He was entranced by the elegance of her form as she moved sinuously in her golden bodice and white lace skirt. The angles of her hips suggested an abundance of children to him and ecstatic pleasure in their making. He noticed only fleetingly that the clothes she wore were the finest he had ever seen beside his golden robe.
She turned toward him and flashed a coquettish smile as she began to undo her bodice.
He was speechless as she undressed and then stood before him, unclothed and pristine. If her clothed body had suggested perfection, its nakedness revealed it in its fullness.
“I must be a God to witness such beauty,” he thought. His first instinct was to approach her and lay greedy hands on her, but the expression on her face gave him pause. She was assessing his reaction.
“Good,” she said. “No man before you has passed that test. But son of a God or not, you are still a man. I can see that. Now that I have your attention, I must reveal something to you and then you must make a decision.”
Julius strained to keep his lust in check as he listened. Bestial thoughts ran through his head. “I could take her now and none would be able to hold me accountable. I can make her mine.” He realized that she was still talking and he struggled to focus.
“…first thing. I have been with other men. You will not be my first. If this is an affront to you, then you must find another. I am not a young maiden on the doorstep of womanhood—you must understand that the years I’ve spent waiting for one worthy of me have been long and lonely. Second, if I am to love you, then know that my mind is just as sharp as my father’s. In order to be loved by me, you must love my mind as well as my body.
You must now make a decision. I can see the lust in your eyes. If you choose to give in to your lust now, then you may take me as your wife, but I will never respect you. I will know that you married for lust—like an animal—and not for love. You will have my body, but not my mind or spirit. On the other hand, if you leave this room without touching me, then I will love you for as long as you are worthy of my love.”
She stood there watching him with a hopeful look in her eyes. But the angles and curves of her body were calling to him.
“You are a God! Do not regard the mutterings of this woman. Take her as your Father would!” cried the voice of his lust, which seemed to gain strength as he looked over her breasts and the bewildering grace of her lower half.
“She’s unworthy of you!” cried the voice of his pride. “Take her now and then find another who is innocent and pure!”
He took a step toward her, and he saw the hope in her eyes turn to fear. The memory of his Father’s crown returned to him in a flash.
“NO!” he shrieked, raising his hands to his eyes and stumbling from the chamber into the hall beyond.
He knelt on the cold stone and his hands trembled. Leaving that room had been the second most difficult thing he had done in his life—paling only in comparison to removing his father’s foul crown.
In a few moments, he felt warm hands on his shoulders, and he stood up with the help of Ornella, who regarded him after having dressed herself hastily but effectively.
“What happened in there?” she said.
“You tempted me. It reminded me of something…terrible.”
“I’m sorry,” she said.
“It’s…It’s OK. I see the wisdom in it.”
She touched his cheek. “Yes, I think you do. You pass the test, Son of a God. I will be your wife—in every sense of the word.”
She kissed him tenderly, and the oasis of joy he felt was made sweeter by the desert of turmoil that he had passed through to reach it.
The afternoon shadows grew long as Julius walked cautiously through the eastern half of the City. The stone buildings that surrounded him were in disrepair: their white paint had faded and worn clean away in many parts, and all that remained of wooden doors and shutters were shards of wood and hinges. The Imperial spell he had cast to allow him to move freely had been difficult. The Wand had helped him, but while using it he had felt a fraction of the disgust he had felt when the Imperial crown had rested on his head.
The hour that would mark the commencement of the attack was imminent, and Julius increased his pace a bit to ensure that he would be in position on time. Even though his strike would be the signal to attack, he did not want to delay for fear that an unexpectedly prolonged fight might spill over into the hours of darkness, which would strengthen the Light Dancers.
The shadowy doorways of the buildings he passed seemed pregnant with threat, and he tried to move as silently as possible. The wind shifted and the stench of the buildings wafted into the street, nearly causing him to retch—but he was able to cough softly and continued his brisk walk toward the southernmost obelisk.
He thought he saw motion inside one of the buildings as he neared the corner beyond which the final obelisk awaited. He stopped in the middle of the street, thinking that the best way to avoid detection, since moving closer to either side of the street would bring him closer to the buildings. The Light Dancers were thought to have poor eyesight, and Julius hoped that this was true. He heard the shuffling of feet across sand and then a guttural grunt—then silence.
His breathing seemed thunderous as he waited quietly for several minutes.
Hoping that the threat of detection had passed, he started to walk slowly again.
He wasn’t scared of the scores of enemies that surrounded him, but he was nervous about his plan—and the impact early detection would have on his plan. He briefly thought about the hundreds of warriors preparing to invade the northeastern part of the City. He feared for them, and he knew that many of them would perish during the battle.
He reached the corner and turned in the middle of the crossroad. The obelisk he sought stood a block to the south, at a distance of about fifty yards. It was jet black and surprisingly slender at its base, rising to greater thickness at its height. Its shape was similar to the Tower of Law that he had seen depicted in miniature in the mountains. He could feel the magical emanation from the obelisk, and the Wand felt warm in his grasp.
He briefly looked inward to verify that his chaos magic still felt strong, and then focused his attention on the apex of the obelisk. He raised his right arm and forks of lightning leapt toward the obelisk, impacting the dark stone with a crack. The earth shook as a concussive force shattered the silence of the afternoon.
Julius was thrown to the ground and a column on a building crumbled and fell at some distance down the street. He wasn’t stunned, and as he rose to his feet, he saw the obelisk had shattered and a strange, luminescent substance like molten rock was pouring from its top. The fiery rock looked similar to the glowing rock inside the Wand that he held.
Julius ignored the howls of surprise that erupted from all around him as he watched the lava pour down the side of the obelisk. As it passed over the black stone, the molten rock took on the former’s appearance. The obelisk looked something like a black candle burning at an abnormally fast rate, the viscous material streaming downward until it met the ground. When it reached the dirt, its color and texture changed again, and it took on a sandy appearance until it seeped into the earth and was gone, leaving no trace of its passage on the obelisk or the ground below.
“Amazing! What could a man do if he could control such a substance?” he thought excitedly.
Pale, emaciated figures appeared in the doorways around him, howling raucously. Their hands were hideously deformed and bore irregular, long claws that were sharpened and vicious. The brown-stained teeth in their mouths were sharp like fangs. It seemed that his Imperial spell was working, because, as he scanned their gaunt faces and milk-white eyes, he didn’t think they noticed him.
There was a break in the chorus of howls, and the sound of distant battle reverberated from the north. The Light Dancers started to shout something then, and their numbers swelled as the creatures that were still in the shadows pressed those in front of them out of
the buildings. When they emerged into the afternoon sun, they covered their eyes and their skin smoked. Those so affected shrieked and jumped for the cover of shadow, often jumping through windows or even climbing to upper floors to avoid the teeming throngs that undulated around the doorways, anxious to escape, but mindful of the light.
Julius heard footsteps approaching him from behind. Turning, he saw a Light Dancer dressed in a tattered robe and a wide brimmed hat. He was taller than the rest, and he used the clothing to shield himself from the light. His eyes bore the same white mark of blindness as his comrades, but he was sniffing loudly and coming straight for Julius.
Julius took six steps toward one side of the street as the Light Dancer approached. The creature appeared to be focused on the obelisk, and it walked until it reached the point he had been standing moments before.
Then two things happened simultaneously. The Light Dancers in the buildings cried with a primal delight and burst into the street from every direction, running toward the north at great speed. The robed creature near Julius jumped at him unexpectedly and knocked him to the ground as it tried to lacerate his throat with its claws and bite.
Julius tried to use the shaft of the Wand to parry the creature’s raking swings, but he feared that it might break under the strain. The robed creature managed to score a hit on his abdomen, but Julius’ golden robe deflected the blow without effect. Julius concentrated on defense and avoiding being trampled as the Light Dancers surged around the two wrestling figures. The wiry Light Dancer shaman was stronger than it looked and just as tenacious as its appearance suggested.
Suddenly the shaman took a kick in the ribs from one of its kind as they ran by carelessly. This gave Julius the opportunity to break free. He rolled away, dodged several running creatures, and then rose to his feet. He stowed the Wand in his backpack and drew his sword.
“I need to get to that next obelisk! This is taking too long!” Julius thought.
As if in answer to his concerns, the robed figure charged him and leapt a full six feet into the air at the last second, hoping to jump over his sword strike. But Julius was too swift for him: he took a step forward and ducked, then turned and stabbed upwards, catching his opponent in the back with a cruel thrust.
The Light Dancer shaman landed hard, and fell to the ground. Julius stood and kicked it in the shoulder as it tried to rise, and it fell to the earth and lay on its back, breathing unsteadily. He looked at the creature with wonder. It had tried to surprise him and he now knew it was cunning as well as intelligent. He noticed that it wore a golden pendant around its neck. The creature muttered pathetically as Julius used his sword to lift the pendant off its chest to get a closer look.
He realized too late that the mutterings were the shaman casting a spell! The ley lines under his feet crackled to life and the white eyes of the shaman glowed vigorously.
Julius cursed as he drove his sword deep into the shaman’s chest. He turned his blade until the eyes were dark again and the breathing ceased.
He ignored the pendant and ran north toward the next obelisk, avoiding the ley lines and their distasteful magic, which made the Wand in his hand feel charged with energy and more loathsome to his sensibilities.
But as he ran, he encountered groups of Light Dancers that perceived him and attacked. He killed them quickly, and took the time and energy to re-cast his Imperial masking spell. But it didn’t work—the Light Dancers still came at him.
Next, he heard a distant explosion, and knew that Hamiltus had destroyed an obelisk. But Julius was forced into a slow melee with hundreds of Light Dancers, and minutes turned into tens of minutes, and then an hour, before the next obelisk came into sight. Finally, he was able to destroy it with his lightning, and the Light Dancers that remained in his vicinity made for the north.
After dispatching another shaman, Julius grabbed the now familiar pendant that hung about its neck, and donned it himself. This seemed to shield him from detection again, and he reached the next obelisk quickly.
After destroying it, he made for the next one, but was discouraged by the sounds of explosions and thunderclaps coming from the north.
“Hamiltus is desperate and uses his most powerful spells!” he cried aloud.
The number of Light Dancers increased as he reached the northern neighborhoods. Finally he reached the lines where the warriors were making a final stand. Only a few dozen remained.
Julius fought with vigor, and killed several score of the creatures until there was a pause in the action.
“Where is Hamiltus?” cried Julius, as he searched the faces of the survivors.
“He fell not long ago,” was the reply.
Julius cursed loudly and his thoughts went to his new wife.
But a fresh wave of Light Dancers charged down the street at that moment, returning his attention to the battle.
He covered the retreat of the remaining warriors, and then vowed to personally kill every remaining Light Dancer. He killed several hundred more of the creatures, but they defended themselves when he got close to them, and eventually he began to tire. As he felt his strength waning, he destroyed the remaining obelisks. His final thought was that too many Light Dancers had escaped from the City—and that he might never succeed in honoring his vow.
His warriors found him lying near the final obelisk he had destroyed. They feared him dead, but he had passed out from exhaustion. His next memory was a warm bed in the keep and beautiful Ornella at his side, bravely tending to him despite the loss of her father.
Julius shifted his weight to his other side, and discarded the fine linen bed sheets that had covered his legs. A sleek figure stirred in bed beside him and rolled over to face him. Julius took pleasure in regarding Ornella. The sleep of the prior moments that still reflected on her face did not dim her dark beauty.
"What troubles you, love?" Ornella asked in a soft voice.
"You are kind to ask of my troubles on the anniversary of your father’s death."
"You know that I have accepted his death. I still feel a great sadness—but it was an honorable death.”
Julius leaned down and kissed her forehead. “You are my treasure,” he said.
She grabbed his arm tenderly. “And you are mine,” she replied.
Julius was content to let those words resonate in the ensuing silence. They were infused with a familiar certainty that comforted him, and distracted him from thinking about his frustration over the governance of the City
“You still didn’t answer my question,” she said teasingly.
Julius rose and strode out onto the balcony of the bedroom. He looked down over the City from many stories above, and took comforted from the host of flickering lanterns that still burned at this late hour.
But all was not well in the City. Other wizards had blossomed in the new economic system, which allowed them to procure their spell materials with ease, and even share knowledge with one another through various wizard guilds. Voices of opposition now seemed to flourish, where once Julius’ voice had been singularly influential.
An irregularity in the ordered rows of white-washed buildings visible across the lake caught his attention, and his eye strayed to a lone ruin that marred the otherwise well-kept appearance of the eastern district.
The She-Devil had struck again.
He turned back to Ornella. “We have done so much, yet these petty wizards now argue with me incessantly, and that damned Devil still terrorizes us.”
Ornella nodded sadly. “I figured these would be the thoughts that trouble you. Think about your successes, and let your confidence stem from those thoughts.”
“I’d like to. But I am struck by something. In my desert, we were nomadic. Our system of Emirs and Senechals worked well, but we were never as numerous as we are now in the City. And we never had so much wealth and power. In the desert, dissension with the Emir would threaten the survival of the tribe, and was not tolerated. Here…things are different. Peopl
e are idle, and their minds run wild with discontent. What am I to do?”
“Most of the people are happy. You are too focused on a few strident voices among the many.”
Julius strolled back into the room. “The sad part is these people don’t even understand my vision. They think that we’ve achieved it, when in reality we’ve barely scratched the surface. We’ve scarcely organized our City, yet no one thinks about the thousands of worlds that lie in the heavens! Think of the empire we will build!”
“Even your father did not achieve that, Julius. Is such an Empire possible in our lifetimes?”
“Yes, Ornella. With this Oberon substance I found in the new western land, I believe it is. But I must have peace and quiet, and time to research. I must disengage from these distractions.”
Ornella was silent for several moments. He turned to her and could see that his words had shaken her.
“I will have to silence the dissidents. I will disband their guilds and give them a choice—join my wizard guild and work with me, or leave the City!”
Ornella frowned. “Do you think that’s wise? There may be strong opposition. Even violence.”
“Perhaps—and the prospect does trouble me. But it can’t be avoided.”
Ornella was again silent, and Julius could see skepticism on her face. This annoyed him, which led his mind to another grave matter.
“And I must deal with this She-Devil!”
“Julius, no! Remember my father’s campaign against her. She is a force of nature, and not to be meddled with by mortal men.”
“Am I not the Son of a God?”
“Even your father died eventually. And you almost perished when you fought the Light Dancers. There are limits—even to your power.”
“You must tell me her legend again. There must be something I’m missing.”
Ornella sighed. “Again, my love? I tire of the tale.”
“Please, Ornella.”
“Fine. Legend has it that the City is supported above the Maker’s Fire by seven pillars. These seven pillars of rock are constantly consumed by the Maker’s Fire, and therefore the Red Robed Man created seven earth spirits to continually re- fashion them. As the fire unmakes the pillars from the bottom, the earth spirits remake them from the top.”
Hemlock And The Dead God's Legacy (Book 2) Page 22
