Demon Lord (14 page)

When a blaze roared lustily,
Bane glanced around to ensure that the girl was nearby, noting her
position. She sat as close to the fire as she could, enjoying the
warmth. She probably thought he had built it for her comfort, the
stupid girl. He strolled over to her, and she looked up with a
smile, her eyes filled with trusting gratitude. She did think it
was for her. He quelled a smirk.

"Warm enough?"

"Yes Bane, it is lovely."

Bane nodded. "I want you to sit
right here, get nice and warm."

Her smile widened, lighting her
face, and Bane turned away, chuckling. He stood before the fire and
basked in its hot caress as he allowed the flames to lick at his
clothes. It could not harm him. The dark power protected him now as
it had done in the Underworld, where any Overworld creature would
perish within moments from the heat without the Black Lord's
protection. Once Bane had mastered the dark magic, he had no longer
needed his father's protection.

Raising his arms, he uttered a
short chant, no more than a few words of command, spoken in a
harsh, guttural tongue. The dark power burnt as it was invoked, and
brought its familiar pain and nausea. He lowered his arms as it
coursed through him to empower the summoning. The girl stared at
him, her eyes wide with trepidation, then her gaze was jerked to
the flames as they changed colour.

A black ring crept outwards from
the fire, crisping the grass to ash. The red-gold flames changed to
deep crimson, shot with black and green as they flared, and men
scrambled away into deeper shadows. The girl sat motionless, like a
startled rabbit, her eyes riveted to what formed in the fire.

A delicately chiselled head
arose, and a massive, glowing neck took shape, ablaze with a mane
of yellow fire. Molten eyes glared, and flared nostrils snorted
flame. The demon steed pranced, its hooves scattering coals as it
manifested, becoming real. It stepped from the flames, its eyes
aglow and neck arched, and Bane gave it its first silent
command.

The demon steed turned to the
girl and advanced on her with mincing steps, flames jetting from
its nostrils. The witch stared at it, wide-eyed and frozen with
terror. With a roar, the stallion reared over her. Its burning
hooves almost grazed her face, thudding into the grass beside her.
She scrambled away, raising an arm to ward off its flames as her
skin blistered, healing slowly. Silently he urged the demon steed
closer, and it lowered its head to sear her with its fiery breath.
She screamed, either from pain or terror, it was music to his ears,
but her next cry was not.

"Bane! Help me!"

Cold flashed through Bane like a
lance of ice, startling him. His mental command made the stallion
leap away with a toss of its head, its eyes glaring rage. He
scowled at the girl, furious that her cry had sparked such a
strange reaction in him. He strode over to her as she crawled
towards him, holding out a hand.

Bane slapped it away. "You
simpleton! Do not call out to me for help!"

She glanced at the demon steed
with wide eyes. "It was trying to kill me."

"Perhaps one day I will let it.
I summoned it, and I control it."

The witch paled even more. "You
told it to attack me?"

Bane laughed, her hurt,
disbelieving expression restoring his humour. "You are here for my
entertainment, stupid witch. When I have no more use for you, I
will kill you. Do not ask for my help again!"

The girl looked forlorn, and he
turned to face the demon steed. It was the one he wanted. Drallis,
one of the more powerful demon steeds, a mighty Underworld
creature. It lowered its head in a deep bow, and he smiled.
Tomorrow he would ride in style, even if the men slowed him. The
sooner he could do away with the rabble, the better.

Bane pointed at the chained
dragon and issued his second command. The demon steed's eyes
brightened, and it leapt at the Overworld beast. Bane gripped the
girl's arm and dragged her closer, so she would suffer with it. The
dragon woke from its exhausted sleep at the approaching thunder of
the demon steed's hooves and reared up, its mouth agape to reveal
its armament of white teeth. The demon steed tore into it with
pounding hooves, and it fought back valiantly, but was no match for
the stallion, whose razor hooves cut through its scaly hide like
butter. The demon steed's fiery breath seared it, making it thrash
in the chains as it clawed and tore at the demon steed with sharp
teeth. The touch of the stallion's flesh only brought the dragon
more pain, and it roared in anguish.

Bane shared his attention with
the writhing girl, who gasped and whimpered. As the dragon died,
she cried out with it, tears streaking her face. When only bloody
pulp remained of the beast, the demon steed tore at the meat. The
witch vomited, and Bane flung her away in disgust, surprised when
she fled into the darkness. He gestured at Mord to bring her back
and moved away from her mess. Well satisfied with the night's
amusement, he retired to his tent and flung himself on the bed.

Only one thing spoilt it, and
that was his reaction to the girl's cry for help. He should have
ignored it, not been chilled by it, as if in sudden fear. The
headache started, and he shouted for Mord. The troll pushed the
girl into the tent, then vanished again to fetch the potion. Bane
glared at the shivering witch, whose ragged hair straggled around
her pale face, her grass-stained robe damp with dew. She huddled in
the corner, her face buried in her knees. Bane eyed her sourly.
This creature was going to kill him? Impossible. His father had to
be wrong this time. She was as helpless as a baby, and little more
than a child.

Mord brought Bane's potion, and
he drained the cup, flinging it out for the troll to pick up. After
a while, the pounding in his temples faded to a dull ache behind
his eyes. He reached over and cuffed the girl, making her look
up.

"Do not run away from me again,
or I will put chains on you."

"I am sorry, it was just so
awful. The poor dragon."

"Poor dragon," he sneered. "It
was meant to be awful, lack wit. I enjoy your suffering. Why else
do I keep you? Do you think I like you?" He gave a harsh laugh. "I
tire of telling you, when you get boring, you die."

Bane flung himself back onto the
bed, wearied by his use of the power, the ache behind his eyes a
constant reminder of its ill effects. The girl curled up on the
floor, and he closed his eyes.

Chapter Six

Water Demon

Two days later, they reached the
sea town. Bane forced Mirra to walk beside his fiery demon steed,
which horrified her. It radiated dark power as the demons had,
making her ill just to be near it. Its molten eyes sought her
often, and its gaze was repellent.

The sea town had no
fortifications of any kind. It clung to the peaceful beaches of a
cove, straggling into the surrounding countryside, where cultivated
fields nestled between low walls made from loose rocks stacked upon
each other, marking the boundaries of each farmer's land. The white
houses looked like toys in the distance, each with a grey thatched
roof, set in a patchwork of rich brown and vivid green. Beyond
them, the sea broke upon a white beach, its deep blue edged with
spume. This was a proper sea port. A long stone quay had been built
along the rocky side of the cove, where deep water came right up to
the land. Warehouses lined the wharf, and several ocean-going ships
were moored there.

At first Mirra thought she would
have to witness another slaughter, for this town was still
inhabited, unlike those they had passed through since the fishing
village. It soon became obvious that the people were prepared for
the Demon Lord's coming, however. Bells rang out in warning, and
distant farmers fled into the town, abandoning their homes. Within
a few minutes, ships headed out to sea, laden with the city's
erstwhile inhabitants.

The evacuation must have been
planned and drilled, for it was achieved with remarkable speed.
Bane cursed, and the demon steed leapt into a gallop towards the
town, leaving scorched hoof prints behind it. Mord snatched Mirra
up and ran after him, and the army followed with a great roar and
rattling of weapons. The dark creatures burst from the woods,
vampires taking wing to cross the cultivated land around the town,
their dark forms melting into the shadows of the buildings when
they reached it.

By the time they arrived on the
quay, it was deserted. The ships sailed away in the distance, the
icy wind stretching their sails. Mord deposited Mirra near Bane,
who sat on the stallion, gazing out to sea. He dismounted, shooting
her a sour look, anger radiating from him.

"Those fools will pay for this
headache."

The demon steed stepped back as
Bane raised his arms, and Mord fled. Mirra backed away, her stomach
clenched as the dark power oozed from Bane and licked over him in
black flames. When she was beyond its influence, she watched him
gather the power that flowed from him in rivers of shadow and send
it streaking away across the sea with a flick of his hand. The bolt
of darkness split as it reached the fleet, dividing into many
streaks of shadow. Each headed for a ship, and Mirra gasped as
several vessels exploded in flashes of orange fire, the muted
thunderclaps reaching them moments later. One bolt of darkness did
not destroy its target, but spread and settled over a ship in a
foul mantle, like a black fog.

The Demon Lord's hands twitched,
his fingers moving in subtle motions. His ink-black eyes glowed
redly, and his hair bristled as if full of static, lifting and
swirling in a spectral wind. For a time, nothing seemed to happen.
Bane and the demon steed stood as if carved from stone, while the
men who hid around the wharf muttered. Mirra studied the cloaked
ship, which was growing larger. Slowly, but gaining speed, the ship
was being dragged backwards. Its sails, dim in the black fog, hung
from the masts, and people ran around the decks.

As the ship re-entered the
harbour, waves foaming at its stern, the passengers and crew dived
off. Tar waterproofed its hull and pitch caulked its sun-bleached
grey decks. Patched, yellowed sails hung from the spars amid
sagging brown ropes. Gleams of copper and brass came from polished
fittings and the broad bands that strapped the masts. On the bow,
the name 'Sea Bird' was painted in white, but Bane had robbed of
her of her ability to fly before the wind.

Bane brought the ship alongside
the wharf, booming against the rubbing timbers. With a wave, he
dissipated the black fog. By the time it cleared, only one man
remained on board, standing beside the helm. The giant, red-bearded
man, barrel-chested and brown-skinned, wore a sailor's leather vest
and loose cotton pantaloons. Leather thongs caught the trousers at
the knee and crisscrossed his calves to the sturdy sandals on his
feet. Bright tattoos decorated his brawny arms and chest, and he
glared at Bane with icy green eyes, his broad, weather-beaten face
set in a wintry expression.

Bane turned and beckoned to
Mirra, who froze, then obeyed when he frowned. He took hold of her
arm, ignoring her whimper, and dragged her aboard the ship. The
captain watched Bane's progress with narrowed eyes, a pipe clamped
in his mouth. Bane was as tall as the giant, Mirra was surprised to
note. Until now, everyone who ventured close to him did so while
cowering, and she had not been able to appreciate just how tall the
Demon Lord was. His slenderness was misleading, for Bane, she
realised, had to be six and a half feet tall.

A slow, cruel smile curved his
lips. The black had faded from his eyes, and bright blue met cold
green. The captain was the first man Mirra had seen who did not
cower from the Demon Lord. Instead, he drew himself up and puffed a
cloud of smoke.

"Good afternoon, Captain," Bane
said in a mocking tone.

The captain pulled the pipe out
of his mouth and blew smoke in Bane's direction. "What's good about
it?"

"For you, not much. Your crew
seems to have abandoned you. For me, lots. I have a ship, which I
need to take me to the Isle of Lume."

"Not my ship."

"Come now, Captain, you are in a
poor bargaining position."

To Mirra's amazement, the
captain leant forward and poked a stubby finger into Bane's chest.
"I'll not deal with the likes of you, sonny; you can go burn in the
Underworld."

Bane chuckled. "How courageous
of you, Captain. You have obviously deduced that if I need a ship,
I also need a captain to sail her, and you would be right. However,
there are many ways to make you co-operate, so do not try my
patience. Do you know what this is?" He pulled Mirra forward.

The captain nodded. "A
healer."

"How would you like to see her
suffer?"

"You can't harm a healer,
sonny."

The Demon Lord smiled with cold
malice. "But I can. You see, she has almost no power left, so she
does feel pain."

The red-bearded captain glanced
at Mirra. "Is this true, healer?"

Sadly, she nodded.

Bane tightened his grip, and she
gasped. The pain was not bad, but it leaked through her blocks now.
"You see, Captain, I know you people revere healers, so you would
not like to see her suffer, would you?"

"No. But neither would I like to
have you aboard my ship, sonny."

"Either way, you will take me to
the island or someone will suffer, if necessary, more than
one."

The captain turned to Mirra.
"Healer?"

Bane looked amazed. "You ask her
what to do? Her stupidity knows no bounds. I hardly think her
qualified to give you advice, Captain; you would do better to quiz
a seagull."

The captain's face mottled with
rage, but Mirra put a hand on his arm. "He will take your ship, one
way or another. I am not afraid to suffer, and nor are you, but it
would be futile. He can use your ship without you, he just wishes
to spare himself a headache, nothing more."