Barlowe, Wayne - God's Demon

impotently.

Patting the steaming Nebiros phalera in place upon himself, Faraii gazed for a moment at Astaroth. Faraii tilted his head like a stonemason regarding a block, envisioning it in its reduced form. He was an artist, after all.

'You have no intention of bringing me before Sargatanas, do you?'

Faraii paused. 'No.'

'Are you no longer loyal to him?'

'His crusade is not mine.'

'Be careful, Baron. Remember what you see here at Maraak. When you are facing him across a battlefield.'

'Sound advice, indeed, from a broken, old demon. I will be doing Hell a favor by destroying you.'

Faraii backed up slowly, leaving Astaroth alone in the circle of Shock Troopers. Faraii caught Eligor's eye, held it for an instant, and then turned away grinning. Whether it was upon a signal from the Baron or not Eligor never knew, but he saw the troopers set upon the kneeling demon with a fury. He closed his eyes. Their ferocious snarls and the sounds of the Great Lord's demise lingered terribly in the air.

Eligor opened his eyes in time to see Astaroth's Great Seal fade away. He saw that Faraii was nowhere to be seen and saw, too, his lord and Valefar arrive on foot, their gaze flashing over the scene.

'What is happening here?' Sargatanas said to Eligor over the din. 'Where is Lord Astaroth?'

'He is no more, my lord. There was nothing I could do.'

Sargatanas' eyes widened. 'Who did this, Eligor? Who disobeyed me?'

Eligor's insides twisted. The admiration, the loyalty, and the closeness he felt for Faraii were suddenly unclear. But his fealty to Sargatanas was not.

'My lord, Baron Faraii's Shock Troopers committed the deed; the Baron did nothing to prevent it,' Eligor blurted, realizing his mistake immediately. 'In his defense, however, he fought heroically; your goals could not have been achieved without him.'

'One of my goals, Captain, was Astaroth's survival.'

'Yes, my lord.'

'Where is the Baron, now?' said Sargatanas, probing the outside ranks of troopers. They had regained their feet, forming a circle once again, and stared sullenly at him, avoiding his eyes.

Sargatanas strode forward, falcata in hand, pushing brusquely, angrily, into the troopers. He was no Astaroth, weakened and old, but instead was capable of wondrous acts of carnage—a fact not lost on the assembled warriors. Not accustomed to being swept so easily aside, they reacted with baleful, hissing intakes of breath and nothing more.

Sargatanas found Faraii at the circle's center crouched, with Astaroth's disk in hand.

'Baron, what has happened here? Why have you disobeyed me?' The ominous rumble was unmistakable.

'My lord,' Faraii said, rising, 'it was not I but my troops. They destroyed him.' He paused, shaking his head. 'You did not see him ... in the miserable condition he was in. My troops, in their overzealousness, did him ... and you as well ... a service by ending his life.'

'You decided this? On your own?' Sargatanas' faceplates shifted, and even from where Eligor stood, he could see that the new configurations were threatening. Flames atop the demon's head blossomed wildly.

'I neglected to give my demons explicit orders regarding his disposition; that is my fault.' Faraii's free hand nervously played with the hilt of his sword. 'But as I said, my lord, he was a broken figure ... pathetic. He would have asked for that end ... a noble end ... if he had been thinking clearly. But clearly the battle's outcome affected his—'

'So you did the thinking for him ... and me as well.'

'His demise saved everyone much trouble.'

'Not yourself, however. You will return immediately to Adamantinarx, where you will consider yourself confined to your chambers. Only your exemplary past service to me is keeping you alive, Faraii.' He reached out and plucked the disk from Faraii's hand.

The Baron dropped to one knee, saluted, and rose. Without a backward glance he walked stiffly through his troopers, who, in turn, filed away with him.

'Valefar,' Sargatanas said, 'you and Eligor are done here. Send the legions on to Askad. I must remain and go in and secure Astaroth's wards. Or what is left of them.'

Valefar nodded and sent out the command.

Sargatanas regarded the Astaroth disk, holding it tightly, and sighed. And then, with reverential solemnity, he put the disk to his breast, where, with a bluish glow, it fused.

* * * * *

Many hours passed before Adramalik felt he could approach the place where, from afar, he had seen Astaroth destroyed. The Duke had already withdrawn and was heading back to Dis via a discreet route, and Sargatanas' legions were well into Astaroth's wards.

The Chancellor General walked with some difficulty through the turbulent darkness of the storm, its winds seeming to delight in gusting the knee-high ash up into his face. The only sound upon the once-tumultuous battlefield was that of the wind-driven grit that pelted his bony armor. He climbed the cairn that he had watched Sargatanas' troops build from the rubble of dead legionaries and stared up at the commemorative sigil that hung above it. It had been a marvelous victory, one worthy of his own lord—complete in its outcome, merciless in its