The Dread Lords Rising

by J. David Phillips

  *

  The door to Betsy’s room opened after the fifth knock. Davin fiddled with his fingers nervously as the young maid stuck her head out and eyed the two of them through groggy eyes. Davin was immediately struck by why Maerillus had been so attracted to her. She had a petite, lithe frame and skin so pale it reminded Davin of alabaster. A scarf held her thick blond hair back, which showed off two large and luminous blue eyes. There was something young about them, a quality not of youth, but of the kind of perpetual youth that remained with some women no matter how old they were. Davin could easily imagine how any man might lose himself in her sweetly innocent gaze. Maerillus never seemed to be able to shut up about how her hair, casually pulled back, left him breathless.

  The girl’s eyes, however, were ringed with swollen circles and appeared deeply recessed from a prolonged sickness. As she opened her door wider, Davin became aware that her cheeks held an unhealthy blush.

  Niam cleared his throat nervously. Davin knew that sound very well. Pretty girls always made Niam act . . . well . . . bizarre. Normally, around girls he just made a joke nobody found amusing and wandered off after a long and uncomfortable silence. The sound of Niam’s discomfort brought Davin out of his reverie. When he realized he was gaping at Betsy, he felt ashamed of himself. “Can we talk to you?” Davin blurted out almost too quickly.

  Betsy looked at the two of them, and Davin caught a flicker of recognition flash across her face. She looked as if she were about to say something important; but as soon as the look was there, it was gone. Another expression replaced it that seemed alien and definitely out of place on the girl that had just answered the door.

  “Oh my,” she said, slowly running her eyes appraisingly up and down the two of them. “I’m sure we could find you a place in here.”

  Davin shot Niam a warning glance as Betsy stepped back to invite them in. As she did so, she allowed the robe she wore to fall open enough to partially reveal a soft swell of a breast. She rested herself slightly on one foot, and Davin couldn’t help but notice how her bare knee stuck out and that he had a clear view of the soft, smooth skin of her inner thigh. Davin quickly looked up and noticed Betsy watching him with a wicked smile. Her lips were parted suggestively and she touched her upper lip with the tip of her tongue. The air in the room suddenly seemed to drop. As Davin exhaled, he noticed his breath as a misty vapor in the air. Niam elbowed Davin, and they both raised their eyebrows. Everything that happened next happened within the space of a few seconds.

  As Davin walked into the room, he gave Betsy as wide a berth as possible. Behind him, Niam followed. Davin heard him stop and then let out a surprised noise. Betsy shrieked without warning. Her eyes narrowed into slits and her mouth contorted into a silent snarl of rage. Niam pushed Davin aside and lunged forward. “Grab her!” he cried out in alarm.

  Davin spun completely around and nearly stopped short by what he saw. Betsy crouched down with her fingers clenched in fists of rage. Her eyes blazed with hatred so deep that they now held an almost reptilian savagery. Niam struggled to keep her hands from raking his arms with her fingernails while she cursed and spat obscenities. “You could have had me,” she hissed. “You could have rutted with me like hogs in a sty! I hate you! I hate you! You’re both eunuchs. Piss on you both!”

  What shocked Davin the most was that the voice he heard was not the voice of the girl he had known before. The hackles on the back of his neck stood up. The air in the room was now frigid. Davin took ahold of her arms, and Betsy broke Niam’s grip and knocked Davin back with a powerful swipe of her arm.

  Davin sprung toward her and slipped behind her writhing form.

  “I need to get my hands on her for just a minute,” Niam panted as he struggled with her, trying to keep her from raking his eyes with her fingertips.

  While her attention was directed toward Niam, Davin quickly closed with her, wrapping his arms around her and pinning her against her own bed. Beneath him, Betsy bucked and twisted violently. Her strength was incredible. “Mount me!” she spat. “Go on! Take it! I know you want it!” Betsy gyrated beneath Davin’s weight. He ignored the feel of her body slipping against his. As Niam closed his hands around her again, she taunted him. “You can close your eyes and think of your sister,” she crooned. “I know your brother liked it,” she said viciously.

  Niam’s eyes were shut tightly as he concentrated. Betsy’s body began shaking, and she cried out in terror like a wounded animal. “No! No! Stop that! Pull this sow’s robe up and—”

  Suddenly she froze. Niam bore all of his weight against her as he forced her down into the fabric of the mattress. Betsy held her head back and let out a silent howl of agony.

  Without warning, her arms shot out straight, where they remained, stiff and trembling. Davin felt an immediate release of pressure in the air as Betsy’s body went limp and still. The temperature in the room quickly returned to normal.

  Niam let go of her and stood up straight, looking around as if he was afraid something was going to leap out from the shadows. Davin continued to hold onto her, but her body remained motionless.

  “You can let go of her now,” Niam told him, exhausted from the ordeal.

  Warily, Davin unwound his arms from her prone form. “WHAT was THAT all about?” he asked, nearly dumbstruck.

  Niam shook his head. “I could sense Kreeth’s sorcery when she opened the door. But Davin, there was something else there.”

  Davin watched as his friend spoke. Niam began shaking visibly. “What do you mean something else?”

  With some effort, Niam swallowed, gathering himself before going on. “At first it was like the door in Kreeth’s basement—only instead of seeing the flows of power at work, I felt them. With Betsy it was much stronger than with the old guy. When I got next to her, I felt…”

  “What?” Davin asked softly.

  Niam looked up at him and there was fear in his eyes. “Recognized,” he whispered. “I didn’t even know what I was doing until I was holding onto her.” Niam stopped to wipe a trickle of sweat from his brow before it trailed down from his hairline into his eyes. “This is hard to explain, but I knew that I had to unhook whatever it was that was bound to Betsy. That’s what I did.”

  “Will she be okay?” Davin asked, worried.

  “I hope so,” Niam said. Then a look of revulsion spread across his face. “This was bad, what he did to her. Terrible.”

  Davin knew that what Niam had experienced must have been indescribable. “That looked almost like you . . . well, you know . . . like it was a demon.”

  Niam nodded his head. “It felt like that, too. But I don’t think this wasn’t an exorcism. It was something else. As soon as I separated the presence from Kreeth’s sorcery, the thing was snapped away—like cutting a tight rope. The sorcery was the rope.”

  On the mattress, Betsy began to stir. Slowly, she opened her eyes and looked around, confused. “What’s happened to me,” she asked in a tired and weak voice as she noticed two young men looking down at her with obvious concern in their eyes.

  “We were worried about you,” Davin started to explain, but then thought better of it and added, “Well, Maerillus was the one who was really concerned. So we came over to check on you.”

  Betsy’s eyes lit up at the mention of Maerillus. “Where is he? Why isn’t he here?”

  “Don’t you remember?” Davin asked.

  “Remember what?” she asked, an edge of fear creeping into her voice.

  “He’s recovering at Lord Joachim’s estate.”

  Betsy struggled weakly to sit up. Tears began welling in her eyes. “What’s going on? What’s happened?’

  “He’s okay,” Niam told her as he sat on the opposite side of the bed.
“He just injured his leg is all.”

  “I feel terrible,” she said.

  Davin could tell this wasn’t going the way he would have wanted it to go. Betsy was so frightened that her voice cracked. “Betsy,” he said gently, “we’re going to start over. We think you’ve been sick with the nods. What do you remember?”

  Betsy pulled her robe around her body and tucked her legs in tightly. Her arms were wrapped around her knees and Davin’s heart ached to see her so frail. She looked lost and alone.

  “I remember—not much. Work. I remember going to town. I remember—” And here she stopped as Davin watched the memory of something unpleasant cross her face.

  Softly, Betsy began to cry. “I was somewhere in the woods. I remember that awful man. He . . . he . . . I don’t know. I’m sorry. I just don’t remember much of what happened.”

  Niam placed a hand on her shoulder. “It’s okay. A lot of people have had bad experiences because of him.”

  “That’s right,” Davin said. “You’re not alone.”

  Betsy wiped her nose. “You promise?”

  “Absolutely,” Niam told her.

  “Will you come with us?” Davin asked softly.

  Betsy looked up uncertainly. “Where?”

  “Where you can rest and get better,” Niam said.

  Betsy looked up at both of them and tried very hard to give them a brave smile. Holding out an arm, she asked, “Can you help me?”

  “Absolutely,” Davin said, helping her up. As they walked her to Gaius Sartor’s office to request a carriage, Davin wondered how he was going to keep out of trouble with Lord Joachim now.