Chainers Torment mgc-2

by Scott McGough

  "He's issuing a command, not a request. I am a military man, Mr. Skellum, and we military men know enough to keep some forces in reserve." From deep within the alley Reseda had occupied came a rumbling, trumpeting roar. Trooper Baankis side-stepped away from the entrance, and Major Teroh waited confidently for his reserve forces to appear. Skellum gave his hat another spin.

  Something huge was dragging itself down the alley. Chainer stole a glance at Skellum, who was starting to weave and list from side to side as his hat continued to whirl. Chainer nervously wound his chain around one hand, then the other. He hadn't had a real look at the mantis's associate, but he knew neither his weapons nor his skills would be enough to stop it. He was relying on Master Skellum to meet this new challenge.

  The monster lurched heavily out of the alley and cracked the stones beneath it. Its skin was hairy and warty green, and it had natural armored plates across its chest and shoulders. It dragged itself forward on tree-trunk-thick arms that were taller than a person. Its huge, round head sat directly on its boulder-sized torso, which tapered off at the waist down to two spindly legs that dragged uselessly behind it. Chainer thought it looked like a cross between a tadpole in mid-metamorphosis and a whale.

  "Oooh," Skellum said dreamily. "A grendelkin. I haven't seen one of those since I was a boy. Pity about its hind legs, though. Was it born stunted, or did someone cripple it?"

  The grendelkin opened its mouth and roared, displaying triple rows of gnarled molars.

  "Take a good look," Teroh said grimly. "You'll never see another." He waved a hand to catch the grendelkin's attention, and then pointed at Azza, Reseda, and Skellum. Reseda was still screeching, "kill, kill," over and over. Azza shook him once, roughly, and the forest dweller finally passed out.

  The sudden silence seemed to drive the grendelkin over the edge. It roared again and stomped angrily toward Azza. Teroh said something to Baankis that Chainer couldn't hear, and the two soldiers moved toward Chainer once more. Chainer started his chain whirling. He hoped to slam the weighted end into one of Teroh's softer parts and then cut Baankis's hamstring with his dagger before Teroh recovered.

  Even as he prepared to fight for his life, Chainer kept an eye on

  Skellum. He was the only one in the street to see his mentor reach up with both hands and decisively stop the brim of his hat with a gap directly in front of his face.

  Master Skellum's entire head was gone. In its place was a whirling vortex of black smoke and purple light. There was a muffled boom from deep inside the hat, and a solid nugget of smoke leaped out through the gap, trailing charnel gas and soot. The nugget expanded at soon as it was clear of Skellum's hat, exploding into a full-fledged creature straight out of a madman's nightmare.

  It was still smoking and burned from its journey. It was exactly as big as the grendelkin. In fact, it looked a great deal like the grendelkin, except its lower half narrowed into a muscular serpent's tail complete with rattle. Its eyes bulged out of its skull and looked independently in all directions. It had no armor plating, but it did have a long, barbed tongue that flashed out between its jagged teeth.

  "Did I mention I had seen one as a boy?" Skellum asked. His voice sounded exactly as it had when Skellum first arrived, except it seemed to be coming from inside Chainer's head. Skellum's silky tone was as calm and measured as a man lighting his pipe. "I may have gotten a few details wrong, and I've always been partial to rattler tails…"

  Skellum's nightmare grendelkin caught sight of its shrivel-waisted counterpart and screeched like a stooping eagle. The forest brute roared in reply. Both monsters simultaneously launched forward, coming together with a titanic crunch that partially flattened their torsos against one another. They tore at each other with their claws.

  "Azza?" Skellum said, and the big dog grunted in agreement. She tossed Reseda's unconscious body at the soldiers. Baankis yelped and stepped backward while Teroh dropped his guard and threw himself in front of the flying mantis, trying to minimize Reseda's impact on the hard stone.

  Chainer seized the opportunity and sent the weighted end of his chain screaming across Baankis's forehead. The deep slash began to bleed before Chainer could reel his weapon back in, and the hapless foot soldier fell to his knees, momentarily blinded.

  Skellum's vortex-head boomed again, and two more smoking comets leaped out. One transformed into a scaly humanoid horror with long, dragging arms that ended in harpoonlike spikes. The other, smaller one seemed to be composed entirely of wings and legs. The harpoon-handed thing began to stalk the tangled heap that was Teroh and Reseda, and the flying thing howled like a wolf and took off into the air. It shot down the street and, still howling, disappeared around the comer.

  Azza padded up to Chainer.

  "Get on," Skellum called. "My other new friend has gone ahead to clear your path. I'll be along directly."

  Chainer took one last look at the melee. The two grendelkin were locked in a brutal stalemate while sword and harpoon clashed, and Baankis groped along the ground for his weapon.

  Azza urged him out of his reverie with a scolding bark. Chainer slung himself onto her back and took firm hold of the extra skin around her neck and shoulders.

  "To the manor, please," he said, and Azza bounded off, fast as a small horse and ten times more dangerous. Chainer threw one last look over his shoulder as Azza followed the winged thing's path down the street. Major Teroh had managed to hack off one of the harpooner's arms at the elbow, but it was still pressing its attack. The officer had planted his feet, refusing to abandon the unconscious mantis. Chainer was mildly impressed, but such bravery could well cost Teroh his life. Baankis was trying to clear his eyes with water from his canteen. Skellum's grendelkin had its tail wrapped tightly around the space where its double's throat would have been if it had a neck. They rolled over and over, crunching paving stones and flattening storefronts in their wake.

  The last thing he saw before Azza turned the corner was Skellum whipping his cape around himself with a flourish, his face smiling and normal, as he backed calmly into the shadows he'd come from.

  Rescued by his mentor, safe on Azza's back, and en route to the First with his package intact, Chainer allowed himself a single, short burst of joyous laughter. Then he hunkered down to make sure he stayed on long enough to enjoy the ride.

  CHAPTER 3

  Skellum's howling, flying thing had done its job. There was no one on the streets to observe Azza and Chainer as they galloped toward the manor. He saw several frightened faces peeking out through windows or from behind cracked doors, but no one was foolish enough to risk interfering with Azza's progress.

  They raced past the initiates' dormitories, where Chainer lived after Skellum started training him. Beyond the dorms was the largest port on the continent, its docks wholly owed and operated by the Cabal. Between the docks and the dorms was the city's main arena, the bloody pits where Chainer had fought for and earned a place in the Cabal's hierarchy. Azza bounded though a sharp left turn, and there it was: the manor, where the First lived and lorded, where all the world came to bow and beg for the Cabal's favor. Chainer had only been inside once before for his initiation, but he remembered every detail. It was a huge structure, ten stories high and two city blocks wide. The thick stone walls had been carved and set by the finest dwarf masons and further reinforced with magic and metal. It would take the destruction of the entire city and a half-mile of the bedrock below to put a dent in the First's home. The gleaming silver cathedral dome at the top was polished to a high shine, so that it reflected whatever was in the sky above it like a great convex mirror. At the very end of Manor Way, where Azza and Chainer were, the dome and the toothed drawbridge gate combined with the huge observation towers in front of it all to give the viewer an impression of a huge, grinning, metallic skull with horns.

  Home at last, Chainer thought, but his good humor was already fading. Passersby this close to the manor were more used to screeching monsters than the people in Roup's neighborh
ood. Skellum's winged thing had only caused this foot traffic to clear a path rather than vanish behind locked doors. The sparse crowds gave Chainer and Azza plenty of space but eyed them suspiciously as they passed. Chainer touched his dagger and the satchel at his hip, mentally preparing himself for the next challenge he would face. Getting to the manor was only the first step. He would have to get inside and then convince layer upon layer of armed guards and petty bureaucrats that what he carried was for the First alone. Azza seemed to pick up on his concern, and she slowed to a trot. Chainer anxiously prodded her with his heels, but she stopped him with a menacing growl.

  "Sorry," he said. "I'm a little nervous. Will you help me get inside, or are you just taking me to the gate?"

  Azza craned her head around and regarded Chainer with one red smoldering eye. She coughed, unimpressed, and then sprang forward at full gallop once more. Chainer hung on, smiling slightly.

  The guard on the gate was a six-foot-tall woman with three yellow eyes and vivid purple hair cropped close to her head. She was burly and broad-shouldered, with long serrated fingernails painted to match her hair. Unlike most of the guards Chainer had met in his life, she seemed neither bored nor bullying.

  "Who goes?" she called. The top eye in the middle of her forehead squinted in the dusky gloom.

  "The Cabal is here," Chainer said.

  "And everywhere," the guard replied. All three eyes now squinted. "Azza, old girl, is that you?"

  Azza coughed again, then reared up, almost tossing Chainer off her back.

  The left eye winked at Azza while the other two oriented on Chainer. "And you must be Skellum's boy."

  "I am Chainer. I seek an audience with the First. I have urgent-"

  The guard held up her hands. "Easy, little brother." She grinned, and Chainer saw that her teeth were serrated, like her nails, and they too matched the color of her hair.

  "We've been expecting you." The guard stepped aside and waved the mounted pair in. "Proceed to the Great Hall. You will be met there and escorted to the First. Azza," she added, "don't let him wander off on his own."

  Azza growled, more annoyed than angry, and the guard laughed. As the great dog padded into the manor, the guard winked at Chainer with all three of her eyes in succession.

  Unlike the offices in the administration building, the interior of the manor was decidedly still and silent. The First used the manor primarily for advanced rituals and to receive important guests. All of the Cabal's actual work was conducted in the streets, in the homes and offices of syndicate executives, or in the arena. Apart from a handful of visible guards, there were very few people between the entranceway and the Great Hall. Chainer gazed around as Azza bore him on, taking in the ornate decoration, the trophy displays of wealth and prestige, and the simple, sheer power humming from the gemstone chandelier. Overwhelmed, Chainer lowered his eyes and focused on Azza's muscular neck. He was being admitted to the manor, escorted into the presence of the First, and, he reminded himself, he carried the finest treasure yet at his side.

  "Eyes up, little brother." Skellum waited for them near the fireplace at the center of the Great Hall. Before Chainer could hail his mentor, Azza sat down and tossed him off with a short shrug of her shoulders. She bounded up to Skellum.

  "Of course I'm fine," Skellum held his hand out, and Azza sniffed it. She quickly sniffed the air around him and then barked happily. "No problems, I take it?" Skellum nuzzled Azza behind the ears, but he raised his voice to address Chainer as well.

  "None, mentor-" Azza interrupted Chainer with a long, low, warning growl. When he quickly fell silent, she tossed her head under Skellum's hand and prodded him gently with her muzzle. She looked back at Chainer and barked once, angrily.

  "I'll get to that," Skellum said. Azza barked again, and in three great thundering leaps, she was face-to- face with Chainer.

  She let out another slow, deep growl. With his complete and utter attention, she stared into his eyes for a moment, coughed, and then kissed him sloppily once from chin to forehead. Chainer was only dimly aware of her bounding away, back out the front gate.

  "What was that all about?"

  Skellum had not moved, and he stared at Chainer meaningfully. "She likes you. She's not usually that affectionate." "Before that. The barking. The growl."

  "She's also mad at you for opening your mouth in front of that Order officer."

  "She what? But-"

  "As am I, little brother," Skellum said. "Or were you simply unaware of how carefully I had put things together in order to help you? Did you think it was easy to arrange for an interview with the First on short notice? So easy that you could taunt an enemy before he was defeated? Is it a simple matter to arrange safe passage through half the city while simultaneously mustering enough tooth and claw to back down an Order officer and his entourage? Did you think of these things when you opened your mouth? Did any of this cross your mind at any time, little brother?"

  "No, Master."

  Skellum's eyes sparkled when he smiled. He double checked to make sure Azza was gone. "Me, neither. That's how I'm able to perform such miracles, my boy. I don't know what's impossible."

  Chainer laughed in relief, but caught himself. "Master, I regret taunting the toy soldier before he was beaten. I will do better."

  "And better still," Skellum said, his silky voice gone cold again. "You killed that warty little bird."

  "Yes, Master."

  "You killed it."

  "Yes."

  "Killed it." Skellum's voice was fading, and Chainer waited a moment before clearing his throat.

  "Yes, Master. I killed it."

  Skellum shook his head. "Very bad. I'll have to explain why, but you'll have to explain first." He looked up brightly. "Ha, ha. You'll have to explain… first!" He shook his head, smiling.

  Chainer had seen Skellum fade out before, but it was usually much later in the evening, when his thoughts were not so ordered and his control began to slip. He gently took his master's hand and pulled him a step forward, spinning his hat so that a gap was by Skellum's ear.

  "Master Skellum," he said evenly, "we are meant to see the First now. You have to take me to him."

  "Don't touch my hat!" Skellum flinched. "Hm? Chainer! There you are." Skellum yanked his hand free and quickly reoriented his hat so he could see out of both eyes. "Right you are. We're to see the First. You've got the… er. What is it you've got again?"

  "A fabulous treasure."

  "And you've got this fabulous treasure with you?"

  "Right here."

  "Keep it handy. You remember the most important rule?"

  "No one may touch the First."

  "Very good. And tonight, young Chainer, there is something else. The First is very interested in what you have to show him. In what you have to say, but that just means he'll be even more difficult to impress. If you had passed him at a formal dinner and said, 'Hey, look at this fabulous treasure,' it would have been an easy sell. But we've asked for a special audience, a great inconvenience to a busy man like him. We must tread lightly.

  "Do not speak to the First unless he speaks to you. If he approaches you, stand perfectly still. Don't do anything that might annoy him, and for Kuberr's sake, don't flail around or duck away from him. The last man to do that was killed, reanimated, and propped up in the smoking lounge for five years, so guests could put their cigars out on his forehead. You may want to spend the next half-decade as a zombie ashtray, but I don't. For both our sakes, stand still and listen."

  "All right, Skellum, all right," Chainer sputtered.

  Skellum's eyes went cold again. " 'Master.' You call me 'Master.' What do you call me?"

  Chainer was taller than his mentor, but Skellum had a way of peering up from the gaps in his hat with his cold, angry eyes that was ten times more threatening than sheer size.

  "Master. I'm sorry, Master."

  "I'm serious, Chainer. One slip and we both go down. Currently, the First thinks very highly of me, and
I'd like to keep it that way."

  "I understand, Master Skellum."

  Skellum smiled and gave his hat a spin. He stopped it, unhooked it, and tucked it under his arm with a flourish.

  "Then let's go."

  *****

  They were admitted to the antechamber outside the First's study. They were not searched or magically bound from doing their host harm, as an outsider would have been. There were nonetheless a dozen armed humans and monsters standing ready in the First's private chambers.

  The room was dark, lit only by black candles atop tall silver poles. The First stood with his arms behind his back at the far end of the room, under a massive oil painting of himself in formal robes. Four human men and four human women in matching blouses moved constantly around him, translating his commands and his movements into a complicated dance. His attendants were the only ones allowed to approach him, and even they maintained a safe distance at all times to keep from brushing against him. Two of the eight had the outline of a skull etched in bone-white on the front of their black blouses. The other six had a yellow skeletal hand. The First raised his arms high and wide, and his attendants spread out beside him, then moved forward to interact with his guests.

  "Master Skellum," the First said formally. "Whose secret name is Cybariss. Welcome."

  "The Cabal is here, Pater."

  "And everywhere."

  Chainer's life froze when the First turned and met his eyes. He had seen the First once before, but he had not seen him in such detail or in such raiment. He was dressed now in black hide, cured and tanned until it was as stiff as glass. His clothing seemed coated in a thin film of oil, especially at the elbows and shoulders. In this simple businesslike robe, head unadorned, he seemed somehow more intimidating than he did in full headdress and regalia.

  "Apprentice Chainer. Whose secret name is Mazeura. Welcome." The First was old, but not wizened. His skin was gray and smooth as stone.