sensation odd as she could not feel her belly moving. For some reason she found that even funnier and guffaws of uncontrollable laughter rang from her mind, spreading through to Tiernon’s consciousness.

  He in turn started to laugh but as he was in Collise’s body, sounded odd to his own ears and he began to laugh hard as well. Collise could hear his thoughts as he tried to stop laughing but they were all in vain. She could feel the ache from her belly now as her father laughed in her body.

  “Oh, Collise,” Branisi said sadly. “I’m so sorry.”

  For some reason her pity and sadness made them both laugh harder and Tiernon rocked in the chair he was tied to, trying to escape as Branisi left.

  “May the Gods have pity on you,” Branisi said as she closed the door, leaving a young girl tied and blindfolded in a stone cell.

  “None have so far!” Tiernon cried to the empty room.

  Why did you force yourself on my mother? Collise asked abruptly.

  T’noch convinced me to breed as it would give me an army one day. The thought came to Collise laced with sadness and she reached out to look through his memories. Collise flinched back when she came across T’noch. A hideous, multi-jointed thing that should never have existed, even his memory of it frightened her.

  How do you think I felt? Her father asked. It whispered to me day and night until I didn’t know whether its voice was in my head or not.

  A wave of repulsion washed over Collise as Tiernon thought back to some of the things he had done at T’noch’s suggestion and she could tell he had some measure of guilt inside him.

  Gods, what did I do?

  Images came at Collise as she tried to hide. Vile memories he had of throwing fire at children in tents and burning down people’s homes. She saw people, so many people, fade to nothing on the table she had touched in the palace, their dead husks discarded like trash.

  She watched as a young girl, barely older than Collise, approached Tiernon in his throne room. She had been pretty, young and innocent and Tiernon had driven her insane, ripping her mind apart until she became little more than his pet.

  He recalled sealing someone behind a thick wall of wood, leaving him to scream and beg as he left him there so starve alone in the darkness. Later the same man had been gradually sinking into a wall overlooking the horrible altar. Collise saw the man, Shorava, beginning to fuse with the wall, becoming part of it as he hung by the hands.

  Stuck within the prison of her own body Collise screamed as the awful images, thoughts and memories flooded her mind. Horror, fear and sadness mingled with nausea as hundreds lost their lives at the hands of her father.

  Then there were the women. So many women he had used in the vilest of ways, Collise’s mother included. Collise had come to understand what he had done to Deremona but to recall it in detail was more than she could bear.

  With no outlet for her emotions, as she could not scream or cry, Collise felt her mind stretching as if it was about to give way or snap and she welcomed the break if it would let her be free of the horrible images he recalled.

  Joranas looked over and smiled at Whint who was apparently always happy. Now he was helping the strange man around their little home, tasks got done in half the time and they spent many afternoons talking and lounging in the shade.

  “Remember anything yet?” Joranas asked with a smirk.

  “Actually, yes,” Whint replied.

  Joranas sat up, staring at the other man as he reclined at the base of a wall.

  “Really?” He asked in surprise.

  “Yes,” Whint said again, moving into a cross-legged position and fixing the boy with a stern gaze. “I remember you are annoying,” he finished with a grin.

  Joranas stared at the odd man he had come to like with a smile spreading across his own face. He jumped up and darted across to where Whint started to laugh, launching himself at the dark skinned man and trying to wrestle him.

  “Annoying, am I?” Joranas asked as Whint rolled backwards, digging his fingers into Joranas’ ribs as he dragged the boy down.

  Whint rolled, pinning Joranas to the ground and holding him there with one hand holding both wrists and his leg across Joranas’ thighs. Joranas struggled, his muscles straining against the prison Whint had him in. It was pointless, Whint held him as securely as if he was bound and he gave up trying to lay there panting as the man looked at him.

  “Oh dear,” Whint said. “It looks as if you are stuck.” Whint poked Joranas in the belly making him squirm. “What will you do?”

  Joranas’ eyes widened as he tried not to laugh but the feeling of Whint jabbing his finger into various soft places from belly to armpit grew too much and he yelled a laugh. He clamped his mouth shut against the sound but Whint continued tickling him until he could not stand it any longer and laughed until his stomach and ribs ached.

  “Oh stop!” He begged, still laughing. “Please, Whint. Please.”

  “Will you admit you are annoying?” Whint asked with a smile.

  “Never!” Joranas declared.

  He screamed more laughter as Whint tickled him mercilessly and the lad tried again to get free but Whint held him fast.

  “All right!” Joranas cried. “I submit!”

  “And you are annoying?” Whint asked again, tilting his head to one side.

  “Yes, I’m annoying,” Joranas cried. “Now let me go.”

  Whint released him and Joranas rolled to one side, getting to his knees and then his feet to look down at Whint who squinted back up at him.

  “Not as annoying as you are,” Joranas said with a laugh as he sprinted off.

  Behind him he heard Whint shout and jump up to give chase. Joranas’ feet pounded over the dark cobbles as he ducked down streets and rounded corners to try and escape Whint. Excitement bubbled up in his chest as he sprinted between former homes and blacksmiths, the stonemasons and carpenters that had all long gone.

  He had long since given up trying to decide what each
building had been used for, some of them seemed to sprawl out inside, rooms upon rooms creating a labyrinth as confusing as the city itself. His wariness of the city and the strange things that might also live there, or visit, had also slowly dwindled since he knew Whint could handle anything that came at them and he could summon fire at will.

  He dashed through a large, open square, the tall buildings set back, probably to allow for a market or public gathering. Eerie sounds echoed back from the buildings as his breathing came back to his ears but he heard nothing of Whint’s feet. Joranas slowed as he approached an incredibly ornate building, the face of it covered in carvings of people and animals he could not identify. The people looked vaguely similar to people he had seen but many of the animals were completely unknown to him. He saw a large, two-legged creature with sharp teeth and a line of scales down its back chasing people and attacking them. Another was being hunted, arrows and spears jutting from its hide as it fell to the ground.

  Joranas’ mind seemed to flow into the carving, the world spiraling and whirling around him as he stood there, transfixed. Around him the city came to life, the strange people from the fresco before him appearing like wraiths to walk and laugh and talk. Unusual aromas came to him as more of the past appeared, spices and hot metal from the forges mixed with the heady aroma of roasting meat and bread baking. Joranas stared in wonder at the people, all of whom were taller than anyone he had seen before, far taller than Whint even was. They moved with a kind of fluid grace similar to some of the dancers he had seen with his parents, their long limbs almost floating in the hot air.

  A group of children darted between the adults, laughing as they played some chasing game, Joranas thought about Ranyeen back at home and wondered what she was doing at that very moment. One of the children caught the arm of a burly man, knocking the basket he carried to the ground. He turned his stern face to the child who looked a little afraid as he cradled his knee. Abruptly the man grinned and squatted beside the child, pointing to his knee and offering a piece of cloth he drew from his clothing. The lad nodded, relaxing into a smile of his own as the man patted his graze gently and helped him back up.