The Warrior's Tale Part 15

Oh, please, Master, if only I could... eat.

I heard low groans from the others as they sank into misery. Instinctively, I fought the weakness, but knew that until the right moment I must give way. I let myself go, struggling only to keep a kernel of reason alive. I became pitifully fragile again, and hungry -so -so hungry. I babbled to my Master, my good, kind Master for food. Something dark and ugly stirred and said I must obey Him in all things. My thoughts shrilled agreement and abas.e.m.e.nt and the ugliness chortled acceptance. I became glad as hatred flooded in, numbing the hunger. The hatred gave me strength and it was directed at - my fleet! They must die, all of them must die. Then and only then could I feed! I almost broke under that hot outpouring of anger. It was time to act, but I didn't have the will. I searched frantically for that seed of self I'd planted. Just as I was about to give up hope, abandoning myself to my Master, I found it. I gripped it hard in my mind. Tighter and tighter still, until I could feel my hands reflexing into fists and my nails biting deep into my palms. Sweat burst from my pores, and then I felt a coolness. Strength returned and I rose and one by one took my weeping companions by the hand and led them through the magical web. It parted, accepting us - sensing no danger. We rested on the other side, quite whole again, with only a ravening thirst to mark the ordeal. I made no protest as each of my women emptied the flasks of watered wine we carried. This would be the last chance we had to drink. hungry. I babbled to my Master, my good, kind Master for food. Something dark and ugly stirred and said I must obey Him in all things. My thoughts shrilled agreement and abas.e.m.e.nt and the ugliness chortled acceptance. I became glad as hatred flooded in, numbing the hunger. The hatred gave me strength and it was directed at - my fleet! They must die, all of them must die. Then and only then could I feed! I almost broke under that hot outpouring of anger. It was time to act, but I didn't have the will. I searched frantically for that seed of self I'd planted. Just as I was about to give up hope, abandoning myself to my Master, I found it. I gripped it hard in my mind. Tighter and tighter still, until I could feel my hands reflexing into fists and my nails biting deep into my palms. Sweat burst from my pores, and then I felt a coolness. Strength returned and I rose and one by one took my weeping companions by the hand and led them through the magical web. It parted, accepting us - sensing no danger. We rested on the other side, quite whole again, with only a ravening thirst to mark the ordeal. I made no protest as each of my women emptied the flasks of watered wine we carried. This would be the last chance we had to drink.

There was no one to stop us or give the alarm as we went through the cavernous entrance into what appeared to have once been an enormous s.h.i.+p's hold. We almost bolted as soon as we entered. It was filled with men. But they seemed asleep, or spellbound, as they twisted and groaned on the deck. I suspected the latter because the sound of the celebration echoed even louder than before, but did not seem to disturb them - at least not as much as their dreams. We crept through the men, stepping over, or dodging as they thrashed about in some nightmare's grip. I stopped at a ma.s.sive wooden pillar in the centre, pulled out a long piece of red thread and wrapped it about the post. We went on, stopping now and again for me to tie other bits of thread around likely timbers and supports.

We climbed ladders to a higher deck; went along pa.s.sages and climbed again. The only people we saw were asleep, and all of them were men. Everywhere we went I found dry timbers for my thread. At last we came out into the open on the main-deck. Towering above us was the central turret. Stairs spiralled up. At the top, circular windows spilled light and sound. The light was so intense our shadows were cast huge across the empty deck. I left Ismet and five others behind to guard our retreat, and sprinted to the tower - Jacara and Polillo. at my heels. Once there, the two of them split off in opposite directions to scout the circ.u.mference of the turret, while I got out my last spool of thread. There was just enough to complete the job. We tied it around the turret - circling it twice. I made the final knot. Now it was time to spring the trap. But before I did, I wanted to see who we faced.

I motioned for Ismet to wait and Polillo and I went up the staircase. At the top it joined a circular deck. There was an open door to one side. I could see figures prancing about. On the other side was one of the windows. Polillo and I moved toit, crouching low. Then we came cautiously up to look. Polillo sucked in her breath in shock. I don't know what either of us expected, but what we witnessed in that turret chamber is not a tale to tell to children, or even hardened companions over a jug of wine and a tavern roast.

It was an immense room, containing all the goods looted from the s.h.i.+ps that had been caught in the sarga.s.so net. There were great piles of finery and trunks of gems and golden plate. Stacked all around were sacks of what appeared to be grain and rare spices. The walls were cluttered with all manner of tapestries, draped brocades and silk. Old weapons and s.h.i.+elds and armour also hung from the walls, as well as odd, rusted machines whose original purpose I could not decipher. In the centre of the room a pot large enough to feed an army bubbled and smoked over leaping flames. The fire shot out so many different hot colours that I knew it must be magical. Hunks of flesh roiled about inside the pot. It gave off a smell I do not care to dwell on. The music the men, danced to blared out from everywhere and nowhere. At intervals a man would dart from the pack, jam his bare hand in the boiling liquid, screaming in pain as he fished about until he caught a hunk of meat and pulled it out. Then he'd gobble at it madly, sobbing all the while. But no sooner would he choke down a few bites than several others would claw and fight to grab a morsel away.

I was so shaken it was a moment before I saw who presided over the insanity. But there was no mistaking who the master was. The demon was sprawled across a raised platform, carpeted with thick tapestries. From his yellow-taloned feet to the single barbed horn that curled from his forehead, he was at least two javelin-lengths long. The horn was mottled white and shot with red, like fat from a butchered pig. His arms were long, like an ape's, and his hands were taloned, as were his feet. He had death-white scales for skin and a long, barbed tail that lashed about in pleasure each time a man made the painful trip to the boiling pot. Although he was long in length, his body carried no extra weight. He was all heavy bone, big knotted joints, ribs like s.h.i.+p's staves, and long cabled muscles. His horned head was flat and shovel-shaped, with two red-rimmed holes for a nose and sharp ribbed bone for lips. As we watched, another fight erupted. In the struggle for food one of them mistakenly ripped the flesh away from another man's arm with his teeth, but gobbled it down without hesitation. The beast I knew to be the Master howled in delight. It was the same unearthly sound we'd heard shrieking over the music since we began our journey. His teeth were pointed and as long as a finger, his tongue a quick-flickering ribbon of greyish pink.

It is unfair of me to brand the demon 'him', for I cannot say with certainty he was not actually a she. I have been fortunate to know more good men than evil and have always been well treated by those men most important to me. Sol must apologize for this description, but it's how I think of that demon to this day. Although he was naked, I could not tell what manner of s.e.xual organ was between the demon's legs. I saw only a bulbous white lump, ringed with red. I did not care to let my gaze linger to see if a p.e.n.i.s emerged when he became most amused at the painful antics of his slaves.

Polillo nudged me and pointed. On a broad, carpeted step just below the platform I saw the source of the music. It was a woman - the only woman we'd seen among the demon's slaves. She was also the only person we'd seen who was fat. Naked as the others, she had immense b.r.e.a.s.t.s that drooped over a bulging middle, legs and arms so obese they looked nearly useless and she sat on huge hams wreathed with roll after roll of fat. She was short - even seated you could see she wouldn't stand much higher than a normal person's belt buckle. Her hair hung in greasy strings from a head so small in all that obesity that it looked like a doll's. Her eyes were mere dots and she had a little bow of a mouth that she kept pursed as she played on an odd lyre-like instrument. It had a deep black frame and was strung with strands of a grey, fleshy-looking material that gleamed with moisture that oozed down along the strings as she played. Her hands moved smoothly over the lyre, stroking rather than plucking the strings. All sorts of sounds screeched out to the rhythm of the whirling men. Beside her was a wooden trencher the size of a small table and on it were heaped ma.s.ses of food - mounds of grain mush, lumps of boiled meat clotted with fat, and heaps of crabs and other sh.e.l.lfish.

The Master seemed to tire of his amus.e.m.e.nts. His tail flicked out to stroke the woman. She turned to him and drooled what I think was a smile. She nodded as if he'd spoken and stopped playing. In the silence, the men immediately fell to the floor, abasing themselves to the demon.

'We love you, Master,' they chorused. 'You are all that is love and all that is beauty and all that is good.'

The demon opened his mouth and spoke: 'I give you eat,' he said. His voice rasped out dry and rattling like a serpent's warning.

'Yes, Master,' the men cried. 'You give us eat.'

'Others not eat,' the demon said.

'They are unworthy, Master,' the men responded.

'I give them sleep,' the demon said.

'Sleep, yes sleep. You give them the gift of sleep.'

As he spoke the woman was stuffing herself with food from the trencher. She ate with both hands and food spilled from her mouth and ran in streams down her chin to drip on her pendulous b.r.e.a.s.t.s.

'Tomorrow, more eat,' the demon said. 'Tomorrow all eat!'

The men became so excited their chorus shattered into all manner of wild praises.

'Tomorrow,' the demon continued, 'you go s.h.i.+ps. Bring more eat for all.'

I felt Polillo shudder. He was speaking of us. The men screamed promises to kill us all. But they grew suddenly quiet as the demon rose to his full height, towering over them.

'Not kill all,' he roared. 'Kill some. Keep some. Slaves for Master. Eat for Master.' The men groaned agreement, vowing obedience in all things.

The demon turned to the woman. She was scooping food into her mouth, but seemed to sense that he wanted her and stopped in mid-shovel.

She said: 'Master eat now, yes?' Her voice was gentle, little-girl-sweet.

'Yes. Bring good eat,' the demon said.

The woman shook the food off her hands - almost daintily, and rose. She waddled among the kneeling men, poking them, pinching their arms and haunches and groins. After she had gone among them all, she circled once again, making sure. Four men were tapped on the shoulder.

They shrieked in false joy. 'Thank you, Master. Thank you for finding me worthy.'

The demon gestured and they scuttled forward on their knees.

His tail whipped out and plucked one of the men off the floor. The barbed end drove into the man's flesh and the demon lifted him up, babbling in terror and pain. Then he plunged the man into the boiling pot, howling with glee as the man screamed and writhed. Then he drew him out, still alive and struggling, dangled him over his mouth and began to eat. He started on the toes and crunched upward, all the more to enjoy the man's agony.

I turned away from the window, gut roiling. I could bear no more. I looked at Polillo, ghastly pale with sickness. Neither of us could speak. We put our arms around one another, finding sanity and warmth in the embrace. Polillo sniffled back tears and drew away.

'I would like very much to kill that... thing,' she said.

'I promise him to you,' I said, 'if we get the chance.'

We fled back down the stairs, gathered Jacara and the others and retreated the way we had come. In a few minutes we were slipping through the heaps of spellbound men and then we were outside, catching our breath in the moist night air. When we were ready I ordered everyone to take up position just outside the yawning entrance. Polillo grinned evilly, unsheathed her axe, and began slicing this way and that to limber up. The others drew their various weapons and stretched stiff muscles while I knelt and began my preparations. I unrolled a thin sheet of leather, marked with symbols Gamelan had me copy out of his book. I used a few sticks of magical incense for tinder, sprinkled on a bit of powdered charcoal Gamelan said came from a holy tree and struck a long spark with flint and steel. The spark ignited the tinder and I blew gently into the small pile until a steady glow burned on the leather parchment. I'd saved a small bit of the red thread. This I dipped into a vial of oil and dangled over the glowing particles while I chanted: He who dwells In fire...

She who sleeps In flame...

I release you!

There was a small flash of heat and light as I dropped the thread onto the parchment. Quickly I rolled it up into a tube. I rose, swinging the tube about my head until it burst into flames. Although my whole hand seemed alight, I felt no heat or pain. I rushed to the entrance and hurled the burning ma.s.s inside. It fell near a knot of sleeping men. No one stirred as the parchment tube began to hiss and throw off a shower of sparks. I stood there watching, cold with guilt, as the flames grew higher and brighter. In the centre of the hold I saw the thread I'd tied about the big post begin to glow. Then the post exploded into flame. Still, not one man stirred. I backed out, looking up to see other places where I had tied the thread glow into hot life, then burst into hungry, licking flames.

We heard the first screams as the centre turret caught and became a roaring wall of fire. I saw naked men run out onto the landing, but it caught as well, enveloping them, turning them into charred, writhing flesh. Then the landing collapsed, spreading fire across the big main-deck.

I heard a bellow of enraged pain and looked up to see the demon break through one of the windows. He clung there for a moment, then reached in to pull out the woman. He put her on his shoulders, then climbed to the top of the turret. He stood there, flames all around him, head swivelling this way and that. Then he seemed to look direcdy at us. His taloned hand shot out, stabbing at us and he roared in fury.

'Awake!' he shouted. 'Awake!'

In the hold I heard screams of agony as the spellbound men came to and found themselves on fire, or surrounded by flame.

'Kill them!' the demon shouted. 'Kill them!'

Men came stumbling out of the smoke, some on fire, some coughing blackness, but they were not fleeing, but charging us, clawing with their nails, or stabbing with swords they'd scrabbled up when the demon awoke them. But they were helpless before my women. Polillo howled her battle-cry and leaped in, chopping about with her axe. Ismet and the others called for Maranonia to give them strength and cut down anyone within reach. Within a few short minutes the rolling kelp ground around them was heaped with bodies and slick with flowing blood. The men were hurled back into the inferno to die. Some tried to break free, but each time, my women fought so furiously that the only escape was a fiery death.

I held back, watching to see what the demon would do next. He was howling with helpless fury, screaming for his slaves to attack. A sheet of flame burst through the roof of the turret and he leaped back. The woman lost her grip and fell from her perch, screaming as she plummeted downward. She hit, seeming to bounce as the kelp absorbed the shock and then I saw her rise up, screaming with fear.

Polillo,' I shouted. She turned her blood-spattered face towards me and I pointed at the woman, who was only a few feet away. 'I want her!'

Polillo bounded over and as the woman tried to scramble away, Polillo clubbed her down with the flat of her axe, scooped her up and threw her over her shoulder.

The demon howled in fury. More flames exploded through the roof of the turret. But instead of destroying him, they seemed only to make him stronger. His body glowed with energy and he seemed to be growing longer. The glow became an armoured carapace and as I watched, six insect-like legs shot out from his sides, pivoting in muscular sockets. He came scuttling down the sides of the turret, straight through the fire. His jaws sprouted snapping mandibles as he ran, and his long barbed tail dripped with venom.

I shouted for the others to retreat and we all turned and ran. I sent Jacara speeding ahead to alert the s.h.i.+p. The path was plain before us. The oil Polillo had dribbled behind us was now a luminescent path straight to my s.h.i.+p and safety.

I chanced a look over my shoulder as I ran and saw the demon drop to the ground. He screamed for his slaves and I saw the survivors boiling out, gnas.h.i.+ng their teeth and crying for our blood.

Then the demon called my name: 'Antero! I kill you, Antero!'

I only ran harder, leaping over the nests where Polillo and I had fallen through. As I neared the last one a tentacle curled out. It was huge and ringed with gaping suckers. It snaked around Ismet and she cried out in pain. But before the beast could tighten its grasp I was there, my sword slicing through the tentacle. The kelp erupted under us as the beast reacted to the pain. Ismet stripped away the still writhing stump, and I saw b.l.o.o.d.y scars where the suckers had bit. We ran on, but the time lost was enough for our enemy to gain. They were right on our heels, now, and behind them the demon was cursing and hissing and urging them on.

I saw our s.h.i.+p and at the same moment heard a great rus.h.i.+ng as our archers fired their volley. Behind me, men cried out as the arrows found their marks. When Polillo reached the s.h.i.+p, she flung our captive on board, then turned to unlimber her axe.

'Come on you swine-lovers,' she shouted. 'I've got something sweet for you.' She whirled the axe above her head.

Some of the men cut in to flank us and she hammered them down as Ismet and the others were helped aboard. From the deck, another flight of arrows was sent a-hunting. Finally, I reached the s.h.i.+p. I turned to join Polillo, but saw the demon was calling his slaves back. Scores of bodies heaped the rolling plain, all eerily lit by the fire that was consuming the demon's lair. As for the demon, I saw him transform back to his original shape, then snarling and hissing, lead his men deep into the darkness, until I could see them no more.

'They gave up too easily,' Polillo grumbled. 'I was just getting warmed up.'

'Don't worry,' I gasped. 'He'll be back.'

Exhausted, I climbed on board into the welcoming arms of my Guardswomen. They all cheered and pounded our backs and pa.s.sed around wineskins to slake our thirst.

I upended a bag and drank mightily, letting the cool wine overflow and spill down my body. Tiredness fled the boozy river. I felt very well indeed. It hadn't been a great victory, but it was good enough for now.

I slept for a few hours and rose early, quite refreshed, to prepare for our next encounter with the demon. I had no doubt he'd come, especially since we had his favourite slave for bait. Her name was Chahar, and she was quite nonplussed at being a captive. I had a tent made of cheerful material erected on the main-deck and had her brought to me for interrogation.

'You'll be sorry,' she said as soon as she entered. 'My Master, " Elam, loves me. He'll make you pay.'

I didn't tell her I was counting on her dear Elam trying that very thing. I merely indicated some soft pillows I'd had installed for her to plant her naked haunches on. Polillo hovered over her, anxious to apply whatever pain was necessary to learn what we needed to know. The image of the demon's chamber of horrors haunted her, as it did me, and it was not unnatural for her to want revenge for all those poor souls.

'Give me the fat little b.i.t.c.h for half an hour,' she growled. 'She'll spill her guts, or I'll cut them out to make sausage for our supper.'

Chahar shrank back in fear. I gave Polillo a wink, saying, 'We shouldn't be too hasty. Perhaps we have been wrong about Lord Elam.'

Gamelan, who was also in attendance for the questioning took up my theme. 'You are quite right, Captain Antero,' he said. 'We could have misjudged the good Lord Elam. Perhaps he really is a good master who will treat us handsomely if we serve him well.'

'Oh, he would? would? Chahar said. 'He can really be very kind. He just acts angry sometimes because he's so sad.' Chahar said. 'He can really be very kind. He just acts angry sometimes because he's so sad.'

'Sad?' Gamelan asked. 'Why would such a powerful lord be sad?'

'He's lonely 'cause he can't go home,' she answered.

'Oh, really}' really}' I said. 'Tell us more, my dear. And while you're at it, Legate Polillo will bring you something to eat. This has all been such a trial, I'm sure you're famished.' I said. 'Tell us more, my dear. And while you're at it, Legate Polillo will bring you something to eat. This has all been such a trial, I'm sure you're famished.'

'Well, I could eat just a little bit,' she said, holding two fingers slightly apart for ill.u.s.tration. 'It wouldn't be polite for me to refuse.'

Polillo glowered, but I tipped her another wink and the glower stretched into the best smile she could make under the circ.u.mstances -more a curling sneer than anything. She went off to do my bidding. I sat down on the deck next to Chahar and chatted idly about this and that until Polillo returned. She'd caught on to what I intended, and enlisted some help to bring huge platters of every variety of food we could manage. Chahar plunged in with both fists, and was soon a greasy mess.

When I thought her lulled enough by bloat, I resumed my questioning. 'You said your Master couldn't return home. Why is that?'

Chahar daintily wiped away a gob of food dangling from her lower lip.' 'Cause he's lost,' she said. 'See, he's not from here. He's from...' she waved her hands, searching for words. They didn't come. '... Not from this place. Not from any place. Sort of.'

'You mean, another world?' Gamelan asked.

'Yes,' Chahar said. 'Not our world. But another one. That's where he's from. That's where his home is.'

'How did that come to be?' I asked.

'Well. He 'splained it to me once, and it's kind of hard to remember everything. And I'm not too smart. I'm not too good at most anything. Except making my Master happy. I know what he wants, even if he doesn't ask me out loud. I can make him happv. That's what I'm good at.'

Gamelan's bushy eyebrows raised over blind eyes. 'She is his Favourite,' he said to me.

'Oh, I am!' Chahar said brighdy. 'I'm his favourite over everybody else.'

I knew that's not what Gamelan meant. He meant her role was the same minor demons played to some wizards in our world, such as the little fellow who cooked Gamelan's meals and now did my bidding when I needed small tasks performed. But I didn't say this. I patted her hand.

'I'm sure you are, my dear,' I said. 'Now, tell me, how did Lord Elam find himself in this terrible predicament?'

'As near as I remember, he said he was brought here by an evil wizard. He was ... uh, summoned ... that's the word. And this bad wizard was so powerful that my Master couldn't help himself. So he came. And the wizard made him do things. And then the wizard was killed in some kind of fight, and now my Master doesn't know how to get back home. He's lost, you see. And he's been lost for maybe two hundred years.'

She made a broad gesture with one hand, indicating the great sarga.s.so we were trapped in. 'It's taken him all this time to make this. So he has a place to live, and can eat, and get servants and everything. He says it's sort of like a big spider's web. Except it's not really that big. That's what he says, at least. He's making it bigger all the time.'

I pretended to scoff at this. 'Come now! No one could have made something like this. Even your Master isn't powerful enough for that!'

Chahar was indignant. 'He certainly did! And he keeps on doing it. He makes the winds stop. And he makes the kelp grow and stick together. And he makes the others happy, even when he hurts them. He doesn't do that 'cause he's mean, or anything. It just makes his food taste better. 'Sides, he never hurts me. Well, maybe a teensy bit when he needs some of my blood for his magic. And that's not very bad. I make a little cut and drip some of my blood in his cup, which he mixes some other stuff in. It only stings a little, and he's so kind he lets me eat extra whenever he does, so I don't mind so much.'

'Why did he choose you for this, my dear?' Gamelan asked. 'What makes your blood so special?'

Chahar scooped up more food. 'My father was a witch,' she said, matter-of-factly. She ate. We waited until she swallowed. 'I'm not a witch. But my father was. Then he died. And the new witch made a big ceremony for the funeral. My people built a long boat and put all his stuff in it. Also me and my mother and all my brothers and sisters. Ten of us, there were, 'sides my mother. Then they pulled the boat out and let the current get it and it took us away. Far away. Finally, I got here. And my Master found me.'

'Just you?' I asked. 'What happened to the others?'

Chahar shrugged. 'They got dead,' she said. 'We didn't have any food. So we had to eat the ones that died all by themselves. Then they started looking at me, 'cause I'm kinda fat, I guess. So one night I killed the ones who were left. With a knife. While they were asleep. Then I had plenty of food.' She gnawed on a bird haunch. Then she said: 'I ate my mother last. She was pretty skinny. Anyway, that's how I got here. And I guess my blood is special because even though I'm not a witch, I got enough of my father in me to make my blood just right for my Master's magic'

We were all struck dumb by her adventures.

Gamelan was the first to recover. He said: 'That makes you very ...' he coughed '... special, indeed, my dear. But, tell us, don't you ever miss your home? Your people?'

Chahar gave a vigorous shake of her head, quaking her fat from jowl to thigh. 'Never,' she said. 'They weren't nice to me. Ever. Not even when I made the stick charts for them. The hunters would just grab them out of my hands and say mean things.'

'Stick charts?' I said, trying to hide my excitement. 'What stick charts?'

'The ones my father had me make, silly,' she said. 'Sometimes the hunters have to go a long way in their boats, so my father would give them stick charts so they could find their way to the places they had to go where there was game, and then get back.'

*Why did he have you you make them?' make them?'

Chahar gave me a look like I was a dunce. "Cause we had to have lots of them. And they'd get lost or broken. So we'd have to make more. My father didn't have time to do all that, and my brothers and sisters were always busy working. I wasn't good at it, but since I used to get sick a lot and couldn't work, my father had me do it. Then he'd bless them and that was that!' 'Could you make one, now?' I asked.

Chahar snorted.' 'Course I could. I'm not smart, but I did so many of them I could never forget. Sometimes I even dream about it.' She shuddered. 'When I have bad dreams. About home.'

'Would you make one for us?' I pressed.

Chahar shook her head. 'I don't think my Master Elam would like that,' she said.

'He wouldn't mind,' I said, 'if in return we let you go.'

Chahar stared at me, hard. "What do you need it for? You're never going to get out of here.'