* * * * *
Zohak, the evil brother of the Firestarter Atar, has made the ultimate pact with the demons. He learns that the power the dragon-snakes have given him does not come without a cost. He is horrified to find that they require human brains for food.
Atar is faced with the final test. The winner gains the throne of the Persian Empire. Meanwhile, the kingdom is wracked with disturbances. The drought has caused famine. Zohak institutes a monstrous tithe, and Kava the blacksmith loses his family.
The Army of the People rises under Atar and Kava, but they are faced with an Imperial army now composed of full and part blooded demons, sorcerers, and wizards. Their only hope is the power contained in the body of Atar the Firestarter, but he must first find a way to activate it.
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Banner of Fire
Copyright © 2012 KB Forrest
ISBN: 978-1-77111-193-5
Cover art by Martine Jardin
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.
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Banner of Fire
(Fire Chronicles 4)
By
KB Forrest
Chapter One
A hissing sound made him startle awake. The things were hungry. Desperately hungry. His shoulders burned. Nausea bloomed in him. It affected not just his stomach, but also every part of his body. The things wanted food. The vile, snaky odor of the creatures assailed his nostrils, but he refused to move. One of the creatures slithered through his hair as if it knew how the feeling terrorized him. Zohak opened his eyes to see one of them looming over his face. Suddenly, it attacked him, and when he screamed, it slithered down his throat questing. Questing for food. It did not find what it wanted, so it emerged as he gagged violently.
Food. They needed food. He felt himself rising. He knew what they needed, and he’d have no rest until he gave it to them. He used his large bell to summon a servant woman. She came and lowered her head as she entered, bowing as was customary. He grabbed her by the hair and kicked the door shut. The snake-like dragons on his shoulders attacked. In their feeding frenzy, they sent up a fine pinkish spray, almost like a fog.
The woman screamed and flailed against the demons. Zohak vomited when the hair he was holding came away with the top half of her skull even before her desperate screams died away.
When they had finished eating, the woman lay on the stone floor in a large puddle of blood. Her head had been split open like a cantaloupe that had been cut in half and scooped of the innards. Zohak could not take his eyes off the emptied remains of her head. The skull was pink inside, but it had been licked clean. He fell to his knees in horror. He would never be free.
* * * *
Atar sat alone in his dark cell, fighting his fear. Hunger gnawed at his belly. He felt more miserable than ever before. The awful drip continued to mark the seconds. He refused to eat the mush and sat still, hoping for a rat. He thought about Bulliwuf with a worried frown. He hoped he was safe. He’d really put on a show at the trial. Zohak would try to find a way to kill him, but a werewolf is not easy to kill, or so Bulliwuf had said. Still, it bothered him.
An odd fragrance filled the chamber. It was like a mixture of fresh bread and sharp cheese. He smelled meat and spices, and cinnamon mixed with wine. His mouth watered, and he felt alarm. He didn’t realize he was hungry enough to hallucinate. He needed to get out of here. Resolutely, he sat still trying to ignore the aroma.
But it persisted.
Atar finally crawled toward the scent, cursing his weakness. Something hit his hand, and he ran his fingers over it. It was cool, smooth, like metal of some kind. It was a goblet. He raised it to his nose, certain he had lost his mind. But, no, the wine was real. It slid down his throat in a cool, sensual wave. The grapy flavor exploded on his tongue. He felt around, and discovered that the aromatic bread was there too. Its yeasty fragrance made him moan with delight. Savagely, he sank his teeth in. The meat was tender and spiced with sharp herbs he had never tasted. The cut was tender, utterly eclipsing the stringy game meat to which he was accustomed. It had a milder, pleasant taste, as if this beast had eaten only fresh grass its whole life.
He knew he was going mad. He was probably eating his own excrement. The thing he could not explain was that he didn’t feel insane. Did Ezad know he was mad? Was that what he was like now? He pressed the cup to his cheek. It was cool and smooth. It felt so real.
He finished the pastry on his plate. It was flavored with berries of some sort. The last thing on his plate was a bar of something perhaps like the sweets he’d eaten at the feast long ago. He felt the smooth surface of it. It scraped off with an almost buttery consistency when he tested it with his nail. He tasted it. He had never tasted this rich, earthy flavor before. It melted in his mouth. He was enjoying himself so thoroughly that he even forgot to be scared. If this is insanity, I can see why Ezad likes it.
It had the scent of Bulliwuf on it. Somehow, Bulliwuf had managed to have food delivered to him. Surely, the wolf had been able to read his mind and to see the hunger and fatigue. He felt better now and the wine warmed his body. He felt around in the dark. He was full, but he wondered if there was more. His hand encountered a thick skin, or maybe it was felt of the kind the Paralatae used. No, it was a cloth. He’d touched such a thing after the One Hundred Year Ceremony. He wrapped himself in it and fell into a sound sleep.
His dreams were broken by the tramp of feet approaching his cell. He heard the familiar rattle of keys, but he lay still. He had no desire to leave his cell, even though every moment was torture of the worst kind for him. It was a relief, though, to see light. He had an odd foreboding about the next test.
“Ey! Ridro? What in the name of Gayomard’s withered nuts is this?”
Atar looked up and his jaw dropped. A plate and a goblet of gold were on the floor in the middle of his cell.
How could Bulliwuf have gotten that enormous plate through the bars without opening the door?
“Hey gimme that!”
“No! It’s mine. I saw it first,” the second guard retorted.
“You liver of a bloated he-goat! I’ve got seniority over you!”
“The only thing senior about you is your dragging, flaccid man-part,” the first said.
He listened to the guards hurl curses at each other as they dragged him up and out of the dungeons.
As before, they took him to the Great Hall. They argued the whole way there. Atar was grateful to see the sunlight, but unable to truly appreciate it. The guards hurled him to the floor, and he sprang up, ready to bolt.
He saw Sophene take one look at him and turn away, as if unable to bear his
haggard, filthy appearance. The assembled nobles craned their necks and chattered amiably. Sugreeva backed away from Atar, making a face.
“Eek! How he stinks! Uh!” Sugreeva said.
Bulliwuf was there again. He smiled and winked at Atar.
There was a stillness and expectancy in the air suddenly. It seemed that the sunlight dimmed. Zohak entered the Great Hall through the big open doors. His form was outlined in sunlight. He wore his brightest armor. The sheer power emanating from him hit Atar like a fist. Then, as he walked toward the dais, two black snakes uncoiled from behind his neck. They peeked cautiously out of Zohak’s hair, and then shot upright. A great shout rang out, and someone screamed high above the noise. Atar scuttled backward, surprised and disgusted. He didn’t blame Sugreeva for screaming. Everyone on the dais rose to his or her feet. Somehow, Zohak seemed even more formidable than before. His shoulders seemed wider and his arms massive.
Zohak smiled slowly then he laughed in his rich baritone, seemingly delighted with the proceedings. “My people! Can you ask for a clearer sign from the gods? I have come into my power as king, as you see. I am almost a god. Indeed, I am part-god, as is clearly obvious.” Zohak stepped forward and the snakes waved in the air above his head, tasting the air and relishing the fear of the watchers.
“What have you done?” Queen Cunaxa demanded. Her face had gone pale.
Waves of repulsive power throbbed in the air around him.
“What have I done? Well, Mother, that is a question you should ask yourself. Now, do tell me of the little game you have planned for me today. Shall I jump through a flaming hoop naked, or maybe juggle crystal statues of invaluable cost without breaking them?”
“Silence!” Cunaxa ordered, narrowing her eyes. “If you choose to disrespect the proceedings then we shall award the kingship to Sugreeva by default.”
That put an end to his speech, but he continued to smile insolently. The snakes hissed disapproval and the assembled nobles drew back.
Bulliwuf addressed the court. “I am only a guest, but I will state for the record that rather than being a sign from the gods, the snakes Zohak sports are a gift of the demons. In particular…”
“Silence!” Zohak roared, but Bulliwuf smiled graciously.
“Sir, make no mistake. You have sealed a pact with the devil Iblis. Nobody does that without paying a huge price.” Bulliwuf seemed to shimmer for a moment.
Cunaxa’s face remained impassive. “Let us proceed.”
Atar’s eyes remained locked on Zohak’s snakes.
“The people have been suffering from the most terrible drought in history.” Cunaxa appeared to calm herself, but she remained quite pale. “It is the duty of the ruler of this land to see to the needs of the people.”
Zohak snorted, but Cunaxa continued. “I have had numerous petitions presented before me. I have spoken to eyewitnesses who have seen the Dragon. Yes, the people living near the mountain have seen a dragon inhabiting a cave. They claim that it is the fabled Dragon of Drought.”
“This is ridiculous,” Zohak said, laughing. “You know how those provincials talk! Dragons!”
“Well, then, there shall be no danger of a dragon dismembering you,” Cunaxa said smoothly. Atar heard Sugreeva squeak.
“You three shall go to the Dragon Caves to either subdue the dragon, or to comfort the people as a ruler should.”
Atar, Sophene said mentally, the Queen says that you are to go to the Dragon Caves.
What? Where…why? Atar could feel her pity and it filled him with dread.
Zohak’s smile widened. “As you wish, Mother. If the dragon exists, he will naturally bow before me, the Dragon King!” He mock-bowed to the people on the dais and strode out of the great hall with a swirl of his cape. Atar, Sugreeva, and everyone else watched his confident, easy stride. He left a lingering stench in his wake. It was the strong odor of snake.
Do not delay. Zohak has saddled his horse already. He is leaving with two guards. You must leave for the Dragon Caves. Head east at once. You are to subdue the Drought Dragon. Hurry! Ishria is in one of the palace pastures. After sending this mental message, Bulliwuf smiled as Atar stared after Zohak.
Atar stood for a moment longer. Dragon caves? Are they all mad? Then he turned and strode out of the chamber. Nobody stopped him. A company of about twenty guards was waiting outside for him. He scowled at them, but quit once he saw the way they looked at him. These were soldiers, not palace guards. These were the men he had led to victory. He had thought for a moment that they would just let him walk away from this whole mess, but he should have known better. General Monases stepped forward and greeted Atar warmly.
Atar was most displeased to see Heslin the Speaker Mage among the party of soldiers.
I thought you were with the Massagetae. I can’t seem to get rid of you, Atar informed the mind reader irritably.
Queen Cunaxa sent for me. I came as soon as I could, Heslin said in mind-speak.
They all walked outside. The wind was on his face. He took a deep breath. They walked to the pastures. Atar would have been delighted to walk in the open air again if he hadn’t had so much on his mind. They approached a stout wooden fence.
Before him in the distance, he could make out Ishria’s graceful form. Raising his fingers to his lips, he let out his whistle. Ishria’s head rose up abruptly. He regarded Atar for a moment then cantered forward. Atar took an instant to soothe Ishria before he saddled him. The soldier who handed him the saddle also handed him his mace and his tiger skin.
He says it is from Queen Cunaxa. You should be honored! Heslin said.
They are mine. He was beginning to be irritated by everything the man said, although he felt tender warmth for the Queen.
As they rode out of the palace gates and into the city, Atar’s head was whirling. The vision of the snakes shooting out of Zohak’s hair did not lose its intensity. He gazed at Ishria’s mane, but he was very conscious of the stares. They rode quickly through the city, without any of the pomp and ceremony of the last time he had taken this path. Still, the people watched.
Bulliwuf pulled up his horse beside Atar, who started. “Bulliwuf! I can’t believe it. How are you pulling it off? I thought you couldn’t hold your human form for very long.”
“It’s not easy, my dearest, but for you, in this terrible time…”
“But there have been other terrible times,” Atar broke in.
“You were always safe. This time is different. There is some very evil black magic brewing. Beware!” Bulliwuf was a sight wearing clothes. He’d never done that before. His shining silver hair streamed out after him in flowing, long ringlets. He wore a blue tunic of the finest silk. It was richly embroidered with wolves. Some of the silver wolves ran after game. Some of them were howling at the moon. The embroidery was so realistic and so fine that Atar could almost hear their lonely howls.
“Bulliwuf, what happened to Zohak? Did you feel the power? It actually carried into the chamber” Atar shook his head. “What are we supposed to do? Is there really a dragon?”
“There is one, but I can tell you very little about it. The people say that it is a drought dragon. We don’t have such monsters where I came from. But listen to me, Atar. I dreamed that Zohak is destined to win this contest.”
“But it’s a dream. Dreams…”
Bulliwuf drew his beautiful white mare closer. Ishria snorted in response. “Atar, I have not dreamed since I was a man. This does mean something, although I do not know what it means.”
Atar nodded.
“I must go for now, Atar. I will return as my wolf self. I can no longer bear this.” Bulliwuf turned his horse and cut into the forest.
They were just leaving the remnants of the city behind. Atar urged Ishria a little faster. The horizon opened up before them. A few hours passed.
Um… Heslin began. Uh… General Monases wants to tell you that it seems that Prince Sugreeva is following us.
Atar turned in his saddle. Sure enough
, curls bouncing, Sugreeva was tramping along behind him on his docile gray horse. He had about twenty men behind him as well. Atar stared at them for a moment, amused by Sugreeva’s plodding gray gelding. The poor lad bounced like a cork in boiling water. As he watched, Sugreeva urged his mount a little faster and leaned forward as if he were in a race.
Distantly, Atar heard him shout in a little voice. “Onward, my men!”
Atar shot the General a glance and smiled. Two hours later, Sugreeva had abandoned any attempt to disguise the fact that he was following them. Atar clearly heard Sugreeva composing a ballad for himself. He understood the words by listening to Heslin’s mind. He smiled.
“Sugreeva the mighty, he is very tidy, Tidy, what rhymes with that? Mighty, no I just used that.”
Bulliwuf appeared ahead. He trotted over, wagging his tail happily in a most un-wolf-like manner.
“Thank the gods you are back, Bulliwuf.”
Yes, a good day for dragon catching. You know, they say that dragon meat tastes like chicken, but it is fatal. It is so dangerous because the toxins in it are inactive for at least twelve hours. At that point, it is impossible to vomit up the meat, so the person dies a horrible, lingering death. Vomiting is followed by bloody diarrhea. Finally, the throat closes slowly so that one chokes to death. A slow death indeed, however, if one is bitten by a venomous dragon…
A horrible wheezing came from Heslin, who was listening, his eyes round and popping out like a mouse being stepped on by a hobnailed boot. Will we be forced to…will we die? Oh the gods! Is there really such a thing? I have a wife at home and two daughters as well.
Atar laughed. Heslin could hear Bulliwuf’s mind speech. The wolf was grinning. “Oh well, we can capture one and we will bring it back to the court. I’m sure Sugreeva would love one as a pet.
Oh no! Heslin said. That wouldn’t be permissible.
K B Forrest - [Fire Chronicles 04] Page 1
