Demon Lord IV - Lord of Shadows (7 page)

Bane pointed
at the distant mages, who were unaware of the threat, and lacked
shields. Twin bolts of shadow spat from his fingers and arced
across the muddy field, striking the warlocks. One leapt into the
air with a piercing shriek, then exploded in a red haze of blood
and guts. The other fell writhing, his skin blackening as his hair
burst into flames. The demons had no time to flee, Bane unleashed
four more bolts in quick succession, snuffing them out in flashes
of foul fire.

Bane lowered
his arms and gazed down at the dark army, whose members had stopped
hurling themselves at the mud wall. Many glowing red eyes turned to
him, and a high, terrified keening came from some of them. The
soldiers continued to hack and stab at them, oblivious to the fact
that their foe no longer fought back. The tide turned, and the army
surged away from the trench, seeking to flee the dark god who had
appeared amongst their enemy.

Bane opened
his hands, revelling in his power, which exulted at the death that
he was dealing out even if it was against its own kind. He raised
his arms, and black fire poured from him, flashing past the
soldiers to engulf the dark creatures. They screamed as it consumed
them, exploding in gory splatters of blood and guts or collapsing
to writhe before they became still.

Like wheat
before a scythe, they fell in a spreading circle all around the
encampment as the fire overtook them. The shadows lapped at the
dead forests beyond the fields, and a few dark creatures escaped
into them. Bane let the fire die there, allowing the remainder to
flow away into the ground as he leashed it into his bones.

The soldiers
stared dumbstruck at their fallen foes, their dirty faces stretched
in expressions of amazement and disbelief. A few turned towards
Bane, then a voice behind him shouted, "Black mage!"

Bane started
to glance around, and the girl shrieked, "No!"

A rock struck
him on the temple, and darkness slammed down.

Kayos leapt
out of his chair. "No!"

Mirra gasped
and cried, "Bane!"

Within the
Eye, Bane crumpled, his cloak flaring like dark wings trying
futilely to hold him up. His knees hit the rock, then he slid
sideways, landing beside it in an awkward tangle of arms and legs.
Kayos gripped the edge of the Eye, willing Bane to sit up and show
himself to be unharmed.

The blow had
been hard. The force of it had jerked Bane's head back, and Kayos'
heart filled with dread. As he lay motionless, a group of ragged
people gathered around him. Kayos' dread redoubled, but they
appeared to be protecting the fallen dark god, and his immediate
concern diminished. The Grey God gripped his hair and tugged it, a
fierce scowl furrowing his brow.

"Foolish
mortals! He was helping you!" He swung away, paced in a circle,
then faced the Eye again.

Mirra's hands
were clamped over her mouth, her wide eyes full of horror. Mithran
stood behind her, gripping her shoulders as he frowned at the scene
within the Eye. Grem swung away, rubbing his brow.

"My Lord, help
him!" Mirra cried, stretching forth her hands in a gesture of
pleading.

Kayos shook
his head. "I cannot."

His first
instinct was to rush to Bane's aid, but the Demon Lord's use of
power would have already drawn Vorkon's attention to the area.

"Why not?" she
demanded.

Kayos stared
into the Eye. Bane was in grave danger, and it was too late to go
there and block Vorkon's Eye. He would know the location and come
to investigate, which would put Kayos in danger too.

"Vorkon will
come after me if I do."

"You cannot
leave him there! Vorkon will kill him!"

"I know. Let
me think, child."

Kayos ran a
hand through his hair. Everything had been going so well. He had
begun to hope that their plan might succeed without a hitch, but
this was a very big one. Bane looked badly injured. What if he
died? Vorkon would destroy his soul, and Kayos would be trapped in
this dying domain. All because of an idiot with a rock. A fool with
a stone might have decided the fate of this domain. It seemed too
stupid to be possible. How could fate be so cruel? He paced around
again, pondering the problem. He had to save Bane, but without
being captured himself. If Bane died the future was gloomy indeed
for everyone. Mirra watched him, biting her lips, her eyes filled
with anguish.

Shevra
crouched over Bane like a tigress protecting her cub, glaring at
the soldiers who had gathered beyond the ragged group that had come
at her call. They were reluctant to get close to a dark god, but
knew that he was the one who had just saved them. The soldiers
seemed to think that he was a black mage, and shouted at the people
who protected him. An officer pushed his way to the front of the
mob.

"What's going
on here?" he demanded.

"He's not a
black mage!" Shevra bellowed. "He saved us! Who do you think killed
the foul creatures? He did!"

"Then he must
be a black mage!" a soldier yelled.

"No! He's not!
He's a dark... god." Shevra's voice softened and trailed off on the
last words as she realised that a dark god was far worse than a
black mage by anyone's standards.

"A what?" The
officer frowned at her.

"Please help
him. Don't let them hurt him."

The officer
studied Bane, whose pale, impossibly fine skin was unmarred by
dirt. Just the fact that he was clean told the soldier that Bane
was either some sort of magician, or he had not been there long. He
met the girl's pleading eyes again and shrugged.

"Well someone
killed the scum, and if it was him, he must be a friend." He turned
to the men. "Back to your posts, all of you."

The soldiers
grumbled, but moved off, and Shevra looked down at the man who had
saved them. A red mark marred his temple just below his glossy
hair, and blood ran across his brow from a cut. He had come to her
aid again, in answer to her prayer, and been struck down. She
frowned. How could a dark god be struck down so easily, by a mere
stone, albeit a big one? That question was for another time,
however, right now he needed her help. She looked up at the ragged
crowd of refugees.

"Is there a
healer amongst you?" They shook their heads, and Shevra's heart
sank. She took hold of Bane's arm. "Help me get him to a tent."

Four men
lifted Bane out of the ash and carried him, shuffling and slipping,
to one of the canvas tents that the soldiers were erecting, laying
him on the rickety cot. Shevra knelt beside him, and someone
brought a bowl of water and a rag, which she used to clean the cut
on his temple. It seemed a trifling wound, but a swelling was
forming under it. A wizened crone shuffled in with a bag and
approached to examine Bane, shaking her head and sucking her
toothless gums.

"Eh, a bad un,
that," she muttered, using a dirty, claw-like hand to pry open one
of his eyes.

"Are you a
healer?" Shevra asked.

"Nay, a
medicine woman is all, but better'n nothin'. Still, ain't nothin'
to be done for 'im. Either he wakes, or he don't."

"He can't die,
he's a god."

The crone
shook her head. "Mortal, he is. Only mortals bleed."

"A mortal god,
yes."

"Then 'e can
die. But he don't look like no god I ever saw before."

"How many have
you seen?"

The old
medicine woman smiled. "None. But I 'eard plenty of stories, mark
my words."

"Fictional
ones," Shevra muttered.

The crone
cupped a hand to her ear. "Eh?"

"Thank
you."

"Twas nothing,
lass."

The medicine
woman shuffled out, mumbling, and Shevra turned to gaze at Bane,
laying a hand on his brow. She noticed that the blood that had
clotted in his hair had vanished, which intrigued her.
Experimentally she smeared a little ash on his cheek, and her eyes
widened as it slowly vanished.

"Syrin!"

Kayos turned
as the angel stepped from the air, his hair dishevelled by his
tugging at it. Her eyes widened at the sight of him.

"What ails
you, My Lord?"

"Bane has been
struck down."

"How?"

Kayos
gestured. "A stone, thrown at him. He had no shields. Where were
you?"

"Resting. You
require my help?" A sly smile curled her lips.

"He does. Do
not taunt me, Syrin."

"Why do you
not heal him?"

"I intend to,
but I must Move him here first. Vorkon will have sensed Bane's use
of his power, and will have cast his Eye there. If he saw Bane
struck down, he will go there at once to slay him, and when he
finds him gone, he will vent his rage upon those people Bane just
saved. I need you to go there and warn them, tell them to
flee."

"A messenger?"
Her expression brightened.

"Yes. A
warning. You will save them."

"A messenger
of the great god Kayos, one of the Seven, Creator -"

"Just tell
them to flee. There is no time for flowery oratories."

She pouted. "I
like flowery oratories."

"And while you
are listing my titles, Vorkon will rise and kill Bane."

"He may do so
while you argue with me, too."

"Then go!"

Her lower lip
protruded, childlike. "There is no need to shout."

"At times like
these, Syrin, I wish I could hurt you."

The angel
gasped, then turned and stepped into the air, leaving him wondering
if she was going to obey. Mirra sat on the bed, Mithran beside her
with his arm around her shoulders, staring at Bane's peaceful face
in the Eye as tears ran down her cheeks.

Chapter Four

Havoc

Shevra looked
up as the officer she had spoken to earlier entered the tent. A
slender, youthful soldier with a kindly face and short brown hair
followed him, carrying a bag.

"This is our
doctor," the officer said, "though we have many wounded."

She forced a
wan smile. "Thank you."

The officer
left, and the soldier approached the bed, sitting on the edge of it
and opening his bag. His hazel eyes raked Bane as he dug in it.

"So you
believe he is a god?"

"He is."

The doctor
smiled. "He looks like a man to me."

"That's
because you have no eyes to see with."

He chuckled.
"He might be a renegade black mage, I suppose."

"No."

"Well, let's
see if this god of yours has a decent pulse."

The doctor
drew out an odd instrument made of tubes and plugged it into his
ears, leaning forward to unbutton Bane's shirt and pull it open. He
recoiled with a curse.

"Goddess."

Shevra also
drew back, staring at the scars on Bane's chest, then she leant
forward to study them. "Runes of power." Her fingers traced one.
"And protection. This one..." she hesitated. "For control, I think.
Another for power."

The doctor
frowned. "They look like old burns, but they are not properly
healed."

Shevra nodded.
"The fire comes from within him."

The doctor
snorted and leant forward, pressing the metal end of the tube to
Bane's chest. "Good strong heart beat."

Removing the
instrument from his ears, he placed his hands on the edges of the
swelling on Bane's temple, pressing. "A depressed skull
fracture."

"Which
means?"

"He probably
has bleeding on the brain, and swelling. Chances are he will
die."

"You can't
save him?"

He shook his
head. "He needs an operation, but it's beyond me. Give him this, if
you can." He handed her a packet of powder. "Mix it with water. It
will help to stop the swelling."

"Thank
you."

The doctor
closed his bag and rose, then paused in the doorway to glance back
at her. "If he was a god, he would heal himself."

"Perhaps he
will."

"I hope so.
Too many have died here today."

Shevra watched
him leave, then hunted for a cup and filled it with water, emptying
the powder into it. As she stirred it, a commotion outside drew her
attention as voices rose in a babble of confusion and wonder.
Curious, she rose and went to the flap to see what was going on,
stopping just outside the tent. She gasped, almost dropping the cup
as she followed the crowd's pointing fingers and spied the reason
for their awed babble.

A glowing
figure hung in the air some ten feet above the ground, the slow
beat of enormous, snow white wings supporting it. The description
of legends ensured that there was no mistaking what the apparition
was, and Shevra stared at it, awestruck. Some of the crowd had
fallen to their knees, and their cries died away as the angel
lifted her hands. She spoke in a musical, fluting voice.

"Be not
afraid. I bring you a warning, a message from the great god Kayos.
A dark god is amongst you, who saved you, and was hurt. Vorkon
seeks him, and Kayos will save him. Flee this place now, hide
yourselves well. Be not here when Vorkon rises, for he will slay
you. Flee!"

The angel
vanished, and after a moment of stunned silence, the people began
to babble again in excitement and fear, turning to each other to
share their wonder. Shevra glanced at the doctor, who stood a few
paces from the tent. He looked at her, his expression dumbfounded.
She flung him a triumphant smile and ducked back into the tent.
Moments later he entered it, hurrying to the cot to stare down at
Bane.

"Him? She was
talking about him?"

"Of course,"
Shevra said.

"But he is
just a human being."

"A mortal
god."

"That is not
possible."

She lifted
Bane's head and trickled the medicine between his lips, but most of
it ran out again. The doctor ran a hand through his hair.