Demon Lord V - God Realm

by T C Southwell

  Sarrin hesitated, half afraid to attract Bane's attention now that he was filled with the dark power and free of the shackles. The others seemed to harbour similar doubts, for they shifted uneasily, staring at him. Mithran and Grem looked sad. Kimi stood gasping, a hand over her mouth, and Sarrin guessed that she was frozen with terror, or she would have fled. Her feline features had vanished, and she had a plain, wholesome peasant face framed by honey-gold hair. The Demon Lord stood immobile, his head bowed as if harkening to some inner music. Sarrin berated herself for doubting him, reminding herself that he was tar'merin.

  "Lord."

  Bane swung around, and Kimi whimpered. Artan grabbed her as she tried to flee, grating harsh words in her ear. Sarrin gestured at the crippled, malformed people.

  "Frendar has only released us."

  "Pray to him, tell him to release all of them, or I will hunt him down and hurt him."

  She clasped her hands, and Bane turned to Mithran. "Father, go now, and hurry. I do not know if Morvanor will come, but if he does, you must not be here. Go, all of you."

  Mithran gazed at his son with sad eyes, then bent and picked Mirra up before striding away. Artan dragged away the terrified Kimi, snapping orders at his men, who picked up their burdens and hurried after him. Grem paused, hefting his sword, then followed Mithran with a curse. Sarrin hesitated, torn between her longing to remain at Bane's side and an equally strong urge to flee before Morvanor appeared. He flicked his fingers at her.

  "Go."

  Bane turned to face the town, his mind opened to the far-see by the dark power that filled him with its unnatural strength and brooding malevolence. Frendar's people rose to their feet, exclaiming in surprise and delight as they found that they had been restored to their original forms. They ran towards him, following Artan's group, and many called out words of gratitude as they passed, unaware of what he had become in the brief surge of shadow they had been too far away to witness.

  Bane made certain that all of them had been released, then turned and limped away from the town. His ankle throbbed, and he wished that air walking did not require such vast amounts of power, for it would have been a relief to fly. He had Gathered only a little, and intended to cast it out as soon as he could. The darkness ahead beckoned, and he had begun to hope that Morvanor would stay away when the dark god rose from the ground in his path. The people screamed and fled as two earth demons shot up on either side of their lord.

  Bane stopped and eyed Morvanor. The dark god's droge form was that of an eighteen-year-old boy, his sculpted countenance framed by golden curls, like his brother. His blue-green eyes raked Bane with a hard glance, his full lips twisted in a contemptuous sneer. Dark green trousers hugged his narrow hips, and a broad black belt with an ornate, ruby encrusted golden buckle held a silver-hilted rapier at his side. Tucked into it was a ruffled white shirt, over which he wore a silver-trimmed blue jacket that lacked fastenings, and hung to the back of his knees. Lacy cuffs protruded from the broad sleeves and shiny black boots shod his feet. He was almost a foot shorter than Bane, and possessed the feminine beauty of extreme youth, coupled with a rather weak chin. Dark gods usually chose to wear a droge form that was a perfected version of their former mortal bodies, and Bane wondered why Morvanor chose such a young aspect.

  "I have no quarrel with you," Bane said.

  "You steal our people."

  "I advise you not to try to stop me."

  Morvanor's lip curled. "Frendar may fear you, because he's a baby, but I don't."

  "Then you are either a fool or a liar, or possibly both." Bane stepped towards Morvanor, whose hand flew to the hilt of his rapier, his eyes narrowing. Bane snorted. "So you are a liar. No surprises there I suppose. Do not think that two earth demons are going to be of any use to you."

  Morvanor scowled. "Send the people back, or I'll kill all of them, including the ones you brought with you."

  "Now why would you imagine that I would care? I might find it annoying, and then perhaps I shall kill your brother, and maybe I will destroy you too, just for fun."

  "You won't find it annoying, because you'll be dead."

  Bane smiled. "You challenge me?"

  Morvanor's eyes raked him. "You're mortal, and injured. My brother wants his toys back, and I'm going to see to it that he gets them."

  "A dark god who loves his brother. A novel situation, especially given Frendar's power. It will be a pity to destroy you. What will Frendar do?"

  Morvanor raised a hand to signal to one of the earth demons, which sank back into the ground. "You're not going to destroy me. It will be you who dies."

  "We could swap threats all day, but what good does it do? If you want to challenge me, do it."

  Morvanor looked smug. "I already have."

  A sudden outburst of screams made Bane swing around. Earth demons shot up in the midst of the fleeing people, starting to chase them, and fire demons stepped from the pillars of flame. A slither of steel warned him, and the far-see gave him panoramic vision, allowing him to see Morvanor draw his rapier and lunge at him. Bane spun away, slowed by his weakness and his injured ankle, which protested painfully. Morvanor's rapier stabbed through the flesh of his flank, and Bane jerked up his head, using his mind power to hurl the dark god backwards several feet.

  Morvanor sprawled with a curse, then leapt up as Bane strode towards him. The Demon Lord raised his hand and unleashed a bolt of black fire that burnt away part of Morvanor's head. Without sunlight, however, injuring a droge form did little harm to its owner. Morvanor could easily have shucked it, but skipped away instead, the rapier brandished before him. His features reformed, and he pointed at the ground beneath Bane's feet, which opened with a grating rumble.

  Bane flung himself aside in the nick of time, cursing. He would have to Gather more power in order to fight Morvanor, something he was loath to do. From experience, he knew that the best way to defeat Morvanor was to grab him and Gather from him, a tactic that had worked in the past. Bane leapt at the youth, pain shooting up his leg, but Morvanor skipped aside as lightly as a dancer. From his foppish garb and the fact that he carried a mundane weapon, something dark gods did not usually do, Bane deduced that he was up against a trained swordsman.

  Bane summoned a sword, and Morvanor grinned. While he was distracted by the ploy, Bane reached out with his mind and tore a huge chunk of rock from a distant mountain and dumped it on top of the youth. Morvanor shrieked and flung up his arms as he was hammered to the ground. Bane waited for him to re-emerge, which he did a few moments later, minus his rapier. He glared at Bane and summoned another, his eyes flashing with rage. Screams of terror and agony came from the people who fled the demons, but for now there was nothing that Bane could do to save them.

  Battles between gods tended to be lengthy, and he feared that not many would survive, but those who were dear to him were safely away. Morvanor danced around him, lunging and slashing. He did not come too close to Bane, who turned to face him, his cloak flaring in the slight breeze that had sprung up. The youth seemed to be trying to tire him out, which was not a bad tactic, considering his weakened condition. He might also have been keeping Bane busy until the demons had killed all the people. Either way, he was succeeding. Being unable to Move hampered both of them, but it made it almost impossible for Bane to get close enough to grab his foe. Becoming invisible might give him a moment's advantage, but then Morvanor would do the same, and they would be equals again.

  Recalling Arkonen's almost successful tactic, Bane whispered the words of summoning, followed by a name. As he did so, he lunged at Morvanor, his sword aimed for the youth's gut. Morvanor skipped back lightly, straight into the arms of the earth demon that shot up behind him. He shrieked, and black fire burst from him, annihilating the demon as Bane's sword sank into his gut. He released it and grabbed Morvanor's arm.

  Taking hold of a dark god was always dangerous, and Morvanor was no exception. He stabbed the rapier at Bane's chest, forcing him to raise his left ar
m defensively. The rapier's blade broke on the stone cast, and Morvanor dropped the hilt. He reached for Bane's neck, his fingers lengthening and curling into claws. Bane clubbed his hand aside with his left arm, pain shooting from it as the broken bones grated together. Everything happened so fast that he had not started to Gather, but he did so now, causing Morvanor's droge form to warp. The youth's eyes widened and he beat at Bane, reaching for his throat again. The dark power he drew from Morvanor sickened Bane, so he cast it out, channelling it into the ground.

  Morvanor swore foully and shouted, "Frendar!"

  Bane's heart turned cold, and he whipped around, dragging Morvanor with him. If the child god was close by, there was no way to tell, but Morvanor had given Bane fair warning. He unleashed the power he drew from the dark god in broad sweeps of darkness, hoping to frighten the boy away. Morvanor shouted again, struggling against Bane as his droge form dwindled.

  White fire ignited on Bane's shoulder, and he gasped as it spread over him in a flash of pale flame. His air cut off, he staggered back, releasing Morvanor. Falling to his knees, he clutched his throat as he struggled to draw breath that was now denied him. Morvanor retreated, taking a moment to recover his droge form while he watched Bane with a sneer.

  "Now you die, mortal."

  The Demon Lord collapsed, tugging at his collar, his mouth stretched wide in a vain attempt to breathe. This had happened to him once before, long ago in the Lady's Temple of his own domain, but then Lyriasharin had saved him. Frendar certainly would not. Light gods controlled flesh, and, whereas they were helpless against a dark spirit god, a mortal dark god was easy for them to slay. Panic hammered at Bane's brain as a red haze clouded it, and he struggled to think. At the same time, he was aware that Morvanor had summoned another rapier, apparently intent on ending his suffering.

  The white fire only attacked the darkness. Bane rolled aside as Morvanor tried to thrust the rapier through his heart, but he lacked the strength to rise to his feet. Numbness stole through him as his remaining energy dwindled swiftly. Summoning his flagging willpower, he took hold of the dark fire within him and hurled it out in an unfocussed outpouring that exploded from him in a wall of shadow. The fury of the blast hurled Morvanor away with a choked scream. Bane forced the last dregs from his flesh, his sight leaving with it. The white flames winked out, and he flopped onto his back, gasping.

  Morvanor's dark red soul light loomed over Bane. He rolled away, struggling to rise to his feet. Weakness kept him on his knees as Morvanor attacked again, the rapier hissing through the air. Bane jerked up his head, sending Morvanor flying backwards to land with a grunt several feet away. Bane became aware of a shining soul close to the ground a short distance from him, and at the same moment, Morvanor gave a cry of anguish.

  Bane rose to his feet, staggering sideways as a wave of dizziness washed over him. Evidently the blast of black fire he had unleashed had injured Frendar. He turned to face the two soul lights, one dull red, the other shining white, so close together that they almost touched. Bane summoned the shadows, drawing in just enough to restore his far-see. Morvanor held the child god in his arms, blue fire blazing where they touched. The little boy gazed up at his brother with dazed eyes, gasping. Bane walked closer, and Morvanor looked up at him, his face twisted with anguish.

  "Help him!"

  Bane shook his head. "I cannot. You told him to attack me, did you not? How could you pit a child against me? Are you a complete fool?"

  "You're mortal! You should have died!"

  "But I did not. I did not intend to harm him. If he dies, it is on your conscience, not mine."

  Morvanor stroked his brother's cherubic face, gazing down at him with despairing eyes. Although he was a weak dark god, or perhaps because of it, he had sufficient willpower to love his brother against the wishes of the dark power, a significant achievement. Bane turned his attention to the demons that strode about the town, seeking the people who hid in the houses and fled their approach. The earth demons smashed the structures, rendering them useless for future refuge, and crushed the fleeing occupants. Fire demons turned people to ash with white-hot eyes, stalking between the huts to pick off any who emerged. Bane did not think that many had survived, but he walked towards the demons, intent on saving the few that he could. As soon as he was close enough, he raised his hand and made a sweeping gesture.

  "Begone!"

  Most of the earth demons sank down into piles of foul soil, and many of the fire demons vanished with inrushes of air. The few that remained, he banished with a second command. The people stumbled to a halt and stared around in amazement and relief, some spied Bane and gaped at him. Others emerged from the ramshackle huts, looking dazed and frightened. Bane gestured at the darkness beyond the town.

  "Go."

  They stumbled towards the road, exhausted by their ordeal but eager to leave the town. As they shambled past him, a young woman ran to him and tried to throw her arms around him in a frenzy of gratitude. Bane reacted instinctively, his reflex an unfortunate result of his previous ordeals and the distrust they had engendered, mixed with the dark power's influence. Before she touched him, he jerked up his chin and hurled her backwards to land with a soft cry of pain on the stony ground. A few others helped her up, and she appeared to be unharmed, but she cast Bane a look of confusion and hurt.

  Bane turned to Morvanor and his brother, who remained where he had left them. If Frendar died, he would expect Morvanor to hunt him down and seek revenge, even if it cost him his existence. He hoped that the child god would survive. The power he had unleashed had been unfocussed, but it appeared that Frendar had not possessed shields. The boy was too young to learn how to use his power properly, and it was quite surprising that he had lived this long, even with Morvanor's help. They were pitiful examples of lesser gods, foolish and ignorant. He turned and followed the people out of the town.

  By the time Bane caught up with the others, they had left the light of the fire pillars behind and were camped in a dark, rocky gorge, waiting for him. On his way to their camp he passed through a group of newcomers who had escaped before the demons had attacked, about twenty of them. With the fifty he had saved, he now had another seventy people in his charge, and he wondered how he was going to protect them. Even if he kept his power, it would be impossible.

  All he could do was try to find a light domain and hope that they would gain entry. The dark power mocked his concern for them, urging him to leave them to wander in the dark until they perished, or obliterate them. In his weakened state, he was far more vulnerable to its influence, and found his anger rising at the unwanted responsibility they represented. When he limped into the light of the fire his group had built, Mithran rose and approached him with a smile of relief, clasping his shoulder.

  "Are you all right?"

  "Fine." Bane sat down beside the fire, his ankle throbbing.

  "Morvanor didn't challenge you?"

  "He lost."

  Artan leant forward. "Kimi has told the people what you are, and they're afraid. I explained that you're not bad, but she didn't understand. She thinks we're under a geas."

  Bane rubbed his brow, weariness settling upon him like a lead cloak. The wound in his side throbbed and his head ached. The dark power mocked his weakness, urging him to rid himself of these pathetic people who tried his patience with their stupid concerns. It sickened him, and he struggled against its malicious whispering. His bile rose, and he rose to stumble away on aching legs. Sarrin jumped up and ran after him.

  "Lord, what is wrong?"

  "Leave me," he snarled, and she retreated. Sinking down on the rocks, he spread his hands and cast out the dark power. He hated its venomous urging and evil influence, which tainted his thoughts with unwelcome anger. The after effects of his ordeal in the shackles were even worse than he had feared, and he could stomach its presence no longer. While he was alone it did not trouble him much, but when he was in the company of people their questions and concerns goaded it, and it
infected him with its rage. As the last dregs left him, he shivered, chilled by its absence and much weaker without it. His sight faded, and he drew his cloak around him, his head spinning as his strength drained away.

  Sarrin gazed into the darkness where Bane had gone, filled with concern. Mithran looked grim, Grem frowned as he concentrated on honing his sword, and Artan stared into the fire, his expression shuttered. The silence hung thick around them, only the snap of the fire breaking it. Sarrin could bear it no more and rose to her feet.

  "Something is wrong. I am going to find him."

  Artan looked up. "He wanted to be alone."

  "He is ill. He might need our help."

  Mithran rose and pulled a faggot from the fire. "Then I'm coming with you."

  Sarrin found Bane where she had left him, huddled in his cloak, his face pale and drawn in the flickering light of Mithran's torch. She touched his shoulder, and he turned his head. A slight, rueful smile curled his lips. "I cannot walk."

  Sarrin took the torch from Mithran, and he helped Bane to his feet, supporting him as they stumbled through the rocks back to the camp. There he sank down with a sigh, holding his hands out to the fire. Sarrin sat beside him and gazed at him with deep concern.

  "What happened?"

  "I might have killed Frendar."

  Sarrin's heart sank. "You are uncertain?"

  "He looked quite ill when I left, but he was still alive. I did not mean to harm him, but he tried to kill me." Bane rubbed his brow.

  "He was a fool to attack you."

  "He is a child. His brother undoubtedly hatched the plot." Bane recounted the tale in short, clipped sentences. When he finished, Sarrin bit her lip, glancing at Artan, who stared into the fire with glazed eyes. Mithran grunted and shook his head; Grem paused in his honing and frowned at his blade.