Demon Lord VI - Son of Chaos Read online

  “Using that much power has had an adverse effect on my stomach.”

  “That will pass. I could give you strength, but you will have to complete your purge first.”

  “Not now. It weakens me.” Bane looked at Drevarin. “Did you carry me in here?”

  Drevarin nodded. “I could not heal you.”

  “You should not have come near me without shields. I warned you.”

  “I could not let you lie out there. You were bleeding.”

  “You are a good friend, Drevarin, but a foolish one. I might have woken and lashed out without thinking, I was... in an aggressive frame of mind.”

  Drevarin shrugged. “Even so.”

  Kayos formed a cloud couch with a wave of his hand. “You should rest, Bane. I will stay with you. I also require more sleep.”

  Bane nodded and closed his eyes, and Drevarin left them to rest. A crowd of nervous people waited outside, and its members tensed when he emerged.

  Mirra approached him. “I wish to sit with my husband, Lord.”

  “He sleeps. Let him rest.”

  “Is he well?”

  Drevarin nodded. “He is healed. There is nothing for you to worry about, My Lady.”

  “What he said -”

  “Kayos has spoken to him, and he is at peace with himself once more.”

  “Why did he say such a thing?”

  Drevarin sighed. “He was forced to share Torvaran’s foul memories when he destroyed him, and it tainted him. Speak to him when he wakes. He will explain it.”

  Mirra’s smile was strained, but she inclined her head and returned to her seat beside Mithran to share the good news with the rest of the group.

  ***

  Nikira crept to the dining room door and peered around it, ready to duck back if the Grey God was there, but only Drevarin lounged on a couch, gazing into space. Relieved, she approached him and performed an awkward bow.

  “Lord.”

  His eyes focussed upon her. “What is it?”

  “What should we do now? Do we wait here or return to base?”

  “When Bane awakens, he will decide. He may wish to banish the demon hounds.”

  She nodded, lowering her gaze to his feet. “I was wondering... I’d like to retrieve one of the swords he used in the battle, to examine it, and also the shining thing Torvaran dropped.”

  “That is a domain key.” He looked pensive. “It should be retrieved, and, since Bane is ill, he will not object if I collect it for him. It belongs to him now.”

  “May I come with you, to find a sword?”

  “No. You will attract the Hellhounds.” She bit her lip, striving to hide her disappointment, and Drevarin sighed. “If I trip over a sword on the way, I will bring it back for you, but I assure you, it is only a mundane weapon made from steel and gold, formed with the aid of the dark power.”

  “Thank you, Lord.” She hesitated. “And the key?”

  “It is Bane’s key now, so you will have to ask him.”

  “Yes, Lord.”

  Drevarin waved her away, returning to his vacant-eyed state, and she wondered what he was actually doing.

  Three hours later, Montar called to inform her that Drevarin had left the ship, and she went down to the observation room to watch him walk across the blasted land. The demon hounds ignored him as he headed straight for the key, picked it up and tucked it into his tunic before he wandered back towards the ship. Nikira smiled when he made a slight detour and picked up a gleaming sword, then she hastened to the dining room. Drevarin lounged on his couch, sipping a cup of ambrosia, and her eyes were drawn to the huge, battle-scarred sword that lay on the floor beside him. He waved his cup at it.

  “There is your prize. I hope it keeps you amused for a few hours at least.”

  “Thank you, Lord.”

  Nikira approached the sword with a sense of awe, taking in its every detail. Globs of stone clung to the gleaming blade, which must have been molten when the sword had fallen, and its keen edge was nicked and bent. The double-handed hilt was solid, unadorned gold, a functional design with no ambitions of grandeur, but to her it was a thing of beauty. Sharp-edged lines ran around the handle, affording grip, and its blade lacked the traditional blood groove. She bent and grasped the hilt, staggering as she tried to lift it and discovered its immense weight.

  Drevarin chuckled, and she raised it onto its tip, finding that it reached almost to her shoulder, far too long and heavy for a normal man to wield. It radiated cold, hinting at the power she hoped to find in it. Cradling it, she carried it down to the lab, where Drontar and his cronies huddled over their instruments. He came over when she placed the sword on a free table, his eyes narrowing as he studied the weapon.

  “Where did you get that?”

  “Drevarin brought it in for me. It’s one of the swords Bane used in the battle.”

  “Excellent.” Drontar beckoned to his fellow scientists, and they gathered around, bringing their instruments. One of them removed the globs of stone with a hammer, revealing the shining length of the gracefully tapered blade. Soon scanners and measuring devices of all sorts were being run over the weapon, but the results proved disappointing.

  “The blade is extremely pure and strong steel, much harder than stainless or even tungsten,” Drontar informed her. “The hilt is only gold-plated, pure gold would be too soft. It does contain dark power, but only a small amount, probably a result of its forming. It is, however, perfectly forged, and, although it’s far too heavy for an average man to use, it’s also perfectly balanced. The edge is razor sharp, but, as you can see from the nicks and dents, there’s nothing particularly special about it.”

  “But there has to be,” Nikira protested. “He cut rock with it. Why didn’t it shatter or bend?”

  Drontar shrugged. “Let’s put it in the stress tester.”

  The sword was placed in a formidable machine designed to exert an immense amount of pressure on an object. Drontar configured it to a three-point pattern intended to bend the blade in half. Clamps gripped the sword’s hilt and tip while it was supported in the centre. A portable scanner was aimed at the weapon, which showed trace amounts of dark power, hardly registering.

  Drontar closed the door of the armoured glass cubicle that protected observers from flying fragments when something shattered in the machine, and the hydraulic pumps whined. A digital readout showed the amount of pressure being put on the blade, and they watched the numbers climb. At first the silence was expectant, and many of the scientists wore smug smiles, then it became pregnant as the numbers approached triple digits and the blade had not bent one micron.

  “Look at this!” the scientist who monitored the scanner said, and everyone crowded around it.

  The sword’s image had turned pitch black, indicating that it was now exuding a large amount of dark power. Nikira cast Drontar a triumphant look.

  “Just an ordinary weapon?”

  “It must have dark power locked inside it, bound to the metal somehow. I thought that was impossible. Imagine how strong we could make a ship’s hull if we only knew how to do that?”

  Nikira glanced at the sword, then at the digital readout, which was now into quadruple numbers, and approached the machine’s limit. The blade was still perfectly straight. Drontar followed her gaze, and his eyes widened as the machine reached its limit and an alarm sounded.

  One of the men switched it off, and Nikira murmured, “I think you’ll find that it’s indestructible.”

  “Let’s see if we can melt it,” Drontar said.

  They placed the sword in the lab’s furnace, but, as the temperature rose, it gave off dark power again, and remained not only solid, but cool. When they removed it, Nikira ran her hand along its icy blade.

  “If it can withstand those tests unharmed, imagine what it must have taken to damage it like this.” She fingered one of the dents in its razor edge.

  “Imagine the ships we could build, if we knew how to make that alloy,” Drontar grumble
d.

  “Perhaps you should offer him a job as a ship builder.”

  “Very funny, Commander.”

  Nikira smiled and left them to ponder the amazing properties of the weapon Bane had so casually discarded, going to her office to record a report.

  ***

  The following day, Bane emerged from the hospital room, looking tired and gaunt, clad in what appeared to be a new set of black clothes. Some members of the crew stared at him, but looked away when he glanced at them, others bowed and a few saluted, but they all stayed out of his way. Nikira watched him on the monitor in her office, switching from camera to camera as he strolled along the corridors. Twice he glanced up at the tiny cameras, then he vanished. She tapped the key on her console that switched between cameras, trying to find him, and leapt up with a yelp as he appeared in front of her desk.

  “Here I am,” he murmured.

  Nikira gaped at him, horrified, then fell to her knees and performed the hated grovelling he had ordered. When she had recited the litany, he snorted.

  “I dislike being watched.”

  “Sorry, Lord.”

  He wandered around her office, studying the sparse decorations. “I hear you have been examining my sword. Did it amuse you?”

  “It’s an amazing weapon, Lord.”

  He stopped in front of her, his boots inches from her face. “Get up.”

  Nikira scrambled up, her eyes on his chest, and he held out his hand. She stared at it in confusion, then stepped back with a gasp as the sword appeared in it. He held it as if it weighed nothing and gazed at its gleaming length.

  “I did not give you permission to study it.”

  “I... Drevarin -”

  “He is not its owner, so you should not have asked him, should you?”

  “I... No, Lord, but it was just lying out there.” Nikira sensed that he was in a foul mood, and her gut clenched with dread.

  “Considering that I was unconscious after the battle, and then too injured to arise from my bed, of course it was. But you did not ask my permission to examine it.”

  Nikira bowed her head. “Sorry, Lord. But we didn’t damage it, and if you want it back -”

  “Why do you persist in making excuses for yourself? It only annoys me.”

  Nikira’s comscreen beeped, and she glanced at it, biting her lip. Bane lowered the tip of the sword to the carpet.

  “Answer it.”

  She activated the screen, and Drontar’s scowling face filled it. “Commander, the sword’s vanished. We were -”

  “It’s here, with its owner.”

  “Its... Oh, I see. Sorry to have troubled you.”

  The comscreen went black, and she looked up at Bane. “Sorry, Lord.”

  He raised the sword and hefted it. “Perhaps you would like a demonstration of its powers, since you are so curious about it.”

  Her heart leapt. “That would be wonderful, Lord.”

  “Would it?” His slight smile held no trace of amusement. “Unfortunately, I am still weak. I have risen from my sickbed only to confront you upon this matter.”

  “I did not mean to offend you, Lord.”

  “Then you should have asked my permission.” His brows drew together, and he glared at her. “You have transgressed against me once too often.”

  Bane swung the sword high, and she froze in terror as he brought it down in a sweeping arc. It sliced through her desk with a terrific bang and screech of tortured metal, sheared clear into the floor and came to a stop between his boots. The edges of the sliced metal desk glowed red hot, as did the gash in the floor, which passed within an inch of her shoes. Nikira swallowed as bile stung her throat and raised her eyes to meet his frigid blue gaze. He yanked the sword out of the floor with a shriek of metal and held the blade towards her.

  “Touch it.”

  She stepped back, shaking her head.

  “Touch it!”

  Nikira jumped at his shout and reached out to touch the blade, jerking her hand back with a startled hiss of pain. The sword was searing hot. She sucked her fingers, casting him a timid, fearful glance. He raised the weapon and gazed at it.

  “This, which you find so fascinating and powerful, is but a tool to me. It is worthless.” The sword glowed, and she retreated from the heat that made the air shimmer.

  A soldier opened the door and stuck his head in, spied Bane and ducked out again with a curse. The Demon Lord ignored the interruption and raised his hand to caress the weapon’s red-hot blade. She choked back a cry of horror. He smiled and stroked the burning metal, then the blade folded and sagged into a glowing lump, which he hurled at the wall. Nikira yelped, but the molten metal vanished before it struck the wall. Bane swung to face her, and she cowered.

  “Do not anger me, Nikira.” His husky voice caressed her name. “When I have my power, I am not patient with fools and upstarts. I am told that you also wanted to see this.” He reached into his tunic and withdrew a shining object that glittered like a star. “It is a domain key, as I am sure Drevarin told you. Would you like to touch it?”

  She stared at it, fascinated, unable to resist nodding even when all her instincts screamed at her to run away.

  “Good.” He stepped closer. “If you do, it will kill you.”

  Nikira backed away, snatching back the hand she had stretched out towards it. The wall ended her retreat, and she raised her eyes to meet his, her gut trembling.

  Bane cocked his head. “No? If not for the demon hounds, you would have gone out there and stolen this too, would you not?”

  “No! Not stolen, just looked at it, that’s all.”

  “Without my permission. What is it about me that inspires such contempt in you?”

  “Nothing! I-I don’t feel contempt for you at all!”

  He thrust the key closer. “I have not seen what this does to a mere mortal. Perhaps it will suck the marrow from your bones, or maybe it will simply turn you to ash. Shall we find out? It will be an interesting experiment. You are fond of experiments, are you not?”

  “No! Please!”

  Bane placed his free hand on the wall beside her head and leant on it. “I hate it when people grovel before me and worship me. I am human, just like you. I would like to be treated as an equal, with one small exception. I think I deserve a little more respect than you have shown me, with your resentful mouthing of the words I ordered you to use, and your arrogant assumption that you could examine things that do not belong to you.

  “As if the torture you inflicted upon me was not bad enough, you now presume to insult me with your lack of deference. I dislike that.” He leant closer, his breath fanning her cheek. “What do I have to do to get a little respect around here?”

  Nikira’s knees threatened to buckle, and she stiffened them. “I do respect you.”

  “Now you are arguing with me. Is that respect?”

  Tears of terror and confusion stung her eyes. “I-I don’t know how to behave around you. I don’t know what you want from me.”

  “I have just told you.”

  “I’m sorry, for not asking your permission... Lord.”

  “That is better. I can be your friend, or your foe, which would you prefer?”

  “A friend.”

  “Good. Hold out your hand.”

  Nikira gulped and held out a shaking hand. Bane pushed himself away from the wall and placed the glimmering key in her palm. She gasped in shock as a wave of warmth coursed through her from it, bringing with it a trembling awe that shook her to the core. Bane swung away, his cloak flaring, and threw up his hands.

  “At last, a little obedience without questions and arguments.”

  Nikira stared at the shining key. “It-it hasn’t killed me.”

  “No, of course not.” He faced her again, his slight smile sardonic. “I am not a killer, am I, Nikira?”

  “No, Lord.” Finally understanding, she fell to her knees. “I... I was wrong, Lord.” She closed her eyes, shaking her head. “Please forgive me.”<
br />
  “That certainly took a lot. Do you think that key is something wondrous and powerful?” She nodded, and he snorted. “Well it is not. It is a simple artefact that emits a signal that opens a domain gate, or, in the case of that one, many gates. It is just a tool forged in a light realm. It is less sophisticated than my sword, and I could destroy it even more easily. Yet it is not for you to study, any more than my sword was, or, for that matter, me.”

  Nikira bowed her head under a mountain of shame, this time not because Drevarin was angry with her for what she had done to Bane, but because she now knew why it was so wrong. Kneeling before him was no longer humiliating, instead it uplifted her, and she comprehended the joy and adoration that shone in the eyes of the people who had been with him when they had captured him.

  Bane came over to stand in front of her. “Kayos cleansed your soul when he blessed you. That is why you can now accept the humility of faith, but your people are not so fortunate. Your domain is in disarray because your god sleeps, and your people are reborn tainted. We will return there as soon as I have banished those demon hounds. Get up.”

  Nikira stood up and raised her eyes to his, holding out the key. He took it and tucked it inside his tunic, then waved his hand at her desk, which reformed to its original condition, the gash in the floor closing as if it had never been. He turned and went to the door, where he paused and glanced back.

  “There was a time when I was a killer, and I am still a liar. Do you fear me now?”

  She smiled. “No, Lord.”

  “Good. Your punishment is ended.”

  Bane vanished through the door, which slid shut behind him. She sank down on a chair and clutched her chest, where the strange warmth was strongest. The realisation that she loved him hit her like a bucket of cold water, and she wondered when it had happened. Recalling how she had felt when he had been her prisoner, she knew that she had loved him even then, perhaps from the first time she had been in his presence. She wanted to go after him, and glanced down at her wrinkled dress with a grimace.