The Venom of Luxur
Page 25
Is this how we are all to live our days, puppets of a false god?
He stood before his sister, the knife in one hand, the Sword of Wisdom in the other.
Paniwi looked at him, her eyes pleading. “Anok, do not do this! This is not what our father died for!”
He raised the knife, held it poised over her heart.
His arm tensed.
His hand trembled.
TEFERI STOOD AT the back of the temple, as yet unseen, his bow drawn back, his arrow aimed at Anok’s heart.
His body shook with tension. What was he to do? Was his brother already dead? Would this be a mercy?
The bowstring slipped from his fingers.
ANOK STRUGGLED WITH all his will, all his soul, and knew it would not be enough.
Then the arrow struck.
It glanced off the blade of the knife, sending it flying from his stinging hand, flying away to clatter in the darkness far down the pyramid.
He growled (it growled) and unleashed a mighty death spell at his new attacker.
A bolt of light shot from his hand, and swept over Teferi, who leaned back as though hit by a sudden gust of wind. Then the giant Kushite planted his feet and drew back another arrow.
“The sacrifice,” called Parath. “I will deal with him! Complete the sacrifice!”
The great serpent suddenly lunged at Teferi, who turned and loosed his arrow.
There was a clank, as the metal tip bounced off Parath’s metal scales.
Anok lifted the Sword of Wisdom to complete the sacrifice.
But as he raised the blade into his field of vision, the eye on the handle suddenly sprung open.
“Anok Wati!” Sabé’s voice suddenly spoke in his head. “Who are you? Whom do you serve?”
He stopped, remembering Dao-Shuang’s words—
To serve all gods, you must serve none!
His body shuddered as though waking from a dream.
He looked up and saw Fallon standing behind his sister, her sword at the ready. He looked into her eyes.
She swung her sword a mighty blow, and Paniwi’s chains parted.
He turned to Parath. The brass serpent stood over his friend, who was desperately trying to hold it at bay with his sword.
He found his voice. “Parath! Hear me! I am—not Kamenwati!”
At first he struggled with each word, but with each word, he felt stronger. “I am born Sekhemar, and I have given myself the name Anok Wati!
“I am a heretic. I renounce the false god Parath. I renounce all gods! I renounce all sorcery, save this blade in my hand!”
The sword seemed to move itself, pointing toward the brass serpent.
Anok lowered his head like an angry bull, looking up at Parath through narrowed eyes. “Yield to me, demon, or be sent back to the pits from which you came!”
“Fool!” The great snake turned on him. “I will kill you myself!”
Anok drew his other sword. The plain, undecorated metal felt right in his hand. On the Sword of Wisdom, the eye closed, but still it felt guided by some invisible hand.
“Teferi,” he yelled, “Fallon, free the prisoners!”
He ran toward the serpent, swords at the ready.
The great head shot down at him.
He rolled to one side, flames from the serpent’s mouth singeing his arm.
He came to his feet running, trying to get behind the serpent, keeping it turning so it would be more difficult for it to strike.
Parath came after him, one of its coils crushing a still-prostrate priest of Set, who did not even scream as he died.
There was a shifting of heavy stone, and one of the pillars that had until moments before held a prisoner, toppled and smashed the serpent’s tail. As it fell, Teferi could be seen behind it, his rippling muscles speeding its fall.
A scream of flame poured from Parath’s mouth, and it turned on its new attacker.
Then something—someone—flew through the air past Anok.
Dao-Shuang of the Jade Spiders landed at the side of the beast, both fists glowing orange, like hot coals. He slammed them down like hammers against Parath’s body.
Sparks flew, and a dent appeared in the metal.
Parath’s body twitched toward the Khitan master, sending him flying to one side. He rolled to safety, coming to his feet.
“If you have magics,” Dao-Shuang yelled to the other freed prisoners, “it would be best you used them now!”
Several of the others stepped forward: a priest of Yogah, priestesses of Ishtar, a savage-looking acolyte of Ajuju the Dark One, and more.
Teferi and Fallon fell on Parath with their swords, hacking away as a woodsman would at a tree, leaving creases in its metal back. They struck from all sides, like ants on a caterpillar, torturing it with their stings.
Parath whipped its head from side to side, unsure where to strike first.
As the head whipped past, Anok thrust his plain sword into the roof of its mouth, shoving his arm past the flames, so that the hilt of it caught in its lower jaw.
He fell back as Parath reared, its jaw propped open.
Anok ran past the huge head, returning the Sword of Wisdom to its scabbard on his back. Reversing direction, he leapt into the air, wrapping his arms and legs around Parath’s neck.
The metal was hot beneath his limbs, and burned where bare skin touched it. He ignored the pain, shinnying up the snake’s neck, struggling to maintain his position.
At last he climbed over the top of Parath’s head as it swung from side to side, trying desperately to throw him off.
He reached down, grabbing hold of the Scales of Set, then let the serpent shake him off.
He landed painfully on the hard floor, rolled, and slid to a stop against one of the pillars at the edge of the temple roof.
He scrambled to his knees, only to see Parath slithering after him.
He smiled grimly, clutching the Scales tighter in his hand.
He did not run from the great serpent. He ran at it.
It lunged at him.
He twisted his body, dived past. As he did, he threw the Scales, as hard as he could, into the flames of Parath’s open mouth.
It screamed.
The head flailed from side to side, until Anok’s sword popped free.
Still Parath screamed, whipping its head up and down. Bursts of flame shot from its mouth, until at last the Scales of Set flew out and landed on the stone floor, the metal melting into a puddle on the stone, its golden color turning to black.
Below them, from a thousand throats, came a mournful cry of anguish. The surviving priests jerked into motion, sobbing or crawling for safety.
The followers of Set were free!
Parath cried with them.
Cried at them.
“No! No! I am Parath! I am god above all other gods! Follow me! Worship me! Fear me!
“Love me!”
Anok again drew the Sword of Wisdom, felt it guiding his hand. He charged straight at Parath, launching himself through the air.
Parath turned, and the tiniest gap opened in the plates of its neck!
The sword struck hard, driven home by the full weight of Anok’s body, stabbing deep into Parath’s body. Flame shot out around the edge of the wound, but he held on as the great snake flailed.
The blade struck bone, the solid column of Parath’s spine. It jerked to one side, and Anok’s body shifted.
The blade scraped, as Parath’s backbone snapped and parted at the joint.
Anok was thrown clear, the Sword of Wisdom still clutched in his hand. He landed on one knee and looked up in time to see Parath reel backward, then fall over the altar, down the front of the pyramid.
He ran forward to see. It tumbled, loose and lifeless, down the steps, leaking flame and smoke as it smashed down the stairs. Faster and faster it bounced, until at last it landed at the bottom with a crash, and shattered.
Plates of metal flew in all directions, mixed with bits of bone, accompanied by a clo
ud of rapidly dying flame.
When at last the smoke cleared, there was nothing of the false god but broken and scorched pieces. The life had even been extinguished from the metal of his body, which lay still upon the pyramid’s forecourt below.
Parath was dead.
Anok picked up his second sword, nicked and scorched, still warm from Parath’s flames, and shoved it home in its scabbard. He glanced at the Sword of Wisdom, then placed it upon his back as well.
Teferi stepped up to him, clasped his arm, and smiled. “Brother, are we done here?”
Fallon ran to him, throwing herself on him with such force that he nearly fell over, smothering him with her kisses.
“Good lady,” he said. “Lend me your heart.”
She beamed at him. “I already have,” she answered.
FOUR CAMELS RODE swiftly across the trackless desert of Stygia, losing themselves in the vast wilderness.
“I do not recall,” said Anok, “inviting you along.”
Paniwi looked at him with a curious half smile. “You did not, but I came anyway.”
“It seems as though every worshiper of Set in all of Stygia is still in a daze and will be for some time to come. You could have easily stolen a boat, as the other prisoners did. You could be across the Styx and on your way home to Nemedia by now.”
She shrugged. “With the Scales destroyed, my sworn duty to Ibis is done. Now I must find a new task in his name.
“The Great Temple of Ibis here in Stygia is gone. It will take us years to establish another, but it must be done, if Stygia is ever to be free of the curse of Set.”
“Gods,” said Anok, sourly. “One is as bad as the other.”
Paniwi pointedly ignored his words. “Until then, I would come to know my lost brother. Perhaps you need me to look after you.”
He frowned. “You could have been more helpful against Parath.”
“Not all gods grant their followers spells of power. I used my counterspells to keep you from cooking your arm when you thrust the sword into its mouth.”
He flexed his arm, the skin pink and peeling. “It still hurts,” he said.
“It is still attached,” she said dryly.
Fallon looked at the arm with concern. “It isn’t healing,” she said.
“Nor will it,” said Anok, “except in its time. I meant my words. I have sworn off spells. I have sworn off this cursed mark. Let me hurt as other men hurt. Let me fight as other men fight.”
Paniwi looked at him skeptically. “It is not so easy to swear off the temptation of dark magic. Mark my words, Anok, you cannot do it alone. You must pledge yourself to some god. If not Ibis, then some other.”
“Gods!” He shook his head. “No good comes when they meddle in the affairs of men.”
“But sometimes,” said Fallon, “good comes when men meddle in the affairs of gods.”
He looked again at Paniwi, his eyebrows raised. “You think I must have a god?”
She nodded.
He turned back to Fallon. “Tell me,” he said, “about Crom.”