Dark God (48 page)

That evening, Bane and Grem ate
a hearty beef stew in the common room, and Mirra dined on steamed
vegetables. The patrons barely glanced at the newcomers.

After dinner, while the men
enjoyed good nutty ale, a nearby disagreement grew loud, and they
could not help overhearing it. Three burly woodsmen glared at each
other across a table as their argument flared. Their well-worn
leather jerkins revealed muscular tanned arms, and their craggy
faces were lean and stubbled.

"He deserves it, I tell you!"
one shouted.

The man opposite him thumped the
table. "He's a woodsman, lived here all his life. It's lies!"

The third man said, "There's too
much proof, Jorn. He's guilty. We all like him, but we can't have
him carrying on like that."

"Tomorrow he hangs, and good
riddance!" The irate man stormed out, kicking over a chair on his
way.

When the maid came to refill
Bane's tankard, he nodded at the remaining woodsmen and asked, "Do
you know what that was all about?"

The girl smiled coquettishly.
"Aye, they're on about the woodsman they've accused of consorting
with evil."

"Really? What did he do?"

"They say he spoke to a demon
some days ago. Another man saw it, and now they're going to hang
him."

Bane frowned. "Is he from the
hills?"

"Aye, a woodsman born and
bred."

"Did he once have a wife?"

The girl, who was no more than
Mirra's age, puffed out her lips. "Ooh, now you're going back a
bit. Twenty or so years ago, he had one, I heard, but she vanished.
Now he's accused of murdering her, too."

The girl fluttered her lashes at
Bane. "You know what? You kind of look like him. He's a handsome
devil, too." She giggled, and when Bane did not return her smile,
pouted and flounced off.

Bane turned to Mirra. "It is my
father. It must be. This is the Black Lord's revenge."

"Then we will save him."

"I wonder why the demon did not
just kill him?"

"The main thing is that he is
still alive."

Bane nodded. "We have to get him
out, tonight."

Grem leant across the table.
"I'll do it for you."

"I will come too."

The mercenary shook his head,
looking a little embarrassed. "No, better if you don't. You haven't
got a sword, and you're not used to sneaking about. I'd rather try
to bust him out without raising a ruckus. That way we make a clean
getaway and no one gets hurt."

Bane considered. "If you think
you can do it, then all right."

"Easy as pissing on a tortoise.
These are just country folk."

When the maid returned to top up
their tankards again, Bane asked, "This man who is going to hang,
where are they keeping him?"

"Why do you ask?"

He shrugged. "I would just like
to know he is securely locked away."

"Oh, don't worry, they've got
him in the mill house, chained up and behind bars."

"Do you know his name?"

"Oh, aye, it's Mithran."

Bane nodded, and she left with
swinging hips.

They finished their drinks and
retired to their rooms to await a later hour, when few people would
be abroad.

At around midnight, Grem came to
Bane's room. His face was smeared with soot, and several daggers, a
length of twine, and a short club were stowed about his person, in
addition to his sword. Bane eyed the mercenary's arsenal, raising
his brows.

Grem smiled. "Just precautions.
Hopefully I'll only need the club."

"Be careful," Mirra said.

"I'll be back soon, with
him."

Grem slipped out, and Bane sat
on a bed. "This makes me wish I still had power."

"No, you do not need it."

"I am useless without it. I must
learn how to use a sword. Perhaps Grem will teach me."

"Yes, do that, but do not use
the power again."

He sighed, rubbing his brow. "If
I can avoid it, I will not. It is just that I am so used to having
it..."

"You feel naked without it."

"Yes. For four years I have been
invincible, untouchable, and men ran from me in fear. That part was
quite enjoyable, actually," he mused.

"Will it be difficult to prevent
yourself from summoning it if a dangerous situation arises?"

He shook his head. "It will just
be tempting."

"But you do still have some
powers, do you not?"

"Yes, but they are not really
defensive."

"What are they?" she asked.

"I can command the elements,
that is all."

"That is not such a small
thing."

"Compared to the dark power it
is nothing."

Mirra hesitated, loath to ask
him questions he did not wish to answer, but filled with a deep
longing to know more about him, as she had done from the moment she
met him. Even now he remained a mystery for the most part, and the
only way she would truly understand him was to question him about
his past. Now they had time to talk, and it seemed like a good time
to ask.

"Will you ever tell me what they
did to you when you were a child?"

Bane looked away. "I will if you
ask me."

"But you do not wish to."

"No. You would not enjoy the
tale, and I would not enjoy the telling of it."

She studied his profile. "Ellese
said you were tortured."

"You could call it that, I
suppose."

"What would you call it?"

"A great deal of suffering,
interspersed by periods of profound misery, which I came to think
of as normality."

Mirra shook her head. "How could
you ever think such a thing?"

"Because compared to the pain,
the lack of it was the closest thing to pleasure I knew."

She went over to kneel before
him. "Just tell me one thing that they did to you."

"Why do you wish to know
this?"

"Because Ellese says that what
they did to you made you what you were, and I want to understand it
too."

He gazed down at her. "Will it
help you, to understand why I did what I did to you?"

"Yes."

He stared into space for several
minutes, lost in thought. "I do not remember much of what happened
to me, which is probably a mercy. Many of my memories are
indistinct. They make little sense. I recall being trapped in rock,
it seemed like a very long time, unable to move, hardly able to
breathe. Probably an earth demon's idea of fun. Many times fire
demons burnt me or air demons denied me air, but that was when I
was older. When I was very young, it was the droges who enjoyed
punishing me, even though I had done nothing to deserve it. They
would make up reasons, invent lies about things I had done, and
when I denied it, they called me a liar.

"I spent most of my time
avoiding them, but I had to emerge from my hiding places to eat the
food they left for me, and they would be lying in wait. Then I
would be punished for hiding. Ellese was wrong when she said that
none of the pain I endured was punishment. It was all punishment,
but it was undeserved. I took out my anger on whatever I found that
was weaker than me, small crawling things that hid in the nooks and
crannies. I must have killed hundreds of those things. I do not
even know what they were. It just felt good, to do to something
else what had been done to me. Does that help you?"

Mirra nodded,
her eyes
stinging. "It does.
But undeserved punishment is abuse, not punishment."

"I suppose so, only they wanted
me to think they had reasons for doing it, I suppose."

"And those were the times of
great suffering?"

"No, those were the times of
profound misery." He leant forward and took her hands, meeting her
gaze. "If you ask me I will tell you of the suffering, but... I do
not want to cause you pain, and I fear it will if I tell you."

"I cannot imagine anyone being
able to endure more than that."

"They only stopped short of
doing me serious injury, and, since I had no concept of a better
life, I had to accept it."

"How did they punish you?"

Bane released her hands and
stood up, stepping around her to walk over to the window and gaze
out at the stars. She turned to watch him, biting her lip.

"Illusions," he said in a dead
voice. "Demons are masters of illusion. Many of those who tormented
me were demons disguised as droges. The droges would only whip or
hit me, that was real, but the demons did far worse. I know how it
feels to have my tongue burnt out. They did that many times, for
lying. I know how it feels to have all my teeth pulled out. That
they did because I once bit the droge who was beating me. Illusions
of pain are as bad as the real thing. I thought it was real, and
parts of it were, like holding me down and forcing my mouth open
when they pulled out my teeth. I know how it feels to burn in a
lava sea; they threw me in often enough. I know how it feels to be
flayed. They did that too."

"Everything you did to your
victims," Mirra said.

He turned, frowning. "Yes, and
at first it puzzled me that they did not survive like I did. They
died quite quickly, and their suffering ended, but mine did not. I
was not injured, except by the beatings, though not badly enough to
leave scars. My pain always ended when I lost consciousness, and
when I woke, whatever they had burnt away or cut off was
restored."

"What did Arkonen tell you about
why you were punished so much?"

"He told me to grow strong and
fight back. He said I could only end my pain when I could defend
myself, and the only way to do that was to master the dark
power."

"Did you ask him to stop
them?"

Bane snorted. "To ask for help
was to ask for a great deal of scorn, ridicule and contempt. What
was I, a weak puling maid? A dirty, cowardly human? The Black
Lord's son did not need help."

"So you did ask him."

"Once."

Mirra's eyes overflowed, and she
stifled a sob. He went over to her and pulled her to her feet,
making her sit on the bed. Gripping her arms, he gave her a little
shake.

"This is what I did not
want."

"I am all right, really." She
wiped her eyes. "Tell me about the suffering."

"Mirra..."

"Please."

He sighed, sitting beside her.
"One instance only."

"Yes."

"The suffering was to make me
stronger. Each time I was warned of it and prepared for it. I would
have quite a long time to think about what was going to happen to
me before they did it. Again, it was mostly illusions, although at
times I suffered bruises and minor burns. The first and least of
them was when they crucified me."

She stared at him in horror,
shaking her head. "How...?"

"They nailed me to a wall with
demon spears. Through my hands, feet and belly, then they left me
there for a very long time, hanging above a lava sea. I do not know
which was worse, the pain of the spears or the burning."

"They did everything to you that
they wanted you to do to people."

He nodded. "Yes. And while I
hung there, they taunted me. 'Does it hurt, Bane? Do you want to
weep like a woman? Why do you not scream, Bane? Perhaps that will
make you feel better, to howl like a cowardly human’.”

"What did you do?"

"I told them that one day I
would make them pay. One day, when I had the power. They laughed
and told me that day would not come, for I was weak, not worthy to
be the Black Lord's son. He was a god, and what was I? No, I was
not human, but I bled like they did, and I felt pain like they did
because I had a weak mortal body."

"How old were you?"

"I am not certain. There is no
concept of time in the Underworld, but I know I was sixteen when
Arkonen cut the runes, for he told me so. I was probably about
twelve or thirteen."

Mirra turned and hugged him,
wishing she could undo what had been done to him somehow, strip
away the terrible memories that would haunt him for the rest of his
life. He held her a little awkwardly, stroking her hair.

"Now do you understand me?"

"Yes. A little better."

"And you pity me."

She looked up at him. "You were
just a child. There is no shame in it."

He hesitated, playing with a
lock of her hair. "Perhaps one day I will not be offended by it,
and from you I will accept it, but I do not want it. Now you know
why I hated you so much for not feeling pain. That seemed so
unfair. And then when you did feel it, I did not like to inflict it
on you, and that seemed doubly unfair."

"Your whole life has been
unfair."

"It was all I knew. Now you know
a little of it too, and that must be a hard for you. That is why I
did not want to tell you."

She smiled, stroking his cheek.
"I am glad you told me."

"Now you know why your
gentleness was so strange to me. I did not understand it, for I had
not experienced it before. You puzzled me greatly, and that angered
me."

"Knowing what you suffered, it
amazes me that you are capable of gentleness."

"Only because I learnt it from
you." He paused, gazing down at her. "But I am also still capable
of inflicting a great deal of pain on others, without remorse or
compassion. Do you understand that?"

"Yes, though it troubles me. But
so long as you do not, there is no harm in it. Your mind is wounded
by your suffering, but in time perhaps that too will heal."

"There will always be
scars."

Mirra tightened her hold on him
and pressed her cheek to his chest, listening to his heartbeat. His
tension communicated itself to her, but she ignored it, determined
to give him all the affection he could stand, until he got used to
it. She wondered how Ellese had contended with his suffering for
eighteen years, even though she could only watch it in her glass.
How it must have hurt her to see a child be so cruelly
tortured.