rays that cut across the open space of her bedchamber were alive with sparkling motes. By the angle of the beams she could tell it was midday.
“What is it?” Shaella snapped rather harshly. The young zardess recoiled with a hiss. Not conversing, or even communicating with Gerard for the last few tortuous days had taken its toll on Shaella.
“The priests are calling for you, Mastress,” the zard girl hissed. “They have caught something in their trap.”
Shaella sat up quickly. “The priests have caught the High King?” she asked to make sure she had heard correctly.
“Yesss,” Fslandra hissed. “The priests are calling for you.”
“This is wonderful news, Fslandra.” Shaella stood and strode to the wash basin. “Get me my armor,” she commanded as she began to cleanse her naked body with a soft cloth.
A few, short moments later, she was looking like the imposingly powerful Dragon Queen that she was. Under a studded leather girdle, blackened Harthgarian mail shimmered like scales, as she made her way down to the gazebo where the red priests had erected their temple.
To Shaella’s delight, Ironspike was lying unsheathed on the altar to her lover. The High King was lying on the wooden floor beside Princess Rosa.
“How long will they stay like that?” Shaella asked.
“Indefinitely Your Highness,” one of the priests said.
“Unless we lift the stasis,” added another.
“No, don’t do that,” Shaella told them. She leaned down and looked into Mikahl’s eyes. She gave him a big gloating smile. “Does he see me?” she asked as she stood back up.
“Were not sure,” one of them answered. “He’s still able to blink, so it’s likely.”
“Would you like us to kill them now?” the third priest asked. He was hovering over Princess Rosa. The girl’s raggedy clothes were torn and one of her breasts was exposed. Shaella gave him a disapproving look that caused him to back away from her.
“The Princess is to remain unmolested,” Shaella barked. The look on her face made clear that she was serious. “I may have need of her in Dakahn.”
She dismissed the priest by smiling broadly past him at the person who was approaching across the lawn. It was Flick. He was grinning and nodding as if he were impressed with the sight before him. “He really isn’t much is he?” the wizard said as he came to stand over Mikahl.
“Not without that,” she pointed at the sword lying on the altar. “I was just debating over what I should do with him.”
“Take your time,” Flick suggested. “Ra’Gren has need of us once more. It seems he is about to try a run into Wildermont through the Seareach Passage again. His men will be decimated if you or I don’t lend our assistance. I would have gone already myself, but I thought that you might enjoy a chance to unleash Vrot on Jarrek’s troops.
“It seems that you’ve become a mind reader as well as a great wizard,” she told him. “I think a ride on my dragon is exactly what I need. You’re coming on the Choska?”
“Of course, Mastress,” Flick said with a flourishing bow. “With both of us there to harry Jarrek’s archers, the Dakaneese troops should be able to retake the passage with ease.”
“Ra’Gren’s fools will find a way to muck it up,” Shaella said, showing her distaste for the King of Dakahn with her expression. “They are so dependent on their slaves that they’ve grown lazy and weak. It makes me almost ashamed to be half Dakaneese.”
“What are we to do with the High King?” one of the red priests ventured.
“Leave them where they lay, both of them. I will post a potent guard around the altar before I go. Make a prayer to my lover telling him what you’ve done here, but do not disturb him otherwise.”
Commander Escott gave Master Wizard Amill a dubious look. “Do you really think it will work?”
“That demon can’t be in two places at once,” said Amill. “I think that, with what Queen Willa and General Spyra are doing to aid King Jarrek, it will all work out in the end.” He turned to the tattoo covered commander. “At least as long as it still looks like all our troops are stalled over here when the sun comes up.”
“Making five thousand men looked like ten thousand isn’t so hard at a distance,” said Escott. “It’s making them look like twenty thousand men that’s the trick.”
“My spells will hold as long as your men don’t go scattering about.”
“After the last debacle I think that they’ll do anything you say, Master Wizard. You saved a few thousand of them from getting roasted.”
The night after the first crossing attempt failed, they’d tried again. They stormed the bridge in a great snaking line of soldiers, six abreast. Once across, they went in three separate directions, forcing the demon beasts to go to extreme measures trying to stop them all. It seemed to be working until the monstrous thing began using its magic. Demon fire, in hot emerald gouts, clung to flesh and earth alike. Only a powerful wall of force that Master Amill cast into existence between the demon and the retreating troops saved them.
Hopefully, sending fifteen thousand men north to the bridge at Oktin under the cover of night would allow them to get past the demon so that they could attack O’Dakahn as planned. The new tactic would work if Commander Escott’s men, and Master Amill’s spells, could convince the demon that the Seaward force was still across the river from them waiting.
“We’ll learn in the morning if they suspect anything,” Master Amill finally said.
“The light of day will surely tell the tale,” Commander Escott had to agree.
Gerard saw them-pairs of eyes in the blackness. There were thousands of them, and they were everywhere. Some were brighter than others, some bigger, or farther away, but all of them were looking at him. They backed away as he passed, giving him ample room. Some of them did this out of respect, but most of them backed away out of fear.
From all over the hells, the demons and devils, as well as other things, had come to witness the impending battle. They gazed in awe at the only creature that ever grew bold enough to try Deezlxar a second time.
Gerard was tense. By all rights Deezlxar could set these things on him. So many attackers at once would be impossible to overcome. The Master of Hell was vain, though; the Abbadon chose not to destroy Gerard that way. He would make an example of the thing that had challenged him. Deezlxar knew that if a creature like Gerard could come maul him and get away with it, soon, other power hungry entities would try him. Such was the way of things in the Nethers.
Deezlxar wasn’t ready to hand his domain over to the likes of Kraw or Shokin just yet. He was ready to destroy Gerard, though, and he planned on doing it in fantastic fashion.
The shape of the archway that led into Deezlxar’s chamber could be seen by the deep crimson glow of all those eyes. As Gerard strode cockily up to the arch, a hissing murmur echoed through those gathered around. The buzz of anticipation was intense. The time was at hand.
Gerard learned a lesson last time. Deezlxar wouldn’t just fold under his dominant will like the other malignant creatures of this place had. Gerard’s quickness and savagery weren’t going to be enough. He had to be not only faster, but smarter. It was with that thought that he darted into Deezlxar’s chamber.
As expected, the Dark One was ready too. There were no threatening words spoken this time. The snapping teeth of one of the Abbadon’s heads, and a powerful sweep of his long spidery limbs and the battle began. After dodging the severe fangs that clacked closed just in front of him, Gerard would have been batted away by the club like appendage coming at him, but he expected such an attack this time. He flashed away in a flurry of rose and lavender sparkles, reappearing behind the Dark One. Then, with a vicious series of hacking slices, he tore into the great devil’s tail stalk. He couldn’t get all the way through the heavy member before the creature spun, but he did manage to sever the bony central core where the tail’s nerves and tendons were.
Deezlxar whipped around, but without his tail to stabilize his momentum, he spun too far. Gerard, like before,
