Darkness Weaves (16 page)

"Come here," Cassi invited thickly.

The guardsman interjected, "Milord, our orders are to--"

"To hell with your orders, fool!" Cassi sneered. "My friend, Netisten Maril, sends me evidence of his favor. Now, go!"

She laughed as they closed the door. "What is your pleasure, milord?" She stepped away from her pile of silks, and danced toward him like some fantastic butterfly.

"We'll think of something, you and I," Cassi grinned, making way for her on the bed.

She was accomplished, Cassi had to admit. After a while, he lifted her up and rolled astride her. "Maril shows his gratitude in a fine style," he gasped between kisses. "Ahhh... Watch your nails, bitch! My back is sunburned, and salted as a sailor's... Ahh..."

Her breath came in sudden gasps as her nails dug into the flesh of his back. "Do they not call this ecstasy the little death?" she panted, biting at his ear.

Cassi felt his orgasm shudder through him. He was still dizzy and shaken, wondering at her words, when the venom encrusted beneath her raking nails fired his veins with final agony.

She licked the froth from his dead lips, and winked as she sauntered past the guards.

The night skies were pale with the approach of dawn. Two figures stood side by side on a tower before the harbor gate of Thovnosten, watching the stars go out. Lages stood straight and proud as if the months of imprisonment had been but a bad dream, forgotten now. The youth was resplendent in his silvered mail, crested helmet, and scarlet cloak of an Imperial general. M'Cori stood beneath the shelter of his arm, silent as the first light of dawn high lighted the cascade of fine blond hair that spilled over her shoulders. Caught at her delicate throat by an emerald pin, a splendid cloak of white ermine held back the cold sea breeze. The wind fluttered her gown against her slender form, whipped strands of hair across her patrician features. She was fragile and beautiful as some exquisite porcelain goddess--pale and golden with eyes green as the sea below them.

"It's dawn," said Lages simply.

"Dawn. And now you must sail." M'Cori stared down at the fleet tossing at anchor below them. She counted slowly, the syllables falling softly under each breath. "Only twenty-four ships. So few to meet the witch's traitor fleet."

"These are all the warships we can have at battle-ready on such short notice. In a month we could have another hundred, but in a month Efrel will have mobilized her forces, too. It's best we attack now, while her preparations are incomplete. And don't forget--our vessels are every one of them first-class warships, well armed and manned by trained soldiers. We'll only be facing a mob of undisciplined renegades. It's a pity that Cassi didn't get the chance to tell us all he knew. From what he indicated, their fleet probably consists of a handful of real warships and a motley scattering of jury-rigged merchants and barges converted to haul troops and supplies. We'll sweep them from the seas."

She seemed to disregard his confidence. "I'm losing you again, dearest--again, after all those weeks in prison. Lages, I lied--at times I was sure Father meant to kill you. He would have eventually, if he hadn't needed you to fight Efrel.

"Now you're free. Free--only to leave me again, after but a few days of happiness together. I almost wish you had remained in that cell. You were safe there, and I could visit you whenever I wished."

Lages turned on her. "Like a pet bird in a cage! Something to bring sweets and flowers to! A man prefers death to an existence such as that!"

He caught himself. He hadn't meant to snap at her like that. Horment! She was only concerned with his safety. Her baffling system of illogic at times was infuriating. He started to apologize--but, feeling awkward, said nothing. Instead he looked at the skies and knew he had to leave.

"I love you, M'Cori," he whispered.

She threw her white arms around his mailed shoulders and clung to him desperately. After a moment he gently loosened their embrace. Feeling a keen desire to possess her--and at the same instant a longing to be free of her--Lages marched down the steps from the tower and to the harbor.

Through her tears, M'Cori watched the fleet sail out.

Cut deep into the basalt beneath Dan-Legeh lay the secret chamber of Efrel. Few were those who came here willingly, and fewer those who left again. In this darkened vault--a great hollow of cunningly hewn stone, where the flickering cressets cast the brightest light that ever would shine here--Efrel engaged in her sorceries and experiments in the black arts. For ages past, the chamber had been put to this accursed usage by the Pellin lords, and the expansive room was filled with debris of evil enterprises centuries forgotten.

The chamber was a vast, shadowy cavern, and great oil lamps--most of them unlit for centuries--were positioned at frequent intervals to give illumination. The lamps stood on tripods half the height of a man, and many gallons of oil filled their tanks to feed the lambent flames. The center of the chamber was taken up with a wide pool of inky water--a black mirror-like surface encircled by a low wall with curious carvings in bas-relief. About the pool stood a number of man-sized statues of some obscenely tentacled sea demon. A visitor might wonder if this were not the fane of some forgotten devil cult, whose acolytes were now dust with their gods. The pool gave back the torchlight like polished jet, and no conception of its depth could be realized from peering within. It must be very deep, for its level rose and fell with the tides--indicating communication with the sea.

Around this circular pool were arranged the apparatus and paraphernalia of Efrel's supernatural delvings--strangely bound tomes of forbidden knowledge, weirdly shaped alembics and retorts and other alchemical devices, caskets and vials filled with powders and elixirs and preserved objects of dubious origins, eldritch carvings on the floor and walls. The stained and freshly oiled instruments of torture were the least abhorrent objects within the chamber.

Efrel was not alone in this place. Before her, imprisoned within the borders of a meticulously ordered pentagram, reared the serpentine coils of her familiar demon--a creature of hideous malevolence summoned by Efrel from another plane of existence. The demon was no stranger to Efrel or to this chamber. The sorceress was wont to evoke her monstrous pet in order to gain certain knowledge that no human resource could supply. For this purpose she had summoned her creature once again.

The pentagram defied its wrathful efforts to break free. Disappointed, the demon abandoned the attempt. Glaring at the triumphant sorceress, it spoke in its harsh, whispering tones "I see that you have succeeded in bringing Kane to your side. To be sure, he seems to be most energetic in his services to you. How does your new lover suit you?"

Efrel smiled at the demon's leering snicker. "I am completely satisfied with your recommendation. Kane is exactly the man I needed for this venture. He has given me invaluable lessons in treachery, introduced new strategy and tactics for my navy, organized all aspects of my rebellion with an incomparable ability."

She paused, then went on to the reason for this evocation. "Kane seems to me more than human, somehow. Kane is a unique combination--a man of incredible strength, ruthless daring, intellectual genius, and evil to the core. There's something utterly inhuman about his eyes--they are the mark of a killer, or my every instinct lies! Yes, I can make good use of Kane. A deadly weapon, to be sure--and as treacherous as he is dangerous. I will use Kane, but I won't trust him an inch!"
The demon laughed mockingly. "I see--like recognizes like. Can you be certain, though, that you can control him? I wonder."

Efrel snarled in anger. "I can handle Kane! He's but a man--for all his black heart and long life. The fool has an inkling of but a fraction of my powers, while I know Kane for what he is. Kane can withhold no mysteries from Efrel!

"But this is why I have summoned you. Thus far you have told me very little of Kane. Only that Red Kane the pirate lord still lived, that he was the one man who could gain victory for me, that he could be found on the Lartroxian coast. Tonight I intend to devote this entire evocation to learning everything about Kane. Tell me now, who--or what--is Kane? What has he done during these decades since he terrorized the Empire? Who was he before he appeared in our realm to lead his pirate horde on their reign of carnage? And how has he escaped death for these two centuries?"

Again the demon laughed. "There are many things you may not know of Kane. Even in my world there are mysteries concerned with Kane that have escaped our wisdom. Even to, tell you what we know of him would require far more time than your evocation can hold me here. But while your spell lasts, I shall tell you a little of the man you have called forth from the past.

"I obey your command. Behold now, as I show to you but a few tableaux of past moments in Kane's fantastic history."

The outlines of the underground chamber suddenly began to fade. The massive lamps, the grotesque statues, the circular pool, the instruments of torture, the sorcerous paraphernalia--all grew indistinct before her eyes, dissolved into blackness. Efrel seemed to stand vertiginously in the midst of infinite oblivion, with only the sardonic demon visible in the cosmic darkness.

Then light began to form out of the chaos. Wavering images began to take shape before her, tumbling kaleidoscopic patterns of time. Flashing in front of her eyes now were frozen instants of the past--brief glimpses of Kane's past life, wrested from eternity by the demon's supernatural powers and projected onto her consciousness.

Efrel saw Kane running through a ruined city, a slim girl dashing at his side. Behind them thundered a dozen vicious-looking bandits--triumph on their cruel faces as they urged their mounts after the fugitives. The city's towers were broken and toppled, its buildings gutted and fire-scarred. Horizons were strangely foreshortened, as if the city were built upon a pinnacle above a plain. The rubble-choked streets gave Kane a short lead over the riders--and as he momentarily escaped their sight, he leaped through a darkened doorway, pulling the girl after him.

Kane lay naked across a mouldering bed, in a room where moonlight spilled through a window curtained with dusty cobwebs. Beyond the window stretched the crumbling parapets of a fortress that had slumbered in ruin for decades. A deserted village could dimly be seen in the valley below. Kane seemed to give no notice to the decay rampant about him as he lay there, weakly, in a dream. Stepping else to, him in the musty chamber was a pale-skinned woman, her porcelain figure veiled with rotting silk. The moonlight shone white upon her long fangs as she smiled at the man who awaited her.

A gore-spattered Kane reeled, locked in combat with a towering demon of twice his bulk. Doll-sized imps scampered about the thrashing legs of the combatants-stabbing at Kane with tiny razor-edged spears: Several of the imps lay crushed and sundered upon the red earth. Behind them, a naked girl stood bound to a rock, watching the battle in terror. Desolate mountains and black stones ringed the figures, and from the cliff beside them yawned a black cave that seemed to drop off straight into the bowels of the earth. Kane's sword was broken, and he slashed desperately with the jagged forte--holding away the demon's jaws with his free arm.

Kane slipped stealthily along empty streets in a city where no window showed a light against the darkness. There were no signs of destruction, but the buildings stood as if deserted for several years. Here and there the moonlight disclosed a scattering of dry bones. Torches followed behind Kane as half a dozen grim-faced men stalked him through the dead city.

The night exploded into a chaos of bloodshed and flame. Kane strode through the pillaged streets of a city, sword red in his fist-laughing mightily as his pirate horde rioted all about him. Barbaric figures smashed down doors of humus, slaying all who confronted them. Howling warriors raced through the sheets, loaded down with riches and plunder. Woman and children were being cut down alongside their men, as the younger girls were carried off, bare-limbed and screaming, into the darkness. Kane seized a wine bottle from a passing looter and poured its contents over his blood-flecked smile.

Kane ran up a long flight of gain, pursued by a slavering white-furred creature, half man and half wolf. Below them lay a castle hall--its tables overturned and its floors crimson with blood. Strewn about were the tom and broken bodies of scores of men and grey wolves. At the top of the stairway, Kane suddenly turned to hurl himself upon the hulking werewolf. Locked in a bone-crushing embrace, man and were-beast hurtled back down the stairs, bounding through the railing near the bottom and crashing to the hall floor. The stunning impact threw them apart. Kane shook the pain from his head groggily as the werewolf champed its reddened fangs and lunged for him.

Stars shone down upon a tower jutting far into the nighted sky. Wearing robes of a fantastic pattern, Kane hunched in concentration over a table strewn with strange volumes and scrolls of rust-red writing. He was muttering to himself while he worked over pages of diagrams and calculations. Often he referred to the dark tomes of necromantic lore that lay before him. An intricate system of pentagrams and occult glyphics covered much of the tower walls, while a terrified girl wept in chains in one corner.

Kane sat upon an immense throne of obsidian; on his head was a crown of unfaceted jewels. A snarling lion lay at his feet, causing the courtiers who stood beside his throne to keep their distance. Their manner of dress was unfamiliar, nor was the race immediately recognizable. Kane's face was twisted with anger, and his lips formed strange syllables as he made some decree to those assembled before his throne. Consternation shuddered through their ranks at his words--but they slunk away when he leaped up in fury and brandished his scepter as if it were a mace.

Shambling man-sized creatures, who looked like monstrous hybrids of man and frog, stood watching Kane in the shattered chamber of some colossal prehuman structure. Great bronze swords were clutched in webbed fists as they waited in the shadows of the cracked and leaning walls. Slimy water covered much of the floor, and fleshy vines stole through jagged apertures to enshroud looming machines of unguessable nature. A gigantic crystal filled the center of the chamber--a sullen dome nearly a hundred yards across, composed of a substance that resembled bloodstone. The scarlet veins of the crystal suddenly seemed to glow with life. Blinding flashes of coruscant energy burst from long-slumbering pillars of machinery, driving the amphibian creatures back in fear. An eerie light of green, veined with red, shot forth from the depths of the awakened crystal and bathed Kane in its fire.