Demon Lord V - God Realm (21 page)

The white fire
only attacked the darkness. Bane rolled aside as Morvanor tried to
thrust the rapier through his heart, but he lacked the strength to
rise to his feet. Numbness stole through him as his remaining
energy dwindled swiftly. Summoning his flagging willpower, he took
hold of the dark fire within him and hurled it out in an unfocussed
outpouring that exploded from him in a wall of shadow. The fury of
the blast hurled Morvanor away with a choked scream. Bane forced
the last dregs from his flesh, his sight leaving with it. The white
flames winked out, and he flopped onto his back, gasping.

Morvanor's
dark red soul light loomed over Bane. He rolled away, struggling to
rise to his feet. Weakness kept him on his knees as Morvanor
attacked again, the rapier hissing through the air. Bane jerked up
his head, sending Morvanor flying backwards to land with a grunt
several feet away. Bane became aware of a shining soul close to the
ground a short distance from him, and at the same moment, Morvanor
gave a cry of anguish.

Bane rose to
his feet, staggering sideways as a wave of dizziness washed over
him. Evidently the blast of black fire he had unleashed had injured
Frendar. He turned to face the two soul lights, one dull red, the
other shining white, so close together that they almost touched.
Bane summoned the shadows, drawing in just enough to restore his
far-see. Morvanor held the child god in his arms, blue fire blazing
where they touched. The little boy gazed up at his brother with
dazed eyes, gasping. Bane walked closer, and Morvanor looked up at
him, his face twisted with anguish.

"Help
him!"

Bane shook his
head. "I cannot. You told him to attack me, did you not? How could
you pit a child against me? Are you a complete fool?"

"You're
mortal! You should have died!"

"But I did
not. I did not intend to harm him. If he dies, it is on your
conscience, not mine."

Morvanor
stroked his brother's cherubic face, gazing down at him with
despairing eyes. Although he was a weak dark god, or perhaps
because of it, he had sufficient willpower to love his brother
against the wishes of the dark power, a significant achievement.
Bane turned his attention to the demons that strode about the town,
seeking the people who hid in the houses and fled their approach.
The earth demons smashed the structures, rendering them useless for
future refuge, and crushed the fleeing occupants. Fire demons
turned people to ash with white-hot eyes, stalking between the huts
to pick off any who emerged. Bane did not think that many had
survived, but he walked towards the demons, intent on saving the
few that he could. As soon as he was close enough, he raised his
hand and made a sweeping gesture.

"Begone!"

Most of the
earth demons sank down into piles of foul soil, and many of the
fire demons vanished with inrushes of air. The few that remained,
he banished with a second command. The people stumbled to a halt
and stared around in amazement and relief, some spied Bane and
gaped at him. Others emerged from the ramshackle huts, looking
dazed and frightened. Bane gestured at the darkness beyond the
town.

"Go."

They stumbled
towards the road, exhausted by their ordeal but eager to leave the
town. As they shambled past him, a young woman ran to him and tried
to throw her arms around him in a frenzy of gratitude. Bane reacted
instinctively, his reflex an unfortunate result of his previous
ordeals and the distrust they had engendered, mixed with the dark
power's influence. Before she touched him, he jerked up his chin
and hurled her backwards to land with a soft cry of pain on the
stony ground. A few others helped her up, and she appeared to be
unharmed, but she cast Bane a look of confusion and hurt.

Bane turned to
Morvanor and his brother, who remained where he had left them. If
Frendar died, he would expect Morvanor to hunt him down and seek
revenge, even if it cost him his existence. He hoped that the child
god would survive. The power he had unleashed had been unfocussed,
but it appeared that Frendar had not possessed shields. The boy was
too young to learn how to use his power properly, and it was quite
surprising that he had lived this long, even with Morvanor's help.
They were pitiful examples of lesser gods, foolish and ignorant. He
turned and followed the people out of the town.

By the time
Bane caught up with the others, they had left the light of the fire
pillars behind and were camped in a dark, rocky gorge, waiting for
him. On his way to their camp he passed through a group of
newcomers who had escaped before the demons had attacked, about
twenty of them. With the fifty he had saved, he now had another
seventy people in his charge, and he wondered how he was going to
protect them. Even if he kept his power, it would be
impossible.

All he could
do was try to find a light domain and hope that they would gain
entry. The dark power mocked his concern for them, urging him to
leave them to wander in the dark until they perished, or obliterate
them. In his weakened state, he was far more vulnerable to its
influence, and found his anger rising at the unwanted
responsibility they represented. When he limped into the light of
the fire his group had built, Mithran rose and approached him with
a smile of relief, clasping his shoulder.

"Are you all
right?"

"Fine." Bane
sat down beside the fire, his ankle throbbing.

"Morvanor
didn't challenge you?"

"He lost."

Artan leant
forward. "Kimi has told the people what you are, and they're
afraid. I explained that you're not bad, but she didn't understand.
She thinks we're under a geas."

Bane rubbed
his brow, weariness settling upon him like a lead cloak. The wound
in his side throbbed and his head ached. The dark power mocked his
weakness, urging him to rid himself of these pathetic people who
tried his patience with their stupid concerns. It sickened him, and
he struggled against its malicious whispering. His bile rose, and
he rose to stumble away on aching legs. Sarrin jumped up and ran
after him.

"Lord, what is
wrong?"

"Leave me," he
snarled, and she retreated. Sinking down on the rocks, he spread
his hands and cast out the dark power. He hated its venomous urging
and evil influence, which tainted his thoughts with unwelcome
anger. The after effects of his ordeal in the shackles were even
worse than he had feared, and he could stomach its presence no
longer. While he was alone it did not trouble him much, but when he
was in the company of people their questions and concerns goaded
it, and it infected him with its rage. As the last dregs left him,
he shivered, chilled by its absence and much weaker without it. His
sight faded, and he drew his cloak around him, his head spinning as
his strength drained away.

Sarrin gazed
into the darkness where Bane had gone, filled with concern. Mithran
looked grim, Grem frowned as he concentrated on honing his sword,
and Artan stared into the fire, his expression shuttered. The
silence hung thick around them, only the snap of the fire breaking
it. Sarrin could bear it no more and rose to her feet.

"Something is
wrong. I am going to find him."

Artan looked
up. "He wanted to be alone."

"He is ill. He
might need our help."

Mithran rose
and pulled a faggot from the fire. "Then I'm coming with you."

Sarrin found
Bane where she had left him, huddled in his cloak, his face pale
and drawn in the flickering light of Mithran's torch. She touched
his shoulder, and he turned his head. A slight, rueful smile curled
his lips. "I cannot walk."

Sarrin took
the torch from Mithran, and he helped Bane to his feet, supporting
him as they stumbled through the rocks back to the camp. There he
sank down with a sigh, holding his hands out to the fire. Sarrin
sat beside him and gazed at him with deep concern.

"What
happened?"

"I might have
killed Frendar."

Sarrin's heart
sank. "You are uncertain?"

"He looked
quite ill when I left, but he was still alive. I did not mean to
harm him, but he tried to kill me." Bane rubbed his brow.

"He was a fool
to attack you."

"He is a
child. His brother undoubtedly hatched the plot." Bane recounted
the tale in short, clipped sentences. When he finished, Sarrin bit
her lip, glancing at Artan, who stared into the fire with glazed
eyes. Mithran grunted and shook his head; Grem paused in his honing
and frowned at his blade.

Bane turned
away and lay down beside Mirra, who had been placed on a blanket
close to the fire, pulling his cloak over them. She stirred,
sighed, and slipped her arms around him. He sat up and held her
close, stroking her hair. Sarrin's eyes burnt at the confusion on
the girl's face and the utter relief on Bane's. Mirra glanced
around at the others, who gazed at her with varying degrees of
delight.

"What
happened?"

Bane chuckled,
shaking his head.

She tensed and
pulled away to look up at him. "You are hurt! Your ankle... and
your arm... and here..." her hand crept to the wound in his side,
inflicted by Morvanor. "And your eyes... Bane, what is wrong with
your eyes?" Her voice rasped with dread.

"It will heal.
Are you all right?"

"Yes." Mirra
tugged at the bandage. "Let me see your eyes."

He tried to
capture her frantic hands. "Leave it; there is nothing you can
do."

"I must see."
She shook off his hands and untied the knot that held the bandages
in place. The others held their breath as she unwound the cloth
with shaking hands, her expression anguished. When the last strip
fell away, Bane bowed his head again and rubbed his eyes. She
gripped his chin and lifted his head, turning it to the light.

"Open your
eyes." He sighed, trying to rub them again, but she pulled his
hands away. "Stop that. Open your eyes; let me see."

Bane obeyed,
revealing pure white orbs.

Mirra gave a
choked sob. "Goddess..." She clasped the sides of his head and
studied his eyes, her own overflowing. "You are blind."

He smiled. "I
noticed that."

"How did this
happen? How long ago?"

"Vampire acid,
about four, five days ago now."

Mirra glanced
at Sarrin, who bit her lip. "What did you do when it happened?"

The old
priestess described her remedies, and Mirra nodded, turning back to
study Bane's eyes again. Her hands caressed his face in frantic
little stroking motions, her expression anguished. Bane captured
her hands and kissed the palm of one.

"It is all
right, do not fret so."

"It is not all
right! I must heal you! We must find some sunlight."

He nodded. "We
will. Hush now, do not weep."

Mirra sobbed
and freed her hands to clasp his face again, leaning closer to rain
kisses on his cheeks and brow. "I am so sorry..."

"Stop it. It
is not your fault."

"If only I
could heal you!"

"You will. It
is all right." Bane pulled her close, stilling her frantic caresses
by holding her firmly until she gave up trying to free herself and
relaxed with a shuddering sigh. He bowed his head and buried his
face in her hair, closing his eyes. "I am glad you are unharmed.
That is all that matters to me."

"But you are
hurt." She squirmed. "Let me tend to your wound."

Bane released
her, and she helped him to remove his cloak and shirt so she could
bind the rapier wound with strips of cloth that Grem tore from an
old robe. She kept glancing at Bane's closed eyes with obvious
anguish and despair, and Sarrin's heart ached for her. Mirra
rebandaged his eyes, winding the ragged cloth around his shining
hair. What it must be, Sarrin mused, to love a mortal god, and to
be loved by him. How wonderful, and dreadful, when he must fight
the horrors of the darkness, and risk his life so often. She tried
to imagine what it must be like to live with the constant dread of
losing him, to tend his wounds after the battles and share his
pain.

Tears ran down
Mirra's cheeks as she stroked the shining wings of hair that framed
his face. Sarrin contemplated how terrible it must be to love
someone so beautiful, and to see him crippled and suffering, but be
unable to help him. She found it hard to see him like this, so for
Mirra it must be pure torture. Bane captured her hands again and
lay down with a sigh, pulled her close and covered them with his
cloak. Sarrin turned away to gaze into the fire.

Chapter Ten

Faithless

Kayos' shield
deflected a bolt of shadow, flashing blue as it was struck. He
leapt back as Torvaran charged, a white wall shooting up in the
dark god's path. He rebounded off it and staggered back. They had
repeated the same moves so many times now that it was becoming a
familiar dance whose steps Kayos was able to predict. Torvaran had
left five times to Gather more power, and the area had darkened
considerably. The dark god stopped and lowered his arms, a slight
smile twisting his thin lips.

"So, a good
battle indeed. Most enjoyable. One almost worthy of me, but perhaps
it is time to stop toying with you."

Kayos yawned.
"Good, I was getting bored."

"Then I shall
have to remedy that. At least you have more courage than most, some
of whom even begged for their lives. They were fools to expect
mercy from a dark god."

The Grey God
shrugged. "My kind expects to find some goodness in even the most
unexpected places, and sometimes we do."

"You speak of
the treacherous tar'merin. Often have I longed to meet one, so I
could destroy him."

"I am
surprised you even know about them. They are so rare that few have
ever met one."