There were other, older promises that bound her. There was the geas she had willingly taken with the fighting-gifts bestowed by Need, and the pledge she had made as a White Winds sorceress to use her powers for the greater good of mankind. And by no means least, there was the vow she had made before all of Liha'irden; pledging Tarma that one day she would take a mate (or mates) and raise a clutch of children to bear the banner and name of Tarma's lost Clan. Only death itself could keep her from fulfilling that vow. And it would kill Tarma should she violate it.
She stared back at the demon's inhuman eyes, defiance written in every fiber.
He flared with anger. 'You are the more foolish, then!' he growled -- and backhanded her into the wall as casually as he had Warrl.
She was halfway expecting such a move, and managed to relax enough to take the blow limply. It felt rather like being hit with a battering ram, but the semiconsciousness she displayed as she slid into a heap was mostly feigned.
'You will find you have ample leisure to regret your defiance later!' he snarled in the same petulant tones as a thwarted spoiled child.
Now he turned his attentions to Tarma.
'So -- the nomad -- '
Tarma did her best to simulate a fascination with the demon that she did not in the least feel.
'It seems that I must needs petition the swordswoman. Well enough, it may be that you are even more suitable than your foolish companion.'
The heat of his gaze was easily dissipated by the cool armoring of her Goddess that sheathed Tarma's heart and soul. There simply was nothing there for the demon to work on; the sensual, emotional parts of her nature had been subsumed into devotion to the Warrior when Tarma had Sworn Sword-Oath. But he couldn't know that -- or could he?
At any rate her attempt to counterfeit the same bemused rapture his brides had shown was apparently successful.
'You are no beauty; well, then -- look into my eyes, and see the face and body that might be yours as my priestess.'
Tarma looked -- she dared not look away. His eyes turned mirrorlike; she saw herself reflected in them, then she saw herself change.
The lovely, lithe creature that gazed back at her was still recognizably Tarma -- but oh, the differences that a few simple changes made! This was a beauty that was a match for Thalhkarsh's own. For a scant second, Tarma allowed herself to be truly caught by that vision.
The demon felt her waver -- and in that moment of weakness, exerted his power on the bond that made her Kal'enedral.
And Tarma realized at that instant that Thalhkarsh was truly on the verge of attaining godlike powers, for she felt the bond weaken --
Thalhkarsh frowned at the unexpected resistance he encountered, then turned his full attention to breaking the stubborn strength of the bond.
And that changing of the focus of his attention in turn released Tarma from her entrapment. Not much -- but enough for her to act.
Tarma had resisted the demon with every ounce of stubbornness in her soul, augmenting the strength of the bond, but she wasn't blind to what was going on around her.
And to her horror she saw Kethry creeping up on the demon's back, a fierce and stubborn anger in her eyes.
Tarma knew that no blow the sorceress struck would do more than anger Thalhkarsh. She decided to yield the tiniest bit, timing her moment of weakness with care, waiting until the instant Need was poised to strike at the demon's unprotected back.
And as Thalhkarsh's magical grip loosened, her own blade-hand snapped out, hilt foremost, to strike and break the demon's focus-bottle.
At the exact moment Tarma moved, Kethry buried Need to the hilt in the demon's back, as the sound of breaking glass echoed and re-echoed the length and breadth of the temple.
Any one of those actions, by itself, might not have been sufficient to defeat him; but combined --
