Black Scarlet

by R A Oakes

  If left unchecked, General Zarkahn could become more dangerous than Swarenth because the general’s insanity was based on fact, whereas Swarenth’s was based on emotional extremism. Factual insanity provides a stronger foundation for destructive action. Emotional insanity is more subjective and less precise. Factual insanity can be quiet and purposeful. Emotional insanity is more dramatic and prone to fits of rage, paranoia and insecurity. Factual insanity exhibits brutal, cold- blooded logic. Emotional insanity doesn’t make sense and has no discernable pattern.

  Therefore, General Zarkahn’s brand of insanity was more dangerous because it was functional and worked. In the long run, the general’s heartless precision would win out over Swarenth’s convoluted madness. But regardless of the brand of insanity, the end result would be horrifying.

  On one hand, Swarenth blatantly enjoyed the suffering of others and created macabre situations just to watch the tormented reactions of his victims. On the other, General Zarkahn preferred to remain emotionally detached. His compulsion was dispassionate warfare. For him, the resultant suffering, death, destruction and chaos were the inherent costs of conquest. To the general, suffering was neither pleasant nor unpleasant. It was just a fact of life.

  General Zarkahn’s unfeeling indifference could well result in even greater carnage than Swarenth’s lust for blood. A cold-blooded military dictator would prove a poor substitute for a cruel gargoyle king.

  So, King Tarlen now had two enemies. One with power, Swarenth, and one who wanted it above all else, General Zarkahn. More often than not, evil has a replacement waiting in the wings should one of its servants meet his demise. Evil doesn’t necessarily care who’s in charge as long as the person’s corruptible. And Swarenth and General Zarkahn both excelled in that area.

  Balzekior, an evil demonic woman, thus had two pawns in her game of spewing her venom into every corner of life. And General Zarkahn, one of the principal players in the final destruction of the Kardimont kingdom, sat waiting at Firecrest Castle for a chance to make his move. Before the night ended, he would get that chance.

  Unbeknownst to General Zarkahn, Balzekior had her own plans. From the moment Dylancia entered Firecrest Castle, the decrepit, old hag had but one goal in mind. She wanted to gain possession of the baby who was next in line to inherit the dark sword, Crystal.

  Balzekior told one of her minions, “Getting the baby is the key. With her, I could entice the dark sword, Crystal, into my service and she could get access to the Crystal Medallion. The Trinity of Darkness would be permanent. The baby would grow into womanhood always wearing the Crystal Medallion and wielding Crystal. I would make Dylancia queen of Dominion Castle. She and her line would rule for endless generations. I wasn’t able to close my trap on Chen during the battle at Crystal Castle, but I can kidnap the baby and raise her as my own child.”

  “But master, in your weakened condition, even if you do get free, we might not be able to kidnap the baby,” Balzekior’s demon minion had pointed out.

  Balzekior’s being at Firecrest Castle was no accident. During the battle between Chen and Lord Daegal for possession of Crystal Castle, cracks had formed in the earth’s crust allowing demonic lava to flow north. Firecrest Castle was at the very end tip of this lava crack, and the College of Wizards had put a spell on Balzekior trapping her there within a stone statue of herself. Being so far removed from the main body of lava, the source of her power, had weakened Balzekior considerably. Even so, the demon woman had a possible solution.

  “Fortunately, we have an ally to help us,” Balzekior told her minions.

  “Who?” one asked.

  “General Zarkahn.”

  “But he wants to give Dylancia back to Chen, doesn’t he?”

  “That’s only because he feels he has no more use for the baby. I’ll show General Zarkahn how Dylancia can help him achieve his ambitions. Once he understands the baby’s strategic value, he’ll want to keep her.”

  “How do we win his cooperation?”

  “He needs to find a way out of Firecrest Castle and past Chen. We’ll provide him with that escape route. We’ll also promise to side with him against Swarenth.”

  “Will you do that? Pick him over Swarenth?”

  “I don’t know. I could play them off each other in a prolonged conflict that would cause greater suffering than just backing one or the other.”

  “Yes, master, cause as many humans and gargoyles to suffer as possible. Make them squirm. Make them live in anguish, hopelessness, despair and torment.”

  “That does sound enticing.”

  “Drag them down, master, drag them all down!”

  ◆◆◆

  But now, back in Genevieve’s room, both Lord Stallington’s daughter and Dylancia were facing an even more immediate danger. Twenty gargoyles and five men were intent on taking their frustrations out on them.

  When one of General Zarkahn’s captains shouted, “Hey, guys, we’re going to plan B,” Genevieve somehow intuitively knew that things were about to unravel.

  Sounds of battle came through the heavy, wooden door as swords clashed and screams of agony filled the air. Genevieve became desperate, very desperate. She hadn’t been able to think of a way to escape, but now a previously discarded possibility came to mind.

  Holding Dylancia in her arms, Genevieve walked over to the window and looked outside. It was a long way down. Earlier, she’d considered creeping along a stone ledge that wrapped around the building, but it had seemed far too narrow to be safe, especially carrying a baby. Now, the ledge was looking better and better.

  Genevieve thought, We can’t stay here anymore. I’ve got to do something.

  Tying two ends of a baby blanket together, she made a sling. Then, after slipping her right arm, shoulder and head through the opening, Genevieve placed it across her left shoulder and slid Dylancia into the pouch, holding the baby tightly against her upper tummy and chest. Taking a deep breath, Genevieve climbed out the window and carefully positioned her feet on the ledge. Next, with grim determination, she leaned back against the wall and began inching along thankful for the moonlight.

  Before she’d gotten very far, Genevieve made the mistake of looking down at the courtyard below and saw what looked like miniature warriors walking around. The great height made her feel disoriented and lightheaded, and she started to lose her balance. Suddenly, a gust of wind came out of nowhere and shoved Genevieve back up against the stone exterior. Until then, it had been a completely still night without so much as a breath of wind. Providence, Genevieve said to herself.

  That, or something like it.

  With demon eyes capable of penetrating earth and rock, Balzekior had been watching carefully from the dungeon and had given Genevieve the help she needed at this critical time.

  “Watch your step. Bring the little girl to me,” the demon woman said, and although Genevieve couldn’t hear the decrepit old hag, Dylancia could. Restlessly, the baby began thrashing about inside her blanket in an attempt to escape Balzekior’s voice.

  “Be still, Dylancia,” Genevieve said quietly as she held the little girl even tighter to her breast. “If we’re going to get through this, we’ll have to do it together.”

  “Yes, we will,” Balzekior said aloud, even though she knew Genevieve couldn’t hear her. “I’ll help all I can.”

  If truth be known, just managing that little gust of wind had been an effort for the evil old crone. Her powers were greatly diminished being so far from the underground lake of demonic lava.

  The formation of the lake of evil-infested lava had taken place over centuries. The earth’s crust had been slowly shifting, dragging a massive, overlapping layer of rock across the surface of another. Then, one year, it had finally begun, and the ends of the two layers of rock parted slightly allowing demonic lava to seep up into a vast cavern located several thousand feet below the surface.

  Every year after that, the gap between the two layers had widened. What had begun as a trickle of demon
ic lava slowly became a stream. Gradually, the insurgent, red-hot, molten magma turned into a river flooding the entire cavern floor. The lava was under so much pressure from below that ever- increasing quantities were forced into the gigantic empty chamber.

  Around 30 years ago, the cavern had become almost completely filled creating a vast underground lake, a lake of fire located directly under Dominion Castle, which had been Balzekior’s plan all along. But not even King Ulray could forestall the doom that had been lurking beneath his very feet, for the Tiger of Dominion Castle had been barely aware of Balzekior. So effective were Zorya, Baelfire, and Aerylln’s predecessors in battling the forces of darkness that evil had retreated. But it had not left entirely. Like an injured beast, the demon woman had licked her wounds and waited to get her revenge.

  When the cavern was filled to the brim, and Balzekior was at the height of her power, the demon woman had returned with a vengeance overthrowing 500 years of Kardimont rule and capturing Dominion Castle. Only Zorya, Baelfire, Aerylln’s grandmother, Lyssa, and the College of Wizards had kept Balzekior from making a clean sweep of the entire Kardimont kingdom.

  However, Balzekior had made a mistake picking Swarenth to help do her evil deeds in this world, for he’d proven to be a disappointment. The gargoyle warlord was master of Dominion Castle, but he’d never progressed beyond his initial victories.

  So, now as Balzekior watched Lord Stallington’s daughter inching her way along the ledge, the stakes were enormous, not only for Genevieve and Dylancia, but for the decrepit, old hag herself. This baby in a snow-white blanket represented the demonic woman’s future, at least Balzekior hoped it did. She wanted to raise Dylancia as her own while infecting the child with full-blown demonic evil. Balzekior’s “daughter” would be her crowning glory.

  The demonic woman had taken aim at General Zarkahn as an heir apparent for Swarenth, but as Balzekior watched Genevieve and Dylancia perched precariously on the ledge, she began hoping that, eventually, she could eliminate the need for the general. If she could just get this baby within her grasp.

  After scrutinizing the window ledge, Balzekior began trying to plant ideas into Genevieve’s mind hoping to get Genevieve to do what she would have done had the demonic woman been in her shoes. But Balzekior was having too much trouble probing Genevieve’s consciousness. The demonic woman thought, This one’s got too much intelligence and willpower. All the decrepit, old hag could do was watch and wait.

  As Genevieve inched along the ledge, she became aware of her center of gravity and virtually saw, as well as felt, a thin horizontal line bisecting her. This helped her keep her balance, and, after almost 50 yards, Genevieve reached a spot where two walls formed an outside corner. At this point, she had a wall to lean back against and one to lean on with her right shoulder.

  Next, shifting her stance, Genevieve placed a foot on the ledge to her right and one on the ledge to her left. Finally, after having her back nestled against the corner, Genevieve felt safer and breathed a sigh of relief.

  However, looking at the ledge she’d just reached, Genevieve thought, By all rights, Dylancia and I should both be dead by now. It’s amazing that we got this far. But I can’t go any farther, I just can’t.

  Genevieve didn’t know how she was going to get herself to leave the relative safety of the corner. With the ledges coming together, she had twice as much room to stand on. It was almost like a little platform.

  If I were Chen, I’d probably be running along this ledge like a cat, Genevieve thought. But I’m not Black Scarlet. I’m me. Still, I’ve got to keep moving.

  But try as she might, she couldn’t get herself to budge from the corner. At first, she’d gotten mad at herself, but then her intellect took over, and she thought, Don’t beat yourself up. Most people wouldn’t have had the nerve to get this far. But what am I going to do?

  Suddenly, an opportunity presented itself. A window next to Genevieve swung out and away from her creating a nice, large opening. But there was a problem. One of Lord Ridgewood’s men was standing inside of it. The scruffy, shabbily-clad warrior began unbuttoning his pants, and Genevieve realized he was going to pee out the window.

  She averted her eyes. As grubby as this man was, the last thing she wanted to see was whatever was coming out of his trousers. His hygiene was atrocious, and Genevieve could smell the soiled clothing as well as an unwashed body that hadn’t seen soap for a long, long time.

  Out of the corner of her eye, she saw moonlight reflecting off of a steady stream of water and listened as the man heaved a great sigh.

  Genevieve quickly began searching through the folds of the baby blankets she’d wrapped Dylancia in. After a few moments, she found what she was looking for. Dylancia’s tiny dagger.

  Chen loved the jewel-encrusted, miniature knife that Lord Pensgraft had given their daughter and kept it in the folds of Dylancia’s blanket.

  Well, Chen’s fanaticism is about to pay off, Genevieve thought as she undid a safety clasp and tried to unsheathe the small dagger. It fit so snugly that she had to tug hard to pull it out. But when she held the little handle between her thumb and forefinger, what she had was a razor-sharp weapon.

  Genevieve looked at the man’s face and saw the relaxed, unguarded expression he wore as he continued to empty his bladder.

  Shifting her weight to her right foot, she leaned over towards the open window and thought in disgust, Oh, I hope I don’t actually touch it. Then, she took a deep breath and drove the knife into the man’s groin area.

  As he let out an ear-splitting howl, Genevieve slung one leg over the window ledge and shoved the weapon in even deeper. Next, she yanked out the dagger and rapidly stabbed the warrior three times in the throat, buying herself time to climb the rest of the way through the window. Once on a solid, stone floor, she felt relieved. Without allowing herself to savor the moment, she grabbed the handle of the man’s sword, pulled it out of its scabbard and slammed him in the face as hard as she could with the side of the blade, knocking him to the floor.

  Immediately, Genevieve turned and started walking towards the door, but she almost tripped when the warrior reached out with a filthy hand and grabbed her ankle. With his other hand, he tugged on her skirt and tried to pull himself up off the floor. Next, he let go of her ankle and grabbed a hold of the sling Genevieve was using to carry Dylancia. Struggling hard to stay on her feet, Genevieve was nearly dragged to the floor by the sheer weight of the man’s body. Sensing he had her at a disadvantage, the warrior renewed his efforts, hauled himself up onto his knees and took hold of the sling with both hands.

  Dylancia woke up and began crying, which totally took the grubby warrior by surprise. As it turned out, Chen’s daughter’s voice was the last thing he ever heard. Genevieve put the tip of the sword between the bottom of the scruffy warrior’s throat and the very top of his breastbone. Then, gripping the hilt of the sword with both hands, she shoved the blade into the man’s chest cavity with all her might. Half of the weapon disappeared from view.

  With a surprised expression on his face and a questioning look in his eyes, he tried to mouth some words, but no sound came out, just a steady stream of blood that spilled down onto his chest.

  “I don’t appreciate your waking the baby,” Genevieve said as she pulled out the sword.

  Then, to Genevieve’s dismay, Dylancia began screaming. So, Genevieve put down the sword, lifted the baby out of the sling, and rocked Dylancia back and forth while thinking, I wonder if anyone heard all this commotion? I hope nobody’s out in the hallway.

  Genevieve tried putting Dylancia back in the sling, but when she did, the baby began screaming all over again. Genevieve held the little girl to her breast, wrapping both arms around her, and thought, I need more than two hands.

  What mother doesn’t? If while a woman was producing milk, she also grew another set of arms, caring for a baby would be much easier. Another set of eyes would prove helpful as well. But these options weren’t available to the wo
man entrusted with Chen’s daughter’s care, so Genevieve began a juggling act.

  Genevieve put Dylancia’s head on her shoulder, while holding the baby firmly with her left hand. Leaning down carefully, she picked up the sword with her right. After making her way over to the door, she looked at the handle and wondered which hand she could use to turn it.

  Genevieve leaned the sword against the wall, opened the door a crack and looked outside. No one was there. Feeling a sense of relief, she thought, That’s great, but where do I go from here?

  Upon leaving the room, she picked the sword back up and made her way quietly down the hallway. At the far end of the corridor, she found a staircase and began her descent. After going down several levels, she paused and thought, If I go any farther, we’ll end up in the castle’s great room. And it better be empty as well, or our freedom will be very short lived.

  After nearing the bottom of the stairwell, she saw a fire in the fireplace, but it had burned down and was little more than hot coals with some flickering flames. Glancing warily at the far corners of the room, she made her way gingerly towards the main entrance. The hallway and stairwell had been lit by torches, but with the fire almost out, the room was cloaked in semidarkness, and it took a minute for her eyes to adjust.

  When her eyes had adapted to the dim light, she was anything but happy with what she saw. There, at a table on the other side of the room, sat a half-dozen of Lord Ridgewood’s sleazy warriors.

  “We were just talking about you,” one warrior called out. “Come over here and have a seat. We have a business proposition we’d like you to consider.”

  Genevieve froze and remained silent.

  “There, there, you’ve no cause to be alarmed. We’re all friends here. All we ask is that you keep an open mind and hear us out,” a toothless, wizened old warrior said. Genevieve took a step back as he came closer. He had a penetrating gaze and an all too casual attitude, as if he felt he was already a friend.