Swords clashed, spears jabbed and plunged their way through bodies; arrows whizzed through the air dropping many a hapless victim. The nevii took no part in the fighting, but watched and hoped for a favorable end. So, at long last the battle between good and evil came to an end.
The bodies of the dead, including Dahnay’s, lay scattered about at the foot of the Hills of Saragoza, their souls soon to spend another cycle at the Realm of the Undying. The general, the nevii, and about a dozen of their men still stood. Iskinder and his forces all lay dead, slaughtered to the last one of them.
“What now?” asked the general of the nevii.
“You have done what I doubted was possible, General,” the nevii responded. “Now I can gather the selected souls from this realm to be welcomed by their maker.”
“What about my daughter?” the general inquired impatiently, anger in his voiced, “You promised!”
“I will honor my word to you, General. I will lead you to the River of Fire and Poisons. On the other side of it you will find your daughter.”
“And Garone? Where do I find him, for I too have to honor my word to a wizard?”
“Worry not about the horned demon. He will find you.”
The general, wanting to waste not another moment at taking his daughter home, instantly departed with the nevii for the River of Fire and Poisons. Some hours passed before they arrived at their destination. Before them was a terrifying scene. It was nothing like the general had imagined.
“General,” the nevii began, “I present to you the River of Fire and Poisons.”
It was a river of red hot flames, fueled by a bubbling greenish yellowish liquid of an indescribable nature that flowed beneath the flames. The general had to keep many paces from the river for the heat was such as to instantly incinerate him even if he stood on the shore.
“What is the liquid?” the general asked.
“Poisons, general,” the nevii responded, “Vipers, scorpion, spiders, devil’s mushroom, wasp, and countless others yet to be seen in the land of the living.”
“How do I cross this river of evil?”
“We wait, general.”
“For what?”
“For me,” came a gentle voice from behind the general.
The general turned around. The voice had come from a man who stood behind him. He wore elegant white robes, well-made boots, and a fine sword that hung from his waist. He was the handsomest man the general had ever seen.
“Who are you?” asked the general.
“I am Garone. I am your daughter’s taker.”
The general stood still, staring at the man is slight disbelief.
“What did you expect, General?” the man asked, “A beast with tentacles, one eye, teeth like a leopard’s, scales like a lizard, claws growing out of my hands, and perhaps the forked tongue of a serpent’s?”
“Be you the devil, or be you the devil not, but since you say you are my daughter’s taker, by my sword I’ll run you through.”
“You wear the tailbone of the Bruth so I must fight you with a mortal weapon.”
The general’s sword flashed out of his sheath and he sprang towards the demon ready to run him through. He failed. Faster than anyone could have ever imagined, the demon had swiped his sword out of his sheath and easily warded off the general’s blow, forcing him to crash to the ground. With not a moment to spare, the general was back on his feet, forced now to rethink his combat strategy against the demon. Though he was not of the land of the living, the demon seemed quite efficient with the weapons of the living.
The general engaged the demon again, but this time, more mindful of his enemy’s skill. They clashed, thrust, cut, and slashed at each other, and even tried to push each other into river of Fire and Poisons, each one trying to make a quick end of the other. But soon the general began to tire. He had spent many sleepless hours with neither food nor sleep, and had fought for his life and his daughter’s for almost all of those hours. His wound from the ant-like creature continued to bleed, weakening him as the moments wore on. Garone only seemed to grow stronger. The end of the general was close at hand.
And then a sound came from across the River of Fire and Poisons. It was music from a harp. Music such as had been played by the general’s daughter. For a brief moment the fighting stopped. Both sides looked across the river. The general saw nothing. But that meant his daughter was close. At that moment his spirits were lifted. His pain was gone. He would now fight with every ounce of strength to save his daughter. He sprang at the demon with a force so strong that the demon was taken aback. His sudden burst of energy could be stopped by nothing, for it was driven by the love of his child. The demon attempted to slow the general down but it was no use. Before long, the general drove his sword through the demon’s body. It shrieked and dropped to its knees, disbelief in its eyes.
“I curse the fate of every human soul!” gasped the demon as the life drained away from its body. It fell on its stomach. It was then that the general noticed the small horn at the back of the demon’s neck. That was the prize the Wizard of Sheba had asked for. The general pull out his dagger and hacked off the horn of Garone which he placed in a pouch in his garments. His eyes then wondered to the territory on the other side of the river, where the music of the harp continued to be played.
“Where is my
