Wolf Moon Part 10
"You failed me!"
A fist slammed down on the tabletop.
"Yes, Master."
"I don't abide failure."
The statement was growled with such venomous malice that the Shadow Spy found it difficult to sustain its shape. Involuntary undulations rippled the outer outlines, fluttered around the edges and threatened to punch holes in its vaporous torso.
"There were not enough Soulless Slaves, if I..."
"SILENCE!"
Eyes that were normally ice blue blazed with fire. The Lord of Darkness centered his angry orbs on his shadowy agent who shrunk back from the twin points of crimson.
"Give me a reason not to dispatch you to the trade winds and be rid of your incompetence forever."
"I am still a valuable spy." the agent declared, although the tremble in its voice lacked conviction.
"I have many spies."
The Dark Lord leered down at the mock-human mist hovering above the floor. "I will have one less if you dissatisfy me again."
"What is your bidding?"
"Are the Warriors of the Rose on the Aragon road?"
"Yes, Master. I need only a night to curse the dead and raise an army then the quinque will pay a heavy price for their meddling."
The Dark Lord rubbed his stubbled chin. Candlelight flickered amber across his eyes that had cooled from fire to ice. "No, let them reach Twilight."
"But Master..."
An angry glare signaled for silence. The wispy agent held its tongue.
"Let the three become five. Let them believe they will be victorious, yes, that will make their defeat much harder to bear.
I don't want them dead," the Spy's superior stated, "not until I've broken their spirits and claimed their souls. Maybe then I'll grant them merciful release. Maybe.
Follow the three and report to me when they reach Twilight. Don't fail me." he hissed out the Spy's final warning.
The properly chastised Shadow Spy bowed as best he could then, with an apparitional aspect, floated to the window and wafted through a crack between the bottom frame and sill.
With a sigh borne of frustration, the Lord of Darkness raked blond bangs from his eyes and settled down behind a banquet table marred by deep scratches, dried candle wax and wine and food stains that had ruined the wooden surface. Another ingrained substance that looked like old blood added to the permanent discoloration.
He slouched down in an upholstered chair's dingy blue velvet cushions. The aged, crumpled fabric had lost its luster and reflected the generally unkempt conditions of Lord Khushrenada's dank subterranean fortress.
Stale smoke drifted about the chamber's wide expanse. Flames wavered in a large stone fireplace and lapped up the blackened sides with orange-tinted tongues but the fire did little to brighten the sullen atmosphere.
Nothing warm or radiant had touched the great room, not for a long time. The result of apathetic neglect that had become a normal pattern of life, a thick coating of dust and ash also dulled the other sparse furnishings.
Lord Khushrenada and a dwindling number of miserable servants were all that occupied the wintry rooms craved from stone. There were field workers, the blacksmith and stable hands but he seldom had contact with that part of his subjugated workforce.
The Lord of Darkness had an army but the bulk were soulless beings trapped in shells of decaying flesh and brittle bones. There were spies made of mist and dreams creepers that wormed into the mind during sleep but both forms of supernatural soldiers were difficult to supervise.
The Elite Guard, humans hired for Khushrenada's personal protection, were mercenaries whose level of loyalty varied with the sum of money he was willing to pay.
Only a handful of men were permitted access to the Lord's inner sanctuary but his paranoia concerning their allegiance had eroded his trust in anyone or anything leaving him abandoned to his madness.
Half-eaten food from midmeal remained strewn over the tabletop. The kitchen servants who had been warned of their master's moodiness, worse than other days, had procrastinated in their retrieval duties preferring to avoid his unpredictable and often volatile temper.
Two wine bottles had already been drained of their fruity contents, a third bottle sat nearby. A shaky hand closed around a goblet. Ruby liquid sloshed over the goblet's side as the Lord's altered senses misjudged the pouring but enough wine made it into the brass cup to satisfy his immediate needs.
Absentmindedly Khushrenada dipped his index finger into a purple puddle shimmering on the table. The finger was lifted to his lips and inspected by a darting tongue before being licked clean.
The shrill sound of squeaky hinges lanced across the chamber. As the uninvited visitor closed the distance to the table, Khushrenada's unfocused eyes glanced up to follow a slender figure draped in a hooded cloak of coarsely woven material.
Stringy stands of gray hair hung loosely below the hood that concealed the man's dark brooding eyes and pale, wrinkled face.
"I was wondering when you'd grace me with your presence." Khushrenada stated sarcastically before taking a long sip from his cup.
The mysterious figure tilted his head studying the Dark Lord's pathetic demeanor. "You know you need me." was whispered lowly.
Khushrenada finished the wine in one gulp and slammed down the goblet. The clang of it striking echoed sharply in the great room's vacancy. "I need no one." he proclaimed in slurred words.
Resting his elbow on the table, he realigned his slumped posture and locked his blurred sight on the cloaked intruder whose unwelcome appearance had disturbed his solitary imbibing.
With a huff Khushrenada grabbed up the bottle then decided to skip the pouring and decanted the fermented liquor directly into his mouth.
He frowned as the bitter dregs burned his throat. "What do you believe you can do for me?" he inquired dangling the empty bottle from lax fingertips.
"Deliver the wolf into your hands," came the hissed reply, "and include the whole of the renegades as well."
The Dark Lord perked up at the mention of his rival's name. A thin smile tugged at his lips. "Ah...Chang." The smile faded. "Be careful what you promise." he warned, "You know how I deal with those who don't keep their word."
The hooded figure didn't seem the least bit troubled by Khushrenada's stern pronouncement concerning failure to follow through on the purposed deal. "You know I can do it." he stated with surety.
The Lord of Darkness rose slowly. Trembling hands braced on the table and he centered his unsteady frame before standing completely. "Don't worry about the bastard's comrades." he declared with deceptive calmness. "Their fates will be sealed by my whims."
Shoulders straightened. Fire sparked in previously cloudy eyes. Khushrenada's tranquil facade exploded. "That beast will taste my retribution, upon my soul he will suffer by my hands." he screamed, hurling the bottle at the wall with all the power he could muster.
The glass popped then shattered into a thousand glistering shards. Again the enigmatic figure offered no visible reaction to the Lord's fit of impassioned hatred.
"I understand." came the faintly whispered reply.
Khushrenada's chest heaved in labored breaths. His unbalance body bumped painfully against the table's corner. He flopped down into the chair and wiped his moist brow. "Put your plan into action."
"As you wish."
Leaving no room for misunderstanding the Dark Lord cautioned, "General Septum, do not disappoint me."
*********
Morning stretched into noon. Noon journeyed towards evening. For the last two hours the warrior trio had walked alone.
Sparrows, starlings and brown thrashers twittered in the treetops. An overabundance of crows cawed raucously at the intrusive humans. A woodpecker tapped out a hollow tune and a pair of mocking birds sang a duet of assorted songs.
Silhouetted against the clear, blue sky, a hawk caught an updraft then glided in lazy circles. Its haunting trill carried on the breeze causing Duo to crane his neck to spot the sleek bird of prey.
Heero brushed a cinnamon fern's velvety fronds away from his face and copied Duo's inquisitive posture.
"There." Duo pointed towards the cloudless firmament. "Isn't it beautiful?"
Wufei shielded his eyes for a better view of the magnificent winged creature. "Go on."
"I can't."
"Go on." Wufei urged, "It has been too long."
Heero started to ask for an explanation of the disjointed conversation but the yearning in Duo's eyes offered the answer. "You'll have no trouble catching up." the Tracker added his encouragement.
Duo glanced skywards then back at his comrades. "Thank you."
Heero laid his hand on Duo's shoulder, "Say hello to the angels for me."
In less than a heartbeat, the Duel Spirit replaced the Irishman. Tawny feathers, highlighted with auburn, shone in the sun and powerful wings propelled Duo on a heavenly path.
The magical falcon joined its kindred hawk and together they dipped and soared in an aerial dance metered by the wind's tempo.
"Beautiful." Heero sighed as he watched with envy from his earthbound location.
Wufei nodded in agreement. "Yes he is."
*********
"Michael." The Dark Lord yelled his personal servant's name.
"MICHAEL!" was repeated with increased volume. "Where is that son of a bitch?"
"You called, sire?"
An elderly man, shoulders stooped and eyes lowed in timid apprehension, waited just outside the door. Michael remained quiet, staring at the floor, hoping he wouldn't have to venture too far into the Lord's lair.
"Find Odin and send him to me."
"Yes, sire." Michael bowed respectively then backed into the hall and disappeared before his moody master could issue any more orders.
Khushrenada slumped in his chair. His head throbbed and his stomach churned but his mind was quite lucid. Thoughts of torture temporarily subdued the insanity. Plans of pain bestowed on Chang Wufei granted a few moments of pleasure.
"You sent for me?" The unexpected question jolted Khushrenada's already frazzled nerves and brought his wicked imaginings to an abrupt halt.
Odin stood halfway in the shadows as if he had one foot in the dim room and the other on the stairwell descending to hell. He was a muscular man, trim not bulky, set on a solid frame. Light brown hair fell in confusion about his swarthy face. Deep set eyes reflected nothing but cold calculation.
His most prominent feature was a ragged scar running diagonally from his left eye's outer corner across his cheek to the jaw line.
The Dark Lord waved to his hired henchman, encouraging him to continue his inward trek. Odin stepped from the gloom with a noticeable limp, favoring his left hip and leg.
"Sit." Khushrenada motioned to a second sooty chair.
Odin eased down trying to arrange his weaker side in a, if not totally comfortable, at least a tolerable placement.
"Septum was here." was stated with icy contempt.
"What did he want?"
"He claims he can capture Chang Wufei." Khushrenada paused to trace his finger over a nick in the table, "The cocky bastard promised the rest of the Twilight warriors as well, including the Demon Tracker."
Odin leaned forward, as much from acute interest at the mention of Chang as to realign his aching leg. Pain was a constant companion and sitting always aggravated the condition.
It had been that way every day since Odin's lengthy recovery from his clan's clash with King Peacecraft's army on the Elon River Plateau. That fateful battle had served to intensify his fervent loathing of Aragon's royal family that he shared with Khushrenada.
"Do you think the pompous ass can make good on his scheme?" Odin wondered. He knew Septum's combat reputation, however the General frequently let his ego overrule his tactical training.
"I don't know," Khushrenada admitted, "but he's been warned not to disappoint me."
Odin mulled the possibilities over in his mind. "If the quinque were eliminated, the King would not only lose value counsel but the Tracker's exorcism expertise. He'd have to battle an earthly army as well as your legions of the damned," he stated, "and it can prove vexing when you can't kill something that's already dead."
The Dark Lord raised an eyebrow as his thoughts fell in line with Odin's logic. "Yes, Peacecraft couldn't possible stand against both armies. A double assault would surely guarantee his defeat."
Odin shifted in his seat. The careful rearrangement was not accomplished without a sharp twinge shooting through his leg. His winced and swore under his breath.
"With your knowledge and superior leadership no one can equal your command abilities."
A thin-lipped smile tugged at Khushrenada's lips. While the Dark Lord put Odin's lofty declarations of his warring supremacy in their proper perspective and while he knew how easily false praise flowed from his Captain's fickle soul, he still couldn't argue with the shrewd mercenary's assessment of the circumstances.
Odin continued with his own pleased smile, "I have many excellent ways to inflict great misery and each manner of extreme agony will be set to your discretion."
Khushrenada's smile widened. Vile delight shone in his eyes. "With Peacecraft's advantage neutralized he'll quickly lose his willingness to fight and will have no choice but to surrender."
The Lord of Darkness leaned over the table and locked his sight on Odin. "I tell you truly, Peacecraft WILL capitulate to my authority.
Unfortunately for Aragon's King, even after he abdicates for his people's sake, he'll still have to atone for his multitude of sins against me and for those unforgivable transgressions I'm afraid he can not be allowed to live.
Chang will also pay for his foul deeds. The beast will suffer for my exile to this forsaken place, not with his life but his soul. I want the whore-spawned traitor locked away in my dungeon's deepest regions where he will spend a lifetime sealed away in absolute isolation.
But first he will watch as his comrades are brought step by excruciating step to their live's conclusions. The process will be drawn out over days, perhaps weeks, until he begs me to release them from their anguish.
When Chang's spirit is absolutely broken by his friend's beseeching screams for mercy. When their prolonged torture is etched on his mind and heart, I'll do what is barely required to keep him clinging to his mortal existence and each night I'll send the dreams creepers so he can experience the horrors again and again.
He will feel my pain. He will understand my hopelessness when there is no one left to rescue him, to save him from his despair. His pitiful plight will drive him into the same inescapable madness I endure daily.
After I imprison Chang's body and his mind becomes caged by his insanity, after endless lamenting, I'll personally send his black soul to hell and finally be granted a peaceful spirit."
A barely audible whisper accented the Dark Lord's forlorn disconsolation. "I've suffered too long; the fates would not be so cruel to deny me victory."
This time no amount of repositioning provided Odin relief. He braced his hands on the chair's arms, balanced his weight on his good side and stood up by gradual degrees.
When Odin's feet were squarely beneath him, Khushrenada's Captain affirmed his confidence in providential intersession whether by fate or the Ruler of Sheol. "It will be so, my Lord."
The Dark Lord rose and walked around the table. "Go and await my orders. Very soon we'll moved against the Warriors of the Rose. When Chang and his impotent companions are under my power we will besiege Deep World and destroy Peacecraft's Kingdom."
TBC...
Back to Karen, The Huntress's Fanfictions Page