Ashar'an Rising (Nexus Wars Saga) (40 page)

Andrak nodded, and silence followed as the two turned to watch the healers finishing their ministrations on the female Elf, who was now lying motionless as were the others, yet her face retained color, suggesting she was still alive. With luck, she would live, it seemed.

But thinking about the possibilities of the days to come, Andrak wondered if she would not be luckier to have shared the fate of her two other companions.

The
mist  like screen dissipated from before the Demon, the human's visage that had filled its milky depths fading with it. Hammagor's grim visage was fixed with concentration from the brief meeting.

Ashar'an?
That the Demon’s ancient allies were still alive where the Kay’taari were not, surprised the Demon, considering the events of the War of Ascension.

Yet, the Sorcerer’s admittance of at least two existing Kay’taari angered the Demon almost to the point of blind rage. Although the Sorcerer having one as a slave was in a little way humorous, the second who roamed free could prove dangerous. His minions had yet to catch up with this Kay’taari, his aura having disappeared some time back, but it was unlikely the Kay’taari was dead, perhaps shielding himself to avoid detection and death, though he had never heard of such a talent being employed by the Dragon people in the past.

Dragon people! Even more than Elves, Demons loathed the Dragons, creatures of mighty and pure spirit, just as the demons were creations of the Unlife. The Demon knew they still existed, though it was impossible to make an exact calculation on how many there were.

Yet Hammagor knew his plans were still moving into place as he had expected, albeit slower than he would have liked. Only two Nexus Gates were as yet functional, his and the one at the Elvin glade, but the Sorcerer had told him the one in Sha’kar should be operational in as little as a few weeks.

A sudden feeling caught the Demon’s attention, and with a little effort he concentrated on the mind contact he had felt, realizing it as one of his Soul Seekers reporting in. The words formed in his mind, as clear as if the Faceless one had been before him, though rage soon had him boiling with rage. He tore free from the mind link, probably killing the unwary Soul Seeker, but anger seethed within him, and if he had not been alone in the chamber, he soon would have. Fire and lightning scorched the walls and shook the great cavern as he vented rage, while his whip came to hand and he flailed about, lashing the walls and floor. The impulse to seek some of his own kind to feast upon he quelled with surprising self  control, for although angry, Hammagor knew he could not afford any losses at this stage of his plans.

After his anger subsided and he returned to his throne, mindless of the scorched walls and rent walls where his whip had struck, he contemplated this new change of events. That the Elves knew of their presence now was undoubted, which meant others would know within a matter of days, maybe less if the Elves had rediscovered magical means of communication. He could not prevent such an outcome, but he could make sure the Elves paid dearly for their discovery.

His grim smile would have sent even the bravest of his companions fleeing with the hunger it held. How he had longed to wipe out the Elves since his re-appearance on this world, but practicality had dictated otherwise. Now, he doubted even his master, Sett, would frown upon such retribution upon the miserable Elvin people.

He smiled even more as he felt another tugging of a mind link, and considered repeating the backlash that killed the last bearer of ill tidings. Instead, he joined the link.

“
I come!” Those were his only words before breaking off the contact, this time with less force. No doubt the Soul Seeker would be bemused, but Hammagor would settle things when he reached the Elvin forest. First he would have to let his generals know he was leaving and make sure they continued with his plans while he was gone, but after only a short time, he was soaring northward, riding magical energies created through dark arts, high and fast beyond any visual limits, the eager anticipation of Elvin flesh fuelling his hunger. Already he knew he was stronger than all of the other greater Demons who had opted to remain behind, not risking the dangerous crossing through the still  forming Portals, and Elf blood was always much better than that of humans. Perhaps if his plans came to fruition, he could replace his master as the second most powerful member of demon kind.

Hagar paced outside the hall, anger barely held in check at the temerity of these people who once again kept him from their council, he who would one day be Lord of the Seven Bastions, Imperial Commander of Dak’mar. How he seethed, wondering what plans were being made without him, and what he could do about it.

Nothing?
It was simple truth, for despite his powers and his associates, these Ashar’an left no doubt as to who was in charge. It did not help matters that Myrtti was a long  time associate of these people and was reluctant to let Hagar know even a fraction of what happened in those meetings where he was not admitted.

Yet it did not take his presence for Hagar to piece together what he thought was happening behind his back. He knew these Ashar’an were few in number, though they represented some force that threatened to some day take over the Realms, and it was in everybody’s best interest to join with them or be crushed. As to who or what this force was, or from where they came, Hagar could not even begin to speculate. Elves and Dwarves had lived their peaceful lives without such desires for takeover for many generations, while even the Sable Elves and the Barbarians of the North were so few in number that any thoughts of wiping out the armies of the Realms were ridiculous.

He suspected this force was from another continent, across the Ardaeth Ocean or from beyond the Great Eastern Desert. He dismissed fully the vague rumor that the force was Demonic creatures in league with the Ashar’an.

If his mood was not the best this day, it was in part because he had spotted the Princess earlier, once again sojourning to the library where she seemed to find some solace. More marks on her smooth skin indicated the Ashar’an torturers were still trying to draw information from her. The first time Hagar had noticed these, he had demanded an audience with the Lady Lotecia, who had firmly reminded him he was a guest in her house, and that the Princess was promised to him only once she was no longer needed.

The second time, Hagar had found two Ashar’an escorting a tired and bruised Princess back from the chambers where the sessions were held.

Anger built through being looked upon as inferior to these Ashar’an, plus the shame of the first rebuttal, saw him drawing his weapon.

“
What have you done to her?”

The two Ashar’an, tall and athletically built men with stern, expressionless faces, regarded Hagar as they would a wild dog, unconcerned by his bravado but cautious of the potential threat. They knew of this man’s reputation, and although they themselves were killers of the highest order, they were wary.

“
Only what has been ordered of us, Kiroba.” The scornful reply came with a sneer as both let Kitara loose, her balance lost momentarily as her half  dazed consciousness tried to adapt to the freedom. Hagar reached to her for support, but even in her dazed state she threw off his hand with a muffled growl, or at least that is what Hagar took it to be, though he was too busy staring challengingly at the two Ashar’an. As leader of the Kiroba in Dak’mar, he was used to confrontation and stand off tactics, yet despite his knowledge and experience, he felt the two were no more put off by his dangerous attitude than the Elf back in Thorhus had been.

Wondering if he had lost the knack, or whether he had been just trying it on the wrong people, he knew he would have to count his losses and call this one quits. The Princess offered him the opportunity to withdraw as she started to move away, grumbling that she could find her way if they were too busy trying to compare something or another. He was not sure what it was she said, but he was at her side in a flash, his sword returning to its sheath.

“
You shouldn’t be walking these halls alone in your state, my precious.” The look he gave over his shoulder to the Ashar’an spoke of future meetings where the outcome would not be so uneventful, but he knew these two had won this round. Both offered him thin smiles, knowing what he knew, and they seemed unconcerned about any future meetings.

Echoing footsteps turned Hagar’s attention to the present, and he turned to see the rat  faced Commander of the guards, Kandar, striding intently down the expansive corridor. Hagar was not surprised the little soldier seemed displeased, because like him, he was not permitted to attend meetings such as these. Still, the rat  faced Commander seemed to know more about the goings  on inside the hall than Hagar did, which meant somebody must be feeding him the information. Though concerned about the possible leaking of information and the inherent danger it could bring, Hagar was more determined to use the Commander for his own purposes.

“
Are they not yet concluded?”

After nodding greeting to the blunt man, Hagar shook his head with a frown. “No. Whatever it is they discuss, they seem not to be in a hurry.”

Kandar grimaced also, though Hagar knew it was partly for show, because invariably the little man would find out something about what was being discussed. He suspected Kandar was part of the local spy network, which would explain why he held such a high  ranking position within the militia. If such was the case, Hagar could not figure out whom it was the Commander was spying for. His position with Lotecia saw that in return for wealth and future standing, the authorities overlooked the increase of action on behalf of the Ashar’an.

“
What do you think they discuss?”

At the question, Kandar shifted his brooding gaze from the door to Hagar, who looked away quickly so as not to let the spy  commander see how intently he had been regarding him.

“
How should I know? You know I am not allowed into these meetings any more than you are.” Kandar’s face was guarded, and he eyed Hagar unblinkingly. There was a guarded bond between the two because of their similar circumstances, plus both knew the other was of considerable importance and worth, though trust friendship were words neither knew. “Why do you ask?”

Hagar gave a non committal shrug, as if the question had been of no consequence. “I just thought you might have known something, that is all.”

He expected Kandar to stiffly refute any such knowledge, especially with the hint of insinuation Hagar had placed on ‘known’, but the spy merely shook his head.

“
Me? I suspect they plan to shift the Princess to some other location.” If anything, Hagar expected Kandar was a Spy for the Duke, and if this were the case, he would surely be concerned for the welfare of the Daughter of the King. He eyed the spy askance as he spoke, but saw no signs of shock or interest on the man’s angular face.

“
Why do you say this?”

Hagar shrugged again, but continued quickly. “For the Ashar’an to have need of the Princess, they must have some fear of her father, else why would they kidnap her?”

“
Maybe they need her for something else?”

Surprised by Kandar’s offering, Hagar nonetheless gave another shrug, though his mind turned over several possibilities for Kandar’s response. What other need would these Ashar’an have for the Princess? “They could not hope to gain anything by having her killed.”

To this, Kandar shrugged. “Who knows what they think?” Yet for Hagar, responding to this was almost admitting knowledge, unless the spy was craftier than Hagar assumed. Whatever was being planned for the Princess, he knew then that it did not coincide with his own plans, something that he was determined to change. He had all but been assured the Princess was his, and would not let the Ashar’an witch Lotecia spoil his plans.

Not having to feign anger at the wait, Hagar excused himself amid frustrated cursing, returning quickly to his chambers, not even bothering to see how many Ashar’an were assigned to his tail this time. He took from this the hope there must have been some fear from them that he could do something detrimental to their plans. With this hope in mind, he began to formulate a new plan as he moved to the small chest at the foot of his bed.

The chest was locked and trapped with a poisoned needle plus a gas  lined seal that would be broken through forced opening. Neither was deadly, rather incapacitating the victim, but for such a time that Hagar would return to find them thus, and therefore easily manipulated as only he could.