The Demon's Blade (16 page)

The beast stared intently at Darien with luminous blue eyes, perched upon slimy stalks. The Executioner instantly knew what was happening. This was no random encounter. The gloom crawler had been tainted by domination magic. It was waiting for him, and only him.

Darien turned back a moment, to check for Jerris. The lad had gone a significant distance up the tunnel, and was now struggling to hang on to the reins of the terrified horses, but he was at least out of the way of danger, for the moment. The gloom crawler struck again, sending three of the grasping talons toward the agile shade, who dodged again. The talon strikes flew in continuously, one after another, keeping him pinned several yards away.

In the space of a scant few seconds, the Executioner quickly weighed his options. The hard shell was too thick for any sword strike. A shadow void might break through, but that was no guarantee. It might only enrage the beast, and a miss might bring the ceiling of the underpass down on top of him. Any earth spell posed an even greater risk of destabilizing the ancient tunnel. No, this would have to be a more conventional attack, and the first task would be to get rid of the talons.

The agile shade danced with the half dozen grasping tendrils, waiting for an opportunity to strike. Soon enough, the gloom crawler overextended on one of its strikes, leaving itself vulnerable. With a quick slash, the Executioner sliced through one of the slimy arms, lopping off the talon, which flailed upon the dusty cave floor like a fish stranded upon a rock. The beast shrieked in pain and drew back, momentarily stunned, and Darien pressed his advantage. Two more talons dropped to the floor before the monster could react, but then it steadied itself and drew inward, lowering its shell about it.

The beast lurched toward its opponent, its shell too close to the ground to allow any strike, and the tubed mouth opened wide, pushing the rings of teeth outward. The monster charged forward with surprising speed, and the close confines of the underpass worked to its advantage. The Executioner, however, held the advantage of quickness, and so lured the beast into charging straight at him as he stood with his back to the cave wall. At the last moment, he leapt clear, vaulted off the beast’s shell, and ran back up the tunnel several yards to gain distance. He then raised his hand to the beast’s open mouth as it turned to face him again. The moisture of the cave coalesced into shards of ice upon the tips of his fingers, then flew into the open mouth. Black blood spurted forth as the razor sharp ice shards found their mark.

Again, the gloom crawler drew back, shrieking in pain. Had the monster not been driven by magic, it would probably have run, but the spell held it focused upon its target. Darien did not waste the monster’s moment of indecision. In a single motion, he drew a throwing dagger and hurled it into the beast’s right eye. A moment later, a second dagger flew forth, slicing into the eyestalk below the other eye, only narrowly missing severing the stalk entirely.

Even so, the pain was too much for the gloom crawler, and it lost what little intelligence it possessed to a mad rage directed towards the enemy that had nearly blinded it. It charged towards Darien with all the speed it could muster, the clawed appendages clicking loudly upon the stone. The beast’s enormous bulk hurtled toward the shade with deadly speed, but in the beast’s rage, it lowered its defenses. Just as the beast had nearly reached him, the Executioner leapt into the air, swiftly turning and landing on the beast’s shell just to the right of the notch. In the next instant, Darien took his longsword with both hands, and buried the blade up to the hilt into the beast’s body, between the eyestalks and above the mouth. The gloom crawler shuddered to a stop, a gurgling sound came from somewhere inside the beast, it vomited up a horrid smelling mixture of blood and bile, and as suddenly as it had begun, the battle was over.

Darien dismounted from his perch on the lip of the crawler’s shell, retrieved his sword, and began to clean the blade, scarcely noticing Jerris as he walked up, leading the two horses.

“What in the world was that?” The still shocked youth gasped as he stared at the now motionless and dead mass of the gloom crawler.

“It is called a gloom crawler. I have never seen one this large before. Rather more importantly, it was a trap, deliberately set by someone, probably Avirosa, for me, and me only,” Darien calmly answered while he continued cleaning his blade.

“I don’t understand. A trap? What do you mean?”

“The beast acted under a spell of compulsion. It’s a form of domination magic. A simple idea is placed into the mind of a creature, usually to guard a certain place, or kill a certain person. In this case both,” Darien finished his explanation just as he finished cleaning the foul black blood from his sword, and sheathed the blade.

“So, Avirosa left this thing here to kill you?”

“So it would appear,” Darien stated. “I expected some sort of trap might be laid down here. I didn’t expect something this powerful. He must have gone to considerable trouble to get this creature here. Gloom crawlers don’t live in these mountains. Hopefully, we won’t encounter anything worse in the underpass.”

“How much longer is this tunnel anyway?” Jerris asked, his voice apprehensive.

“At least another day’s ride at a reasonable pace for these horses.”

“Will we ride through the night then?” Jerris questioned.

“No, even if we could, the horses would still be a problem. They need to be fresh in case we are caught in a chase.” Darien kept speaking as he climbed up onto Cloud’s saddle. “There’s a large open space, the midpoint of the underpass, some ways onward. We’ll camp there. Now mount up, we still have to cover a considerable distance before that.” Jerris got up onto his horse, Terra, and they continued onwards into the darkness of the underpass, leaving the corpse of the gloom crawler behind them.

After perhaps a few more hours of dull travel, the midway point came into view. Here the road widened into a round plaza, perhaps twenty yards across. Once, this place had been a bustling hub of activity along the route to Vorog, but now it was an empty ruin. On one side, an opening in the mountainside formed a long, narrow window, open to the south. The window continued down the tunnel for some distance further down the underpass. An old well without a bucket, clearly long abandoned, stood at the center of the plaza. To the rear of the cave, opposite the window, the outlines of ancient doors and passages long sealed could still be seen on the wall. Iron lamps hung from the ceiling in several places, but many were missing, and the few that remained had clearly not been lit with candle or torch for many years. There were only two magical torches on the far wall. The remainder of the light came from the moons and stars outside. An occasional breath of cool air blew in from the window.

"What’s out there?" Jerris exclaimed as he hopped down off his horse and looked out the window.

"Well, you can't see much now, but in the morning, we'll be able to see where we're headed."

"It's good to see the stars," Jerris said as he stretched his arms over his head. "I think I've had about all I can take of caves and tunnels."

Darien shrugged and turned away. Of course the boy must realize that there’s at least one more day of caves and tunnels. Jerris got his bedroll and laid it where he could look out the window at the stars. "Aren't you going to sleep?" Jerris asked.

"Don't waste time worrying about my welfare. Focus on yourself," Darien grumbled. "I intend to watch and listen for a while at least."

Jerris offered no further argument, and then all was quiet, except for the regular breathing of the now-sleeping lad and the musical drips of water falling from the cave walls somewhere in the distance. Darien remained awake for a long while. Oddly, it was the day's conversation rather than the battle with the gloom crawler that troubled his mind. Fighting and killing were second nature to Darien the Executioner, but talking about himself was not. It had been a long time since he had spoken with anyone about the sword, or about his time as a shade. He rarely thought about it himself; it haunted him, like a terrible shadow from which he could never quite emerge. In order to keep his sanity, he had learned to focus on the present moment, and push other thoughts aside. The conversation with Jerris, however, had brought those thoughts up to the surface, and on this night, he found it difficult to shake them. The memory of Kirin troubled him most. Kirin remained, even now, the closest thing to a friend he had ever had, and he could not push the scattered memories out of his mind as he slowly drifted into an uneasy sleep.

Chapter 14: Dreams and Visions

A moment after sleep took him, Darien found himself standing in the main hall of Shade Castle, surrounded by frozen figures. They neither moved nor spoke, standing in place, actors upon a stage, waiting on some unseen queue. The dreams always began this way, and by now the sharp mind of the Executioner was well aware what he was witnessing was not real, only a ghostly echo of a past that no longer felt entirely his. This particular dream, however, was not familiar. He guessed that he was about to witness the memory he had been searching for during his earlier conversation with Jerris.

The Master sat upon his throne in the main hall. To his left, the corpselike figure of Avirosa the Wraith stood glaring down at the shackled form of Kirin. A black shadow hung over Avirosa’s left shoulder, formless, dark, and ominous. Something should be there, something important, but try as he might, Darien could not remember what it was. Other figures were standing all around, witnessing the spectacle, but none were recognizable, their faces replaced with blurred colors, or empty darkness. Beyond a few feet away, everything faded into a gray brown haze. Darien stood to the right of the Master, unable to move or speak, awaiting the moment when the motionless actors would begin the terrible dance. Finally, the scene lurched into motion and the air filled with sound, the hum of hundreds of voices in the crowd of faceless apparitions whispering to one another.

"The accuser shall now read the charges," the Master bellowed loudly over the hum of the audience.

It was the Wraith who spoke first, in his raspy hissing voice. "The traitor Kirin stands accused of high treason against the most just and worthy Master of the Order of the Shade. He has consorted and convened with the enemies of the Order of the Shade, violated the most sacred oaths of secrecy and loyalty to our order, plotted the assassination of fellow members of the order, and aided the rebels of Palama in their defiance of the Master's just rule." Darien listened, knowing the truth of the charges, but disbelieving all the same. Darien’s former teacher, Kirin the Hollow Eyed, knelt with his head down, his long blond hair fallen over his face. He had been bound by shackles which effectively nullified his magical energies. Darien hated seeing him this way, fallen, defeated, disgraced, and condemned.

"So says the Accuser. What says the Accused?" The Master's piercing, inhuman voice echoed in the hall.

"I have nothing to say to you," Kirin sneered at the Master. "To fill your ranks, you promise justice and order, but you only lust for power. You are beyond all hope of redemption, but I would speak to my accusers before my inevitable execution."

"Ho, ho!" The Master cackled. "Speak then. This is your trial, deny the charges or beg for mercy as you like. Justice shall be served either way."

“Avirosa,” Kirin stared up at the pallid assassin. “You are a coward. How long have you stalked my steps to discover my plans, to gather enough evidence to bring me here? All because you were too weak to face me. You might have taken me by surprise a dozen times, but your courage was too little even for that. Once, you were my student, but now, you are less than nothing to me.” He spat the words out as he spoke them.

“What does that matter? Coward or no,” Avirosa countered quietly, “I will live to see another sunrise. You will only see the dungeons.”

Kirin then turned towards Darien. What role he played in bringing his former teacher to this trial he could not remember, yet here he was.

"Darien," Kirin looked directly at him. "Whatever happens today, I forgive you."

"You forgive me?" Darien heard his voice speak, even though he had not willed it. He could not escape the dream, and his voice continued, "You should be asking forgiveness, not offering it, or do you deny your guilt?"

"Whether I admit it or deny it makes no difference, as you well know." Kirin shook his head gloomily and sighed. "The Master is not what I thought he was. The Order is not what I thought it was. I hope one day you will come to understand that as I have."

"And what did you think it was? What did you think he was? Order can only be enforced through power, and the Master is power. Only his iron fist can bring order to this world of inequity and sorrow," Darien sneered at Kirin and looked down at him viciously. "The strong rule. The weak have only to obey, and if they cannot obey, they perish. There is nothing else. You taught me this, and now you deny it? Why?"

"He,he,ho!" the Master laughed in a low guttural way, a knowing laugh. "He will not tell you, my Executioner. He is not your friend anymore. He is not one of us anymore. His loyalty now lies… elsewhere.” The Master snickered, and broken laughter could be heard round the room. “Do you really want to know why he has betrayed us, Darien?"

"I would. To commit treason against the Order of the Shade is swift and certain death. No traitor has ever escaped punishment. What could drive him to such madness?"

"Well, then," the Master bellowed loudly, "let us all see what has brought this doom upon Kirin the Hollow Eyed. I'm sure this will prove most amusing."

As Darien turned back toward Kirin, he noticed that Kirin had looked up. The curtain of his hair parted, and the look on his face was horribly changed. Resignation and defeat had turned to stark terror. What dread doom had the Master unleashed upon the helpless prisoner worse than the prospect of torture and death? Darien had always known his teacher to be cold, calculating, detached, even as he had learned to be. What could so terrify Kirin the Hollow Eyed?

"Bring forth the woman," the Master commanded loudly, and a large ogre, his face an empty portal of blackness, dragged a struggling prisoner into the hall. The ogre dropped the prisoner in front of the Master and lumbered off. A woman with fiery auburn hair and fair, speckled skin now lay on the floor before Darien and the Master, alternately cursing and weeping, her face covered by her curly red locks.

"Let her go, let her go, Please, I'll do anything." Kirin scrambled towards her as best he could on his shackled hands and knees, but the ogre who held Kirin’s chains only pulled him back.

"Oh, I don't think so," the Master said as a sickly smile wormed its way across his dark face. "I have a much better idea. Since you wish so much for freedom from me, I think I shall give it to you. I shall give you a choice." While the Master laughed in amusement, Kirin's face turned white, filled with still new terror, now combined with the miserable despair of a soul who knows he is utterly defeated. Darien had seen this look many times on those brought before the Master. Seeing Kirin this way was painful to the Executioner. His chest tightened, and his head hurt. The pain weakened him, and pulled him closer to the world of his dream. He resisted, but it always happened this way. The longer the dream progressed, the more real it became.

After the laughter died down, the Master spoke again, "Here is the choice I will give you. If you denounce this woman, deny your love for her, and leave her to me, then I shall hold her wholly responsible for your guilt, and I will allow you to rejoin the Order of the Shade, or accept a peaceful exile, whatever you wish. If you do so, then she shall receive all the punishments I reserved for you, until she dies a slow, painful, and hideous death. On the other hand, you may choose to accept your guilt and punishment. If you do so, I will allow you the privilege of granting this woman a quick and easy death."

"You are monsters, all of you!" the nameless woman cursed up at the Master and the two accusers. "May the gods’ punishment upon you be the equal of all the pain you inflict upon others." Then she turned to Kirin. "My love, Kirin, I hold you guiltless whatever choice you make, but I beg you. Leave me. Allow me to endure punishment so that your life may be spared. There is no need for both of us to die."

"She speaks wisdom," Darien heard himself speaking to Kirin. "The Master has shown you mercy this day. Do not allow your desire for this woman to overthrow your reason. Do not foolishly throw away his gift out of misplaced loyalty to this seductress who has corrupted your mind."

"You do not know what you say, my young friend," Kirin replied. "All your life has been pain, suffering, and anger. You have never known love, and until I met her, neither had I. I once told you that your feelings made you weak. I thought that true power came from perfect order, cold, immovable, unflinching reason, but I was wrong. If you remember nothing else of this day, remember what I do. I know you do not understand now. Perhaps you will never understand, but remember that the power to endure whatever pain may come for the sake of another is a power beyond anything the Master can ever teach you."

Darien was stunned, struck by strange feelings of confusion and unease. His mind could not grab any foothold of sense or reason, the dream becoming too powerful to deny, and he cried out with his own voice. "Kirin, how can you make this choice? There is no reason. She will die anyway. She was already dead when she was brought here. You throw your life away… for… for nothing."

"You see, Darien," the Master placed his clawed hand on Darien’s shoulder and laughed. "I knew well enough that Kirin would make this choice. I have seen it often. Let this be a lesson to you, a lesson in the foolishness of love. You must be ever vigilant against it. It poisons the mind. It consumes a man until he is blind to everything else. It turns man against his brother. It usurps all bonds of loyalty and oaths of service. It is treason; it is injustice; it is chaos. It is the enemy of all order, truth, and reason. Beware of it."

Kirin only smiled at Darien, and held out his hand. Without a word, Darien handed him a small dagger. Kirin walked over to his lover with dagger in hand. "He would never have let me live anyway. His words are as empty as his soul. I love you, always and forever," Kirin declared with tears in his eyes.

"And I love you, Kirin. Goodbye my love, and thank you," the woman replied. Then Kirin plunged the dagger into her heart. Blood spilled out onto the floor, and Darien heard the sound of terrible screaming from the dungeon. He covered his ears, but the sound pierced even deeper. He shut his eyes, but the image of Kirin's face would not leave his vision.

When he opened his eyes again, the image of Kirin was still before him, but now horribly disfigured. His old teacher leaned upon the far wall of a cell in the dungeon, his legs and arms broken in several places. He was missing most of his teeth, and his left eye. He was barely recognizable as man or elf, let alone someone Darien had long known. They were now in the dungeon beneath Shade Castle. Some amount of time must have passed, and Darien realized he was reliving something from after the trial. The dripping of water broke the silence. Darien turned away from the broken face and stared at a puddle of water on the floor beside him.

“You have come? Thank you.” The voice of Kirin was broken and pained.

“What do you want?” the Executioner asked. “The Master forbade me to see you, so be quick.”

“For good reason, and I will be quick. I have little time left. Before I die, I must tell you. I must tell you what really happened with your mother. I must confess this, for of all my crimes, it is that one I most regret.”

“What are you talking about? What about my mother?”

“It was… a trap. The Master told us about an elven sorceress living in the forest. The Master said she was powerful, as an enemy, or an ally. We asked her to join us, but she refused, and fled. I don’t understand why, but we were sent, Avirosa and I, to hunt her.” Kirin coughed, and the sound of blood spattering on the floor echoed in the quiet of the dungeon. “We finally found her, in that village, and we found out she had a child. We reported this to the Master. He sent us back, with orders to kill the woman and take the child. We orchestrated all of it. We drew you into that conflict with the boys, and then helped the guards find your mother. We even helped them subdue her. Her magic was strong, easily a match for both of us, but when we threatened your life, she surrendered.”

“You…you lie,” Darien’s voice filled with bitterness and disbelief.

“I swear upon my life, upon her life, upon everything I ever taught you. It is true.” Kirin’s desperation was painfully evident, and the Executioner understood the truth of the words, both in his dream, and in the waking world beyond. He turned toward Kirin, who now seemed suddenly frantic, rushed, as if some danger were growing closer.

“There is more, but we are almost out of time. The Master is not a demon as he claims. He has a secret power, an ancient weapon, the source of his power, his unnatural magic…”

Another instant later, Kirin and the dungeon were gone. Darien drifted, weightless, in a world of emptiness filled with floating red and gray dust that drifted and meandered as if blown by wind, but he felt no breeze. Some of the dust then coalesced, forming an image of the Demon Sword, gigantic in size, first translucent and shifting like the dust, then firm and undeniably solid. Slowly at first, then more quickly, he felt himself pulled toward the darkness of the gigantic blade. He could not escape. Now he was falling, falling inexorably into the abyss of blackness. All light faded. He heard whispers all around him, in a language he had never heard. They grew louder until the sound was painful. He cried out, but his voice could not be heard over the whispers. He struggled, but no motion of his limbs stopped his endless fall into nothingness.

#

Darien bolted upright, dripping with cold sweat, exhausted as if he hadn’t slept in days. The sun had just begun to creep over the eastern horizon. A thin streamer of light pierced the darkness of the underpass, and ran down the dark tunnel parallel to the window. A lone crow cawed loudly somewhere out on the mountainside, its shrill cries like screaming voices to the now wakened dreamer. The crow continued its loud squawking for several minutes, before it mercifully flew to whatever other business called it away. The fear and despair of the dream began to slowly dissipate as the streamer of light inched almost imperceptibly across the tunnel with the rising of the sun.