Asgoleth The Warrior: A Modern Tale of Sword And Sorcery (fantasy fiction books) (3 page)

Demos glared at the king, his eyes flashing with sparks of red hellfire as he gazed upon the fat fool. All in the throne room were silent as they watched and the only sound came from the gently tumbling waterfalls in the gardens outside. Finally Demos spoke.

‘Aye lord King; I have found a way to defeat them. Here upon my finger, is a ring of great magical power. The stone is said to have fallen to Earth in the time of the great destruction, a fragment of one of the mighty weapons the ancient gods used to punish the mortals who dared defy them. With the power of this gem I shall be able to smash open the sturdy gates of their fortresses and allow our troops to enter in.’

Trannos glared at the ring and growled,

‘I have seen that ring upon your finger many times wizard. If it has the power you claim then why have you not used it in the service of your king ere now?’

Demos laughed and said,

‘Because I did not choose to do so, fool.’

The king’s eyes went wide with outrage and a loud murmur arose. Demos turned his back on the king, an unpardonable breach of court etiquette, and called out.

‘Hear me men of Akon. To invoke the power of the ring a sacrifice must be made to Balzar, dread lord of the Pit. Only thus will his aid be granted. Acknowledge me as your ruler and with Balzar’s aid I will lead you to victory over Torr and all the lands that lie beyond. It is your destiny to be lords of the Earth. Acclaim me king and with Balzar’s blessing, that destiny shall be fulfilled. Acclaim me now!’

A roar of approval arose from the cruel and ambitious Akonites who sensed in Demos a means of achieving their ambitions, Demos laughed and turned back to face the outraged king.

‘But before I become King, there must be a sacrifice,’ he cried. ‘Behold the power of mighty Balzar!’

King Trannos, wild eyed with rage, lumbered clumsily to his feet and drew his ornate sword.

‘You insolent dog!’ he screamed. ‘You dare to lay claim to my throne. Die!’

He lunged wildly at the wizard but Demos laughed and easily avoided the clumsy blow. The king fell heavily to the floor and his sword flew from his grasp and clattered noisily away across the tiles. He lay there; gasping after his sudden exertions and Demos stepped toward his floundering form and raised his hand whereon the ring had begun to glow.

‘Guards!’ the king screamed, ‘Kill him! Kill him!’

The king’s soldiers shuffled nervously in indecision. They bore no love for their tyrant king and they sensed a great evil in this wizard. They had no wish to lose their souls to his black arts and so they did nothing.

Demos glared down at the fallen king and cried out,

‘Watch Akonites and learn the fate of those who would defy me.’

Demos concentrated all his thoughts on producing an illusion that would terrify the gathered nobility and cow them forever. He had learned the mental disciplines necessary for this from the ancient tomes of the wizards of the black path and the learning had been long and hard but now all his efforts would be rewarded. The king was enveloped in the ghastly red radiance of the ring. At once his skin began to bubble and turn black and the stench of burning flesh filled the air. The king’s eyes were wide with horror as he began to scream.

Demos knew that the king’s horror was mirrored in the eyes of those who watched and he smiled. They were nothing but ignorant fools and when he had finished with Trannos, none of them would dare defy him.

Now it was time to let them see the visage of their new God. Beads of sweat trickled down his face as he let loose the full power of his mind. Many others echoed the screams of the king as they saw his body rise slowly into the air and begin to rotate, writhing in agony as it was devoured by that hideous red brilliance. Demos raised his voice until it rang out above the bedlam.

‘Oh mighty Balzar, ancient lord of the pit, I, Demos, offer this sacrifice to your everlasting glory. Come forth and feast!’

In answer to his cry, a faint rumbling was heard. The rumbling grew swiftly louder as if something huge and terrible were rushing down upon the throne room. Men fell to their knees, covering their ears and women screamed in terror as they saw the solid stone wall behind the throne dissolve into a cloud of roiling black smoke, shot through with flashes of red and orange flame. Then, forming out of the ebon cloud, a gigantic reptilian face appeared.

Sparks crackled from the twisted horns on its misshapen head and its flesh was covered in glittering red and silver scales. Its huge maw was lined with razor sharp fangs, each as thick around as a man’s arm and half as long. A long bifurcated tongue flickered in and out among those terrible teeth and the eyes, huge yellow orbs split by vertical black pupils, burned with a ghastly, inhuman hunger as it gazed upon the humans before it.

The terrified nobility fell groveling on their bellies before Balzar and exultation flowed through Demos as he realised just how much power he would be able to command. He knew that Balzar was merely an illusion projected by the power of his mind and the strange red stone upon his finger but to the trembling Akonites behind him, Balzar would appear to be a dark and terrible god; a god hungry for human sacrifice, a hunger that Demos would satisfy with the bodies of his enemies. Although he did not think there would be too many who would oppose him. They would never dare to rebel against him after this display of Balzar’s power. Demos caused the monster to open its mouth and emit a frightful roar. He grinned as he heard the answering cries of terror from behind him. It was time now to bring the demonstration to a satisfying conclusion.

The creature’s long tongue shot out of its gaping mouth, wrapping itself around the wriggling body of the king and slowly it began to draw him in towards those waiting fangs. Trannos, his eyes bulging and froth dripping from his lips screamed and cackled insanely as he was drawn ever closer to the monsters mouth. Then those dreadful jaws snapped shut and blood sprayed from Balzar’s lips as the king’s body was reduced to red ruin. Even then, Trannos continued to scream long after his cries should have ceased but finally, with a long, gurgling, gasp, he fell silent at last. Balzar opened his mouth and spat out the ruined body. It fell to the floor and lay there, twisted and broken, in a slowly widening pool of blood. With a last baleful glare at the cowering humans, the thing retreated slowly back into the flame shot clouds of smoke. Then the smoke itself slowly faded away until only the wall of the throne room remained.

In the horrified silence that followed, only Demos moved. He turned slowly around and held the glowing ring high above his head. He looked upon the wide-eyed, frightened nobles and he smiled a cruel smile. In a voice full of evil glee he cried out,

‘Akonites, prostrate yourselves before your new king!’

All there hastened to obey, lest they too should fall foul of the wizard’s wrath. Demos, looking down upon their prostrate forms, grinned in satisfaction as he looked upon his new subjects. They were the first but they would not be the last. The world was about to learn that it had a new master.

Alive with the thrill of power he turned and striding over to the golden throne of Akon, he seated himself upon it. He was king here now but he had grander plans. When he had conquered Torr and had wrested the heart of Ra from its hiding place he would be no mere king, he would be the master of an empire such as the world had never seen.

In a loud and imperious voice he cried out,

‘Summon my generals and counselors to the palace. For today we set out upon the road to empire!’

He laughed as they scurried to do his bidding, then he leaned back in his new won throne and began to dream ambitious dreams.

Princess Amira moaned softly as consciousness returned. Her eyes flickered open and she looked up into the face of a huge warrior who was crouching over her. She gasped and shrank back from him. It had not been a nightmare then. Briefly, images of brutal men and savage conflict filled her mind and she cried out in fear.

‘Easy girl,’ grated the man. ‘You are safe now. Those who tried to kidnap you lie slain; you need fear them no longer.’

She stared up at him, wide eyed, unable to believe what had been happening to her this night. Never, in all her young life had anyone dared to lay violent hands upon her. She bridled at the memory of being dragged through dark passageways and through filthy alleys; of being fought over as though she were a mere piece of property. And now she found herself being held in the arms of this savage who claimed to have saved her. It was too much to bear. Her eyes flashed in outrage as she glared up at him and then her mounting anger suddenly vanished to be replaced by a thrill of unease as she looked into the warrior’s cold, grey eyes.

She had heard tales of such barbarian warriors, grisly tales of bloodshed and rapine and slaughter and she suddenly felt very unsure of herself in this huge man’s presence. What did he intend to do with her?

She gasped as he suddenly, with great strength and ease, lifted her to her feet. Her head was spinning but she managed to keep her balance and said,

‘Who are you warrior?’

‘My name is Asgoleth of Cathia, a land far to the north of here. How came you to be in the company of such rogues girl?’

She stared at him, taken aback by his direct speech and forthright manner. It was something she was just not used to. Finally she shook her head and replied,

‘In truth Asgoleth, I know not. The last thing I remember clearly was drinking a goblet of wine before retiring to my bedchamber. After that, all was a horror filled nightmare until I awoke to find you looking down upon me.’

Asgoleth grunted,

‘You were drugged then, to make the job of your kidnappers the easier. Do you know who they were?’

She shook her head, then her face paled as she realised what might have happened to her.

‘If you had not stopped them those horrible men would have succeeded in their plans. I owe you much Asgoleth.’

He grinned down at her and said,

‘You owe me naught, Princess.’

She gasped and stepped back and he smiled grimly in the darkness.

‘You know who I am?’ She demanded.

‘Aye, that I do girl. I saw you once at your father’s side when he came to inspect his border garrisons. I am not one to forget beauty such as yours; nor would any man with red blood in his veins.’

She blushed under his bold gaze and once again felt a tingle of disquiet as she realised her helplessness. All her life she had been accustomed to warriors bowing before her but this man did not look as if he had ever bowed to anyone. Even though he knew of her exalted status, there was nothing of awe in his demeanour. It was yet another new and disturbing experience for her and there was a slight tremor in her voice as she said,

‘Well Asgoleth of Calthia, what do you intend to do with me?’

Asgoleth grinned and his strong teeth flashed in the moonlight.

‘By the beard of Ragnar girl, there are many things a man could do with a wench as fair as you and I am sorely tempted; but I think I should get you back to the palace before your father tears the city apart looking for you.’

Mingled expressions of relief and disappointment flashed across Amira’s pretty face. Relief that she had been rescued and disappointment at failing to discover what a man like this would do with her were she an ordinary girl and not a high born lady. His hard, strong, lines appealed to her, as did his easy confident manner and she felt some deep and primitive part of herself responding to him, for though she was of royal blood, she was still a woman.

She found herself feeling envious of those common girls who were free to dally with the men of their choice. Such simple pleasures were forever denied to one of her station. As well as being the Princess, she was the high priestess of mighty Solus. When her term of temple duty was over, she would marry a man chosen for her by her father and she would bear him strong sons to carry on her line. She would live out a life of duty and obligation to the people of Torr as a high born woman of the house of King Aractus should.

For a moment she felt a fierce stirring of rebellion in her heart and wished that he would change his mind and carry her off with him to share his life of wild adventure. But the moment passed and she sighed, she knew that she could never share his kind of life no matter how much she wanted to. She was a royal princess and must live as such; there was no other path for her. She looked up into his eyes and said,

‘You are right, of course, I must return. Come, let us go now. This evil place makes me shiver.’

She cried out in surprise as he suddenly gave a sulphurous curse and swept her off her feet, drawing his huge sword as he did so.

‘What are you doing? Put me down at once!’

‘We must go quickly girl, there are many armed men coming towards us. Now be silent and hang on to me, I can move faster if I carry you.’

Such was the tone of command in his voice that she unthinkingly obeyed. He carried her easily in his strong arms and moved as silently as a stalking tiger through the menacing gloom. Behind her now her city bred ears finally picked up the sounds of pursuit that he had heard so long before and she stared into the darkness behind them with frightened eyes.

He slipped into the concealing gloom of a side alley and placed her on her feet.

‘Be silent,’ he whispered and together they stood and listened to the sounds of approaching men. Dark, furtive shapes slid past their hiding place and she felt sure they must hear the rapid beating of her heart. In all, she counted six armed forms, saw the moonlight glinting off their steel, and then they were gone into the night, not knowing how close they had been to their prey.

For a time they stood where they were to let their pursuers get well away. Amira, as she stood there with his strong arm protectively around her, was amazed to find that in the company of this huge barbarian warrior she felt a delicious sense of security. Something primal within her was responding to his fierce masculinity and her head whirled in confusion. Her breath came in quick little gasps and her heart was hammering within her bosom though not now with fear of her enemies. Never had she felt anything like this before. She was frightened and yet wonderfully alive, all at the same time. She gazed up at him and found herself wanting desperately to go with him, wherever he might take her.