"Your food." He turned to Artan and held out his hand. "My payment."
Artan frowned. "Ah, yes, well..."
Bane opened his eyes and sat up, his gaze sweeping the group and coming to rest upon the feast. He rose to his feet, swaying a little. "How much do you require?"
"Five gold pieces."
Bane reached into his tunic, and when he drew forth his hand and held it out, five gleaming gold coins rested in his palm. The cowled man took them with thin white fingers and retreated, waving the crowd who had followed them inside back. Most of them left, save for some of the more human-like ones, who retreated to lurk by the walls. Bane surveyed the feast again, and then turned to the cowled man, who stood just within the doors, which had closed, apparently of their own accord.
"Bring us wine, water and milk, a platter of steamed vegetables, and arrange baths in our rooms."
"That will cost another five gold pieces."
Bane reached into his tunic again and paid the man, who nodded to some of the people who waited by the walls, and they left. Bane sat at the table and served himself from the platters of meat, and the rest of the group followed his example. Ethra leant closer to him and tried to ask where the gold coins had come from, but nothing came out of her mouth, and she gasped in astonishment.
Bane shot her an amused glance and raised his finger to his lips. She scowled at him and settled down to eat instead, helping herself to a cup of milk when the servants brought out the refreshments he had ordered. The meal was delicious, and the group gorged themselves, except for Bane, who ate sparingly. The cowled man stood just within the door the entire time, watching them, and listening, Ethra suspected, but apart from complimenting the food, nothing was said at the table.
When they could eat no more, the cowled man led them up the stairs at that back of the room to a hall above, where he showed them to ten separate rooms, each equipped with a steaming bath. Ethra's room was spacious but furnished only with the bare necessities, two large windows allowing the fire pillars' light to pour in. Thick black velvet curtains framed them, clearly intended to block out the endless light and give a semblance of night so the occupant could sleep.
Ethra enjoyed the hot bath, but being separated from her companions made her nervous. As soon as she had dried herself and dressed in her spare clothes, she crept down the hall to Bane's room and let herself in. When she turned from quietly latching the door, she found him reclining in the tub, watching her, and averted her eyes with a gasp, her cheeks growing hot.
"I'm sorry."
"Come here."
Keeping her eyes on the floor, she approached the tub, and he chuckled. "You may look at me, Ethra."
Timidly she raised her eyes, a quick glance showing her that the water in the tub was opaque with soap. "How -"
Once again the words would not come, and Bane raised a finger to his lips, then made some casual movements with his other hand and muttered a word. "Now you may speak."
"You've been stopping us from saying things, haven't you?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
He sighed. "Because you would have said the wrong things. This is a strange place, and I am suspicious of it."
Ethra sank down on the solitary chair, studying him. His wet hair was sleek against his narrow skull, accentuating the deep widow's peak and robbing him of some of his daunting demonic looks.
He added, "I have cast a spell of silence on this room. If they are listening, they will hear nothing now."
"You don't know if they are?"
"Unfortunately my powers are limited now."
"How did you make the gold coins?"
He shrugged, swirling the water with his hands. "I collected a few small stones on the way here, and changed them."
"You can change stone into gold?"
"Yes."
"Show me!"
Bane smiled and held out his hand. Ethra stared at it in confusion for a moment, then realisation dawned and she jumped up, hunting around for something to give him. Finding a pottery jug on the table, she brought it to him and placed it in his hand. It shimmered, its substance appearing to swirl in shifting patterns, then it turned to gold. She gasped, taking it from him to gaze at it in awe.
"Turn away," he ordered, and she studied the jug while he got out of the tub and dried himself before donning his trousers. When she looked up, he lay on the bed, looking tired.
"What else can you turn into gold?"
"I can turn anything into almost anything."
"Flesh?"
"Of course, but I cannot change anything into living flesh."
Ethra gazed at him, puzzled. "Why not?"
"Only a light god can do that."
"Why?"
"Because that requires the white power, which I cannot use."
"Have you ever tried?"
He smiled and closed his eyes. "Once, a long time ago, a light goddess channelled it through me. It burnt me."
"But that must have been a lot, if you only used a little..."
"I cannot summon it. And yes, I have tried."
"Are you reading my mind?"
Bane chuckled. "No. If I was, you would feel it."
"So you could?"
"Yes."
She looked down at the gleaming jug. "I suppose, being a god, there's not much you can't do."
"Not much."
"Why are you so suspicious of this place?"
"It is unnatural. There are forces at work here that can only be achieved by a god. Fortunately, I think it is a light god, but that does not mean it is not a dangerous place."
"But how -" Ethra jumped as a knock came from the door.
Bane opened his eyes and called, "Enter."
Artan slipped in, looking nervous, and approached the bed to bow. The Demon Lord gestured to the chair Ethra occupied, and she vacated it, moved to the bed and perched next to Bane's feet when he indicated that she should do so. Artan sat down and cast Ethra a hard glance.
"I hope she's not bothering you, My Lord."
"Not really. How may I help you?"
Artan leant forward. "I dislike this place. I think we should leave as soon as possible."
"I agree."
"Bane thinks that there's a light god here, controlling this place," Ethra said, and Artan scowled at her.
"Who gave you permission to use his name?"
"You were doing it -"
"That was before -"
Bane held up a hand. "Enough. I do not care who calls me what."
Ethra glowered at Artan, who turned to Bane again. "If this is the realm of a light god, why does it seem so unwholesome?"
"I do not know. There are many kinds of light gods, but the food we ate was created by one, and I think he or she provides for these people."
"Then why do they demand payment?"
"I do not know."
Artan glanced around. "That's why you don't want them to know what you are?"
"Yes, that is why I changed what you said."
"So we will leave tomorrow?"
Bane sighed and shook his head. "No. I need to rest, and a litter is not a restful place. If we encounter danger it will weaken me, and I must regain my strength. This place is safer than the unknown that lies beyond it, and there is food here for you. We will leave as soon as I have recovered sufficiently to travel."
"Yes, My Lord."
A heavy silence fell as Artan digested the summary veto of his plans, then his eyes fell on the jug Ethra clutched and widened. "Where did you get that?"
She looked smug. "Bane gave it to me."
Bane smiled. "No, I did not. Give it back."
Ethra pouted and continued to clutch it for a moment before she handed it to him with sulky reluctance. Bane placed it on the small table beside the bed, where it collapsed into a pile of gold coins.
Artan gaped at the coins, and then leant forward again. "My lord, if this god is watching us, he will know what you are from your powers."
"Up to a p
oint, if he was, which he is not. He would only know that I am a mortal god, not that I am a dark one."
"Is that a good thing?"
"Yes, because he will not consider me a threat."
Artan frowned. "I dislike that we've been separated. It's not safe. These people are not to be trusted. Perhaps I should stay here to guard you while you sleep, My Lord?"
"That will not be necessary. These walls are sufficient protection, and the door will not open unless I allow it."
"What about the rest of us?"
Bane glanced at Ethra. "Yes, I am remiss. Perhaps you should share a room with your warriors and my father and Grem, and barricade the door. The women may sleep in here if they wish, as will my wife, of course. All ten of us in one room would be a little crowded."
"An excellent plan, My Lord." He stood up. "I'll go and tell the others."
As the door closed behind Artan, Bane closed his eyes and yawned. Ethra glanced at the pile of dirty clothes he had shed before bathing, then at his dusty trousers.
"Do you intend to wear such dirty clothes?" she enquired.
He opened one eye. "Do I have a choice? I lack the strength to wash them, and although Mirra will doubtless wish to do it, I will not allow her to."
"Why not?"
"She is my wife, not my servant."
"I'll do it, if you wish."
"That would be helpful."
"Perhaps for a gold coin?"
Bane chuckled. "Ethra, if you desire gold, I will give you as much as you want. Just ask."
She bowed her head and bit her lip. "No, My Lord, I don't deserve it. You saved my life many times, and I wasn't nice to you."
He considered her, raised his arms and rested his head on his hands. "You were the one who came after me when I fell into the crevasse."
"But your friend would have saved you anyway."
"Yes, but if you had not found me, I would have had only Grem and Mithran to carry me, and they would not have had the strength to bring me this far, this fast. Kayos would have been forced to leave us before the dark god who was following him caught up, and we would still have been out there now, in danger."
She looked at him shyly. "I didn't carry you."
"Let us not split hairs."
Ethra stood and gathered up his discarded clothes, then turned to gaze pointedly at his trousers. Bane glanced down and grimaced. Pulling the sheet over himself, he removed them and handed them to her. Despite the soft splashing she made washing his clothes, and the interruptions when Sarrin and Mirra arrived and then when Ethra went to fetch her things from her room, Bane managed to doze until all was quiet. Ethra closed the curtains and he sealed the door before he fell into a deep sleep.
Chapter Seven
Blind God
Ethra opening the curtains to allow the ruddy light in woke Bane. Everyone was awake and hungry, even Mirra, who smiled and kissed him. They trooped down to breakfast, and consumed a pleasant repast that cost another five gold coins. The cowled man watched them from beneath his hood, or Bane assumed he did, since it was hard to tell if he had eyes in the cowl's darkness.
After breakfast they returned to their rooms, Bane to rest and the others to amuse themselves talking or fixing their equipment. The massive pillars of fire that lighted and warmed the town made a soft roaring that underscored everything, and lent an unsettling air to the place. When they grew hungry again, they went down to the common room and ate another delicious, expensive dinner, then returned to their rooms once more.
A blood-chilling scream jerked Bane awake, and he sat bolt upright. Impenetrable darkness filled the room, and even when he sharpened his sight he could barely make out the dark shapes that crouched where Ethra and Sarrin slept on the floor. Bane yanked the covers over Mirra and slid from the bed. Sarrin screamed again, beating at the creatures that crouched over her.
Bane's first instinct was to lash out with the dark power, but Gathering it while he was so weak was not a good idea, even if he was not so loath to suffer its touch again. His second urge, hot on the heels of the first, was to use his inborn powers, but he had not yet mastered them sufficiently that he could be certain of not harming Ethra and Sarrin.
In a split second he made his decision and summoned the blue power, drawing it from the air as easily as breathing. As it flowed into him, he channelled it and flung it at the dark shapes in a blazing blue bolt. Two of the beasts howled and leapt from their victims, smoke rising from their hides. Three others charged him, moving with unnatural speed. Bane tried to avoid them, but his weakness slowed him, and one struck him in the side, sinking fangs into his flesh. Bane cursed, and blue fire burst from his hands, scorching the beast, which howled again. He punched it, sending it rolling away, then the other two leapt at him, bowling him over.
A shriek from the bed sent an icy pang of alarm through him, and he unleashed the power of his mind, sending the two horrors flying away to smack against the walls with a sickening crunch of breaking bones. Another two left the struggling women and charged him, and he flung the blue power at them, consuming one in a fiery flare, but missing the other, which leapt at his throat. He flung up an arm, but the force of the impact made his head hit the floor with a resounding thud, and stars danced in his eyes. Becoming aware of a pounding on the door, he unsealed it, and it flew open to admit Artan and the men, along with a little light from the hall.
Bane jerked up his chin, sending the beast flying away, and it sprayed his face with something that burnt. Rolling onto his side, he pawed at the liquid, which scalded his hands as well. His eyes were on fire, and he rubbed them as the thuds, clangs, shouts and screams of a full scale battle rang around the room. The ten souls of his group were all there, assuring him that no one had died. Mixed with them were the small, dull red souls of dark beasts. Bane rose to his feet and staggered into the wall, hitting his head again. He slid down it and lay gasping, clutched his eyes and called Mirra.
After a last clang and curse, silence fell, then a pale soul light hurried over to him, and a sword clattered on the stone beside him. A strong hand gripped his arm.
"Bane! Are you all right?" Mithran demanded.
Bane shook his head. "My eyes!"
"Open the curtains!"
Another two people approached, and a third ran to the side of the room that had windows, then smaller, soft hands tried to pull his hands away from his face.
"Let me see!" Sarrin cried, her voice cracked with anguish.
Bane swore. "It hurts! Where is Mirra? Is she all right?"
"Bring water," she shouted at someone.
"Where is my wife?" Bane bellowed.
"She's all right; she's just unconscious," Mithran's voice assured him.
Bane writhed, cursing as the pain increased with every passing moment.
Sarrin crouched over him, trying to pry his hands away. "Let me see!"
Bane's urge to grip his face and rub his eyes was too strong, however. His panic mounted as the pain redoubled, making him long to rip his eyes out.
"Artan, help me!" Sarrin shouted. "You, hold him down. Get his hands away from his face."
Several more people gathered around Bane, and many strong hands held him down as others tried to pry his hands from his eyes. After several moments of struggle, Artan said, "It's useless. He's stronger than the lot of us put together."
"Bane!" Sarrin gazed down at him, her heart filled with despair. "Bane, listen to me! Let me see your eyes!"
The mottled red marks on his pale skin, arranged in a splash pattern around his eyes, made Sarrin's heart twist with anguish. Tears poured from under his hands, which gouged at his eyes in a frenzy of pain. Her ordeal made her weak and dizzy, and blood still oozed from the side of her neck. Ethra was worse off, and she was not sure the girl would survive, but she had to save Bane's eyes.
"Bane, I can stop the pain, just move your hands." She tugged at his hands again, and this time he allowed her to pull them away, groaned and drew back his lips in a snarl of agony.
Sarrin grabbed the bowl of water from the soldier beside her and poured it over his face, washing off the acid.
"Open your eyes."
Bane swore. "I cannot!"
Sarrin forced open one of his eyes to pour water into it. Bane groaned and smashed his fist into the wall, making her glad that he seemed to know he was hitting it and not a person. She did the same with his other eye, washing out the acid, but they were extremely bloodshot. The pain seemed to lessen, however, and he stopped writhing, but continued to grit his teeth, the muscles of his jaw bulging.
Sarrin turned to Artan. "Fetch me some milk."
Artan ran off, and she leant over Bane, wishing that she could examine his eyes, but he kept them screwed shut.
Sarrin looked around at the carnage, her stomach knotted with revulsion. The bodies of twelve dark beasts littered the floor in pools of brown blood, their hideous, misshapen forms partially covered with coarse black hair. Long fangs filled their jaws, and they gave off a rank stench. She glanced over at Ethra's still form, calling to the soldier who tended her, "Has she stopped bleeding?"
"It's slowing, priestess."
She turned to Mithran and Grem, who knelt beside Mirra on the floor beside the bed. "How is she?"
"She appears unharmed, but will not wake," Mithran said with a frown.
"She is a healer. She will be all right."
"She had little power left. I think now she has none."
Artan trotted back in, dragging a terrified girl who shrieked and tried to flee when she spotted the beasts’ bodies. He twisted her arm and marched her over to Sarrin.
"I don't get it," he said. "She doesn't understand me. She speaks gibberish!"
"Let me go!" the girl cried, and Artan looked surprised.
"But in the kitchen -"
"Never mind that now," Sarrin said. "We need milk, girl, at once!"
The girl nodded, and Artan released her, then followed her as she ran out.
Sarrin turned back to Bane. "Can you get up?"
Bane nodded, and Grem and Mithran helped him over to the bed, which he sank down on. Water dripped from his hair and ran down his chest, mingling with the blood that oozed from two puncture wounds in his side. Sarrin cupped his face and pried open an eye, dismayed by its redness and the tears that streamed from it. Artan raced back with a jug of milk, and she poured some into her hand, dripping it into Bane's eyes. He groaned, and blue fire sparkled at his fingertips, making the men step back. Sarrin kept pouring milk into his eyes until the jug was empty and milk ran down him. When she stopped, he bowed his head and blinked rapidly.
Demon Lord V - God Realm Page 10
