Army of the Dead

by Richard S. Tuttle

  “Use your blue cylinder inside,” advised the Torak.

  Lyra nodded and Marak threw open the door and burst into the room. Lyra followed closely on his heels and immediately summoned her spell of protection. The blue cylinder blazed to life as Lyra moved into the room. At the far end of the room, Emperor Vand sat calmly on his throne.

  “I was expecting three of you,” Vand said as if he had offered invitations for a social gathering. “Approach.”

  Marak’s brow creased in confusion, and he shot a glance at the Star of Sakova. His eyes scanned the room looking for traps or concealed assistants, but the room was fairly empty. There was a table at the foot of the stairs leading up to the throne, and three chairs sat before it. In the far corner of the large room was a little girl holding a silver tray with four silver cups upon it.

  “Come,” urged Vand. “Come and sit down, and let us discuss our differences over a cup of tea.”

  Lyra and Marak exchanged puzzled glances. It was not the type of reception that they had planned on. At that moment, the side door opened near the little girl, and Rejji walked into the room holding his staff.

  “Ah,” smiled Vand, “the Astor has come after all. Your companions were just about to sit down and have some tea. Why don’t you join them?”

  “What game are you playing?” Marak asked brusquely. “We have not come to socialize with you, and I am certain that you realize that.”

  “Have it your way then,” grinned the Motangan Emperor as he waved his hand slightly.

  There was neither a clap of thunder nor a flash of light as the result of Vand’s spell casting. It took a moment for Marak to understand what the spell had accomplished. Where the three doors to the throne had existed, there was nothing but solid walls. There was no way in or out of the throne room.

  “There is still time for tea before we start this unfortunate business,” smiled Vand as he indicated to the little girl to serve the refreshments.

  As the little girl passed in front of Rejji, his staff grew hot to the touch. His brow knitted with confusion, and he shook his head in puzzlement. He stared at the little girl for a moment and then moved swiftly in reaction to the warning given by the staff. The Astor swung his staff hard at the little girl’s head. As Lyra gasped in surprise, the little girl’s body hit the floor hard and slid along it. Vand started laughing, and the little girl bellowed in rage, her voice low and thundering. Before the eyes of the Three, the little girl’s body instantly transformed in a giant demon.

  “Zarapeto!” exclaimed Marak as he drew the Sword of Torak and moved cautiously towards the demon.

  “I see you have come to know my pets,” grinned Vand. “There will be no dragon to help you this time, Torak. Come, demonstrate your skills for me. I am eager to watch you fight.”

  Rejji approached the demon from behind, and Zarapeto turned quickly to snare the Astor.

  “Not the Fakaran,” admonished Vand. “I have need of him, and he is no threat to me. Kill the Torak.”

  Zarapeto snarled and spat in the Emperor’s direction. The acidic spittle landed on the table and began to smoke as it ate through the wood.

  “He seems to have little respect for you,” Marak taunted Vand. “I guess that is a feeling that everyone in this rooms shares.”

  “Then everyone in this room will have to be eliminated,” Vand growled loudly.

  Zarapeto shot a glance of disgust in Vand’s direction, and Marak saw his opening. The Torak dove towards the demon, rolling in a ball and coming to his feet directly in front of the large creature. The move was sudden, and the demon stepped back in surprise, but not before the Sword of Torak sliced into his leg.

  Rejji raced forward and swung his staff hard behind the demon’s knees. The demon’s legs buckled as the creature tried to turn around and grab Rejji. Marak leaped up onto the demon’s bent thigh and shoved his sword upward. The sword punctured the demon’s throat, and Zarapeto’s scream was a loud gurgle. As the demon straightened his legs and reached for his throat, Marak was thrown to the floor, the Sword of Torak slipping from his grasp and skittering away.

  Zarapeto kicked out with his foot towards Marak, and the Torak rolled swiftly away from the sharp claws. Lyra moved quickly to put herself between the demon and Marak, figuring that her blue cylinder would maim Zarapeto. The demon stopped long enough to turn and bash Rejji with the back of his hand. The Astor flew through the air, fell to the floor, and slid along the tile until he collided with a wall. Marak scrambled for his sword while the Star of Sakova stood blocking the demon’s path.

  Zarapeto snarled in pain as he slowly approached Lyra, black blood flowing from the wound in his neck. He stretched his clawed hand out before him and reached for Lyra’s head as if he were prepared to crush a grape. Lyra trembled, but she stood her ground to give Marak time to rearm himself. When Zarapeto’s hand reached through the protective blue cylinder, Lyra screamed and shuffled backwards. Vand laughed loudly.

  “Zarapeto exists in another plane,” chuckled Vand. “Your puny spell of protection has no effect on him.”

  As the demon closed in on the Star of Sakova, Marak snatched the Sword of Torak and raced towards the demon.

  “Drop the spell,” Marak shouted to Lyra, “and move away.”

  The blue cylinder winked out immediately as Lyra turned and raced towards the wall. Zarapeto was struck with a moment of indecision as he wondered whether to pursue the Star of Sakova or the charging Torak. Lyra was closer, and the demon made up his mind. He turned and stretched out his arm to snare Lyra. Marak launched himself into a dive, his sword stretched out before him. The Sword of Torak struck the demon’s wrist and imbedded deeply. Zarapeto wailed and pulled his arm in close to his body, causing the Torak to lose his grip on the sword and tumble to the floor weaponless.

  The demon howled as he shook his arm to rid it of the imbedded sword. Rejji picked himself up off the floor and shook his head to clear his vision. Stars danced before his eyes, but he could see well enough to know that Lyra and Marak needed his help. He grabbed his staff and raced up behind the demon. He ran swiftly and shoved the end of the staff into the back of Zarapeto’s knee. The demon tottered for a moment, and Rejji struck the other leg. Zarapeto fell to his knees, still shaking his arm and staring at the Sword of Torak as if wanting it gone, but afraid to touch it with his free hand.

  Lyra saw a chance to strike and took it. She pulled out her rapier and ran towards the demon’s face. Before Zarapeto could register the threat, Lyra shoved the rapier into the demon’s right eye. Zarapeto’s head reared back in anguish as Marak rose and grabbed the hilt of the Sword of Torak. He pulled the sword free and swung it at the wounded hand. As the creature’s hand fell to the floor, the demon thrashed in agony. One flailing arm caught Lyra in the chest and sent her sprawling. The handless arm swung towards Marak, but he ducked under it and shoved the Sword of Torak into the demon’s side. Rejji struck repeatedly at the back of the demon with his staff, but Zarapeto appeared not to notice, the pain in his side overwhelming everything else.

  “Switch,” shouted Marak as he pulled on the Sword of Torak and rolled free of the demon.

  Rejji nodded and moved around to Zarapeto’s side. He shoved the tip of the staff deep into the wound and moved it around. The demon’s wounded arm flailed around, but it could not reach the Astor. While Rejji was infuriating the demon, Marak moved behind the creature and swung hard at its exposed legs. The Sword of Torak sliced deep into the demon’s leg and black blood flowed freely onto the floor. The Torak moved quickly to the other leg and sliced it open. With an inhuman scream, Zarapeto threw his body forward and crashed to the floor. Marak immediately marched onto the demon’s back and shoved the Sword of Torak deep into the back of the demon’s head. The creature thrashed about for several seconds and then fell still.

  “Bravo,” congratulated Vand with mocking applause. “You have shown great skill in defeating a moronic creature. Now that you have had your fun, let the real contest beg
in.”

  Chapter 50

  Offer for the Astor

  The Astor, the Torak, and the Star of Sakova turned to stare at Emperor Vand as if he were mad. The ageless man still sat calmly on his throne where he had just watched the battle resulting in the death of his last demon. He acted as if he hadn’t a care in the world.

  Without warning, a fireball suddenly screamed towards Lyra, and Rejji shouted a warning, but it was unnecessary. Lyra instantly erected her blue cylinder, and the magical projectile was instantly absorbed. Another fireball headed towards Marak, but the Torak dove to the floor, and the projectile impacted on the body of the dead demon where it produced no damage. Vand laughed hysterically.

  “If you two are merely going to stay protected and wait for me to die,” cackled Vand, “you should be aware that I will never die. I am a god. I do not even require food or water. A waiting game is not in your best interests. No one will enter or leave this room until I allow it. Drop the shield, Star of Sakova. You cannot cast against me while you hide within it, and that demon will decompose soon. Enough, Torak, come show me the spells that your mother taught you.”

  Rejji froze. He knew that he could not reach the safety of the demon’s body before Vand struck him down, but strangely, the Motangan Emperor ignored him.

  “Come stand before me and receive my judgment,” Vand said to Lyra and Marak.

  “You are finished, Vand,” retorted Lyra. “The armies you sent to the Sakova and Khadora are defeated, as is the army sent to find Angragar. Your army of the dead is imprisoned, and your hellsouls are being decapitated as we speak. Your demons are dead, and Pakar and his mages are as well. It is you who should kneel and beg Kaltara for forgiveness.”

  “Beg Kaltara?” Vand balked. “What a ludicrous thought. The armies that I sent out were expendable, as were the demons. They are not what this battle is about. Those were just things to keep you occupied and to make sure that you arrived here for this confrontation. It is this meeting that will decide the future of this world, and nothing else matters. I have waited thousands of years for the Torak to be born, just so I could defeat him, and I will defeat him. There is nothing that Kaltara can do to interfere.”

  “I don’t believe you,” countered the Star of Sakova. “We have beat you on every other field of battle, and we will beat you here today.”

  Vand laughed wickedly. “You are a feisty one, Star of Sakova,” he chuckled. “I shall enjoy watching you suffer.”

  “You will have to kill me first,” declared Marak. “It is me that you are after. Grab a sword and let us fight this like men.”

  “You, Torak,” sneered Vand as he flicked his wrist towards Marak, “are nothing.”

  Marak was suddenly lifted off the floor and magically shoved backward until he struck the wall. He stuck to the wall, a pace above the floor, as if held by a huge invisible hand. Marak struggled, but he could not move.

  “It disturbs me that Kaltara made me wait thousands of years and then presented me such a feeble challenger,” Vand shook his head with disgust. “I could kill you right now, but your god must learn to respect my powers. First I will dispose of the Star of Sakova. You will be able to watch and wonder what your own death will feel like.”

  Marak gritted his teeth and tried to force himself away from the wall, but he could not move.

  “I well know the powers of each of you,” Vand continued, “and you are no match for me. That is what you get for following a fool of a god. Kaltara endowed you with powers that could have defeated me two thousand years ago, but I am not the same person I was then. I have grown with Dobuk’s help. Try me, Torak.”

  Vand flicked his wrist again, and Marak tumbled to the floor, the invisible hand no longer restraining him. The Torak did not hesitate. He nodded to Lyra and then charged towards Vand with the Sword of Torak held before him. Lyra dropped her spell that maintained the blue cylinder and brought her fists together, pointing at Vand. A tremendous surge of power shot from Lyra’s fists and headed for Vand while Marak jumped over the table and prepared to sever Vand’s head.

  Vand merely grinned at the dual attack. With a slight wave of his hand, a dozen demons suddenly appeared between Vand and the Torak. Lyra’s force bolt reached Vand and instantly disappeared. Her mouth hung open in awe when she saw that there was no outline of a shield shown by the dissipating spell.

  Marak faltered and halted his advance to battle the first of the demons. He acted as if he planned to run right past the demon, but at the last minute he pivoted and slashed out at the creature’s leg. The sword slashed clear through the image, and the Torak realized that he was attacking illusions. Lyra tossed a light blade at Vand and immediately summoned her blue cylinder. She watched as the light blade disappeared, again showing no trace of a shield around Vand. Vand cackled and slapped his hand on his thigh.

  “That was clever,” the disciple of Dobuk chuckled, “but rather ineffective, wouldn’t you say?”

  Vand flicked his wrist again and an invisible force once again shoved Marak backwards. His body struck the table as he flew across the room. With a bone-jarring thud, Marak and the table hit the wall. The legs of the table splintered from the impact as Marak was again held flat against the wall above the floor. A searing pain shot through his back, and he could feel the table between him and the wall. The three chairs smashed into Marak’s legs and splintered from the impact. The Torak howled in pain.

  Vand released the spell and Marak tumbled to the floor along with the wooden debris from the crushed chairs and table legs. The room suddenly roared and shook violently. As Lyra watched, a great fissure opened up in the floor between her and Vand. On one side of the fissure were Vand and Rejji. Across the chasm, Marak and Lyra stared in awe at Vand.

  “Feel free to throw your body into the crevice, Torak,” laughed Vand. “I guarantee it will be the easiest way out for you.”

  Marak groaned with pain, but he rose unsteadily and picked up a piece of a smashed table leg. He walked slowly towards the fissure and tossed the piece of wood into it. The mangled table leg dropped soundlessly into the blackness. Marak frowned as he had expected another illusion or at least to see the lower levels of the temple, but there was nothing but darkness within the crevice.

  All this time, Rejji stood motionless, trying to figure out why he was chosen to be in a battle with three powerful people. If Marak’s strength and agility could not best Vand, and Lyra’s magic had no effect, what could he possibly do? The absurdity of his being in the throne room at that moment hit the Astor hard. He looked over at Marak, who appeared to be in great pain, and then at Lyra standing erect within her blue cylinder. He knew that she could not cast out of the safety that the cylinder provided her, so her magic was useless. He shook his head in exasperation.

  “What am I supposed to do here?” he shouted to Marak.

  Vand laughed and turned his gaze on the Astor. “You are supposed to watch your friends die,” he responded. “When they are defeated, I will offer you power greater than anything you could possibly imagine. For now, all you have to do is stand and observe.”

  “I will never serve you,” Rejji blurted out, “nor will I stand idly by and watch Lyra and Marak be killed.”

  Vand’s face instantly turned dark as he glared at the Astor. His arms trembled with rage, and he pointed one lone finger at Rejji.

  “Move!” shouted Marak.

  Rejji dove to the floor and rolled into a ball as Marak had taught him. A large explosion rocked the room as stone tiles shattered, and bits of stone sprayed in every direction. Where Rejji had stood not a moment before, there was a large crater in the tile floor, and dust hanging in the air. Rejji stared at the crater and then locked eyes with Vand. The disciple of Dobuk appeared to be composing himself, and he purposely looked away from the Astor.

  Marak frowned at Vand’s actions. The Motangan Emperor appeared to have lost control for a moment, but more importantly, he showed that he did not intend to kill Rejji. The Torak turned
and slowly walked back towards Lyra until he stood alongside the Star of Sakova.

  “What is going on?” Lyra whispered to Marak.

  “I am not sure,” admitted the Torak, “but we have just seen a clue into how to defeat Vand. Now we must understand what it is that we saw.”

  Rejji exhaled slowly while Vand still pointedly avoided looking at him. The Astor walked cautiously across the floor and stood directly in front of Vand. He dropped to one knee and bowed his head slightly.

  “Forgive me, Emperor,” Rejji said loud enough for all to hear. “Perhaps I spoke with haste.”

  Vand turned his head and stared at the Astor. Slowly the hard, cruel features of his rage faded and he nodded slightly.

  “Excellent,” smiled Vand. “I have great things in store for you, but first you must lead me to Angragar. Let me dispose of these two, and we can be on our way.”

  “But what about the armies outside?” balked Rejji.

  “They are of no concern,” shrugged Dobuk’s disciple. “I can destroy them as easily as raising the dead of Vandegar.”

  Rejji smiled at the Emperor and nodded his head. “You will like Angragar,” he said with a grin. “The library there is fantastic. You can’t believe all of the things we read there, and how important they are.”

  “What are you talking about?” frowned Vand. “I used to live in Angragar. I know the city well. There is nothing there that I have not read.”

  “Perhaps it is my vanity that confuses you,” shrugged Rejji, “but I thought if I told you how wonderful Angragar is, you would not reject me.”

  “Stop mumbling nonsense,” Vand waved the Astor away. “Wait to one side while I dispose of the Torak and the Star of Sakova. Then we shall leave.”

  Rejji moved away from the throne while Marak leaned closer to Lyra.

  “That’s it!” he exclaimed softly.

  “What?” Lyra asked with a puzzled frown.

  “Remember the tomes we read about the early days of Vand in Angragar?” the Torak asked. “Vand steadily grew worse as if he had a mental illness. I remember remarking at the time that his vanity would be his undoing.”