Dark God (6 page)

Ellese waited at the top of the
five steps that led into the chapel, her expression serene. The
golden doors stood open, and a soft radiance filled the abbey
behind her. Two other Elder Mothers flanked her, and a group of
stern-faced healers stood behind them, their hard eyes on Bane.
With a glad cry, Mirra ran up the steps to be engulfed in Ellese's
welcoming embrace. It had been far too long since Mirra had known
the comforting touch of another human being, and hot tears flooded
her eyes.

"Mother! It is so good to be
home."

Ellese hugged her, then held her
away to study her, brushing the tears from her cheeks. Elder
Mother's eyes also grew moist, and she pulled Mirra into her arms
again, stroking her ragged hair. Clearly Mirra's thinness and
frailty distressed Ellese.

"My poor, sweet child, how I
have missed you," she murmured. "Thank the Goddess you are returned
to us unharmed."

"I have missed you too,
Mother."

"I know, my dear, but you are
safe now. I regret all you have suffered, and the Goddess does
too."

Ellese kissed Mirra's brow, then
released her and looked at Bane, who stood at the bottom of the
steps, his hands clasped behind him. He seemed a little puzzled by
this strange behaviour, and rather bored, his pale eyes sweeping
the gathered women. Ellese stepped around Mirra and walked down the
steps.

Bane eyed Ellese when she
stopped a step above him, her face almost level with his, and
studied him. He held her gaze, his stare becoming a glare as her
scrutiny annoyed him. Ellese slapped him so hard that he
staggered.

"Mother!" Mirra ran down to
Bane, who fingered his bleeding lip. He shook her off when she
tried to grab his arm and spun to face the seeress with murder in
his eyes. Ellese raised her chin, undaunted.

"I hope that hurt, Bane. You
have had a lot of pain, but none of it was punishment, was it? That
was for all the innocent people you have tortured and killed, for
your ill treatment of Mirra, beating her, starving her. I think you
got off lightly."

"How dare you?" Blood ran down
his chin, and his eyes blazed.

Ellese smiled.
"How dare I? It is a small punishment for what you have done. Do
you want to use your power? Smear me to ash? You will die if you
do, and your
demon steed
cannot help you here."

Bane glared at Mirra. "I did not
come here to be insulted."

Ellese answered before Mirra
could. "Did you think we would welcome you with open arms? The
great Demon Lord, a walking corpse, alive only because of us. You
ignored the warnings, broke the last ward, and now the Black Lord
is risen. Here you will learn to be humble, to mourn those you
killed."

"Never!" He swung away, only to
find that healers surrounded him, mostly older women, their eyes
stony. He had not yet regained all of his strength, and did not
seem to relish the prospect of trying to fight his way through
them, even if he could, which was doubtful. Apparently the thought
of their touch made him shudder, and he turned back to Ellese.

"So you all hate me. Do you
think I care? The girl said that you do not know hatred, but you
do. She lied!"

Elder Mother shook her head. "We
do not lie, that is the Black Lord's talent. Mirra does not know
hate, she is devoid of those emotions. She knows only the good
ones, which you have never heard of. We know hate, and you deserve
it, just as you deserve our pity."

"I do not want your damned
pity!"

"That has
always been your war cry, has it not, Bane? Raised in Hell, you
learnt only hatred, and the little boy in you still cries out
against the cruelties and injustices you suffered. Demons love to
taunt, do they not? Your only defence was defiance. 'I do not want
your pity! I do not want your help! I do not want your mercy!' Is
that not so,
Bane
?" She spat his
name as if it was dirt on her tongue, making Mirra cringe at her
unusual vindictiveness.

The Demon Lord became ashen, his
eyes haunted. "That is a lie."

"No it is not. I know. I was
there, with you, all those years. I shared your trials; I witnessed
your humiliation. I understand you. You have never known love,
never been touched in kindness, never been held in comfort. That is
why you are incapable of it. I wept for you, all those years. I
loved you, held you in my dreams when you crawled into a dark
corner and cried, a small boy, lost and alone, afraid."

As she spoke, the harshness left
her tone, as if telling the story of his torture reminded her of
the suffering he had endured. The memory seemed to banish her
animosity, and her face creased with sadness. She hated what he had
done, that much was obvious, but at the same time she pitied him,
and the pity overwhelmed her. Tears overflowed Ellese's eyes, and
Mirra stared at her in amazement.

Elder Mother wiped her cheeks.
"I suffered with you, trapped in Hell. I longed for your freedom.
For twenty years I have waited for this day. Mirra brought you to
me, and you do not even know her name. You have a heart, you were
born with it, and the Lady created your spirit.

"You were conceived from love
and raised without it. The Black Lord named you a curse, but you
are not. I have stood by you, all these years, I believed in you.
You come here at long last, and my heart's desire was to look upon
your face, yet you look at me as if I was something you just
scraped off your shoe."

Ellese stepped closer to the
Demon Lord, who recoiled, looking confused. Mirra wondered if
Ellese was being fair. It was too sudden. She touched his arm, and
he jerked away as if burnt, his eyes hunted. He did not understand
what he was being offered, having never experienced kindness or
love. The dark magic within him filled him with suspicion and
hatred, rejecting any kindness as trickery or worse, throwing him
into a confused emotional quagmire.

Ellese smiled wearily,
recognising his inability to accept what she wanted so much to give
him. "I know you cannot possibly understand this. You have a lot to
learn about love and friendship, trust and kindness. You will learn
to be human."

Bane had the look of a wolf who
had just found himself in the midst of a flock of exceedingly
hostile sheep. He backed away as Ellese moved closer still, his
confusion giving way to anger, clearly expecting more violence. All
of a sudden he looked his age, just twenty years, only a young man,
barely more than a boy.

"You have no right to lecture
me, or insult me."

"I do, but you
have nothing to fear from us. We mean you no harm." Elder Mother
stopped when the healers behind him hemmed him in. Mirra held her
breath, knowing how dangerous Bane could be, when trapped.
Be careful, Mother,
she thought. Ellese looked up at
Bane, who stood a full foot taller.

She smiled. "I offer you our
friendship, Bane." She held out her hand. "We forgive you for what
you have done, and welcome you to the Goddess' Temple. You cannot
be blamed for what the Black Lord made you do. He stole you from
your mother's womb and moulded you to do his will."

Her hand remained poised between
them, but Bane's stayed at his side. He glanced at Mirra, then back
at Ellese. Her words clearly did little to reassure him, and
suspicion darkened his expression.

"What do you want from me?"

Ellese let her hand fall. "Ah,
Bane, always expecting traps and trickery. That is what they did to
you, is it not? Offered a little friendship, made you pay dearly
for it, then revoked it. That is what Yangarra did, and you
destroyed him in the end. That is when you discovered the answer to
your problem. If you cannot have it, destroy it so it may not be
offered to anyone else or used against you. And once you have shown
those who dared to mock and abuse you what you are capable of
doing, they will not dare to taunt you again. I want nothing from
you but your hand in mine. Take it."

Again she reached out to him. It
seemed to Mirra that he would not take it, that Ellese's gesture of
friendship and reconciliation was wasted on a man as bitter as he.
Then her eyes burnt as Bane raised his hand. He stared down at it
as if amazed that anyone would want to hold it. He was used to
being feared, shunned, and avoided at all costs. The very concept
of friendship was alien to him, she was certain, and of love he
knew even less. The fact that he could kill the person who dared to
touch him as easily as he had done Emperor Agden was enough to
prevent most people from offering their hands in friendship.

Mirra surmised that it was for
exactly this reason that Ellese offered hers, not to test him, but
to show him that she trusted him, and did not perceive him as a
monster. Those around Bane had moulded him all his life, first the
demons that had taught him to hate, then the people whose fear had
taught him to scorn them. This was his first lesson in friendship
and trust. He did not stretch his hand out to Ellese, but she
closed the gap and gripped his. A smile of joy and relief lighted
her face, and Mirra realised that she had been totally unsure of
his reaction. His inherent human side warred with the dark power
within him, and he could just as easily have rejected her.

"At last," Ellese murmured,
smiling. "For all these years I have longed to touch you. Your
weeping haunted my dreams, and I yearned to reach out to you, but
could not. You have learnt that the greatest torture for a healer
is to feel another's pain, but be unable to help them. Imagine my
torture, to see and hear a small, innocent boy, suffering alone in
the dark, and being able to do nothing. Twenty years of suffering.
Twenty years of watching you grow from a frightened child into a
large, bitter man. It is over now, you are home." Absently she
brushed a tear from her cheek.

Bane stared down at her, his
eyes still filled with confusion. Ellese reached up and touched the
red mark on his face, where she had hit him earlier. "I am sorry I
hit you, perhaps you did not deserve it. You did not know you were
not alone. I am a stranger to you, but you are not to me."

A trickle of blood ran down
Bane's chin from his split lip. Ellese raised a hand to wipe it
away, but he leant away from her, and she let it fall with a sad
sigh. She still held his hand, and if she could, she would probably
have hugged him. Mirra had not understood Bane's strange ways, yet
Ellese obviously did, and she began to understand why he was the
way he was.

All the time she had been with
him, she had not thought to offer him friendship, give him a choice
in the matter. She had been so desperate to help him that she had
thrust her friendship upon him, and he, rebelling, had rejected it.
If only she had understood from whence his bitterness and hatred
stemmed, she might have made the same impression on him that Ellese
was making now.

Perhaps deducing that she was
putting too much pressure on him, too soon, Ellese stepped back,
releasing his hand. Bane rubbed it as she turned and walked up the
steps. Mirra started after her, but Bane stayed at the bottom,
frowning. She beckoned, and he followed with a suspicious glance at
the healers behind him. Ellese led the way into the chapel, where
Bane's boots rang on the smooth marble floor. The eternal flame
burnt at the altar, white and pure. Mirra walked past it, but Bane
approached it, his expression curious.

Ellese glanced back and shouted,
"No!"

Bane stopped as the white flame
lashed out, striking the runes on his chest. The sacred fire
crawled over him, and he collapsed with a choked cry. Mirra ran to
him, skidding on her knees to his side. He writhed, struggling to
draw breath that was denied him. The altar flame was out. Ellese
rushed to him and also dropped to her knees, her hands fluttering
above his writhing form. Bane's head was thrown back, his mouth
open as he fought to breathe, but the white fire held him. His skin
took on a bluish tinge. Ellese rose to approach the altar, holding
her hands out, palms up, in a gesture of supplication.

Her voice shook as she cried,
"Great Lady, spare him, I beg you. He is the receptacle of evil,
not evil itself. Spare him! We need him!"

The altar flame lighted, and
Bane drew a harsh gasp. The white fire had released him, and he lay
panting. Ellese returned to kneel beside him, but he sat up before
she could touch him. Mirra knew better than to try, and merely
smiled at him.

Ellese said, "I am sorry. You
went too near the flame. You must not approach it so close."

A sudden realisation struck
Mirra. "That is why you abandoned the abbey. It would have killed
him."

Bane looked from one to the
other, scowling.

Ellese nodded. "It would, which
is why, in every abbey he attacked, the holy fire was snuffed out
before he entered the chapel, on my orders."

Bane said, "You could have
killed me then, and the Black Lord would not have risen."

"No. We would have merely
delayed it for twenty years while he prepared another boy. The next
one he would have warned not to enter an abbey. Once he had solved
the problem of how to break the wards, he would not have stopped
until he succeeded. We needed you alive, up here, able to match the
Black Lord's power. And besides, we do not kill."

Bane rose to his feet. "I have
not agreed to anything other than to come here with the
healer."

Ellese nodded, and they gave the
flame a wide berth as they continued through the chapel. She led
him down one of the long, pillared walkways that bordered the inner
garden. The Demon Lord's dark aura looked out of place against the
backdrop of flowers and twinkling fountains. The healers favoured
only the palest blooms, and strived to recreate the mythical cloud
gardens of the light realm in their humble dwellings. Soft grey and
sacred white permeated every aspect of the temple and its denizens,
signifying their devotion to peace, love and life. Through this
crucible of goodness and salvation stalked Bane, death-bringer and
darkness-wielder, whose shadowy presence, clad in crimson and jet,
the colours of blood and death, sullied the hushed serenity of the
Goddess' sanctum.