NIGHTSEED [13]
By HECK


Comments to heck@heckster.co.uk

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  He did not know why, but for some reason his gaze was transfixed 
by the heavy wooden bar that held the tall doors fast shut. He 
rocked gently back and forth in the tiny metal cage that had been 
his prison for as long as he could remember. As far as his dulled 
senses were concerned, oblivious to his own stink and the caked 
filth on his clothing and in his matted hair, he could well have 
been incarcerated for his entire life. It often seemed so.
  Movement far below attracted what passed for his attention, and 
he turned his head downward. Disinterestedly, he noted the 
procession of encloaked Nightseed filing into the Atrium. They 
milled about in an apparently random fashion, but eventually 
assembled themselves into kneeling rows. A hushed but excited 
murmur of conversation reached his ears, and as he watched it 
seemed to the Fool that something of import was about to occur.
  As if on word of command, the candles in the body of the hall 
were snuffed, leaving only a pool of light surrounding the faux 
altar table. A cloaked figure stepped behind it, turning back the 
hood to reveal the face of the witch-woman Amillie.
  "Sisters and Brethren". Her voice was full of anticipation. "The 
hour of our redemption is at hand".
  Her cloak swirled as she took three steps to the door to the 
anteroom. A hush fell upon the congregation. She pulled open the 
door with a ceremonial flourish.
  V'Daa backed slowly into the room, left arm extended, a pale glow 
around his clenched fist. A huge, ominous shape followed, entranced 
by the glow of the red stone, and stepped into the candlelight.
  A collective gasp escaped the throats of the Nightseed and, up in 
the rafters, the Fool watched them prostrate themselves in 
attitudes of worship.
  "Nightseed!" V'Daa roared, never taking his eyes from the beast 
before him, holding his arm rigid. "Here is the result of all our 
designs, all our patient waiting. I promised you the Dragonkind. I 
give you the Dragonkind!
  "This is the moment our cult has been waiting for. It is written, 
'Who rules the Dragonkind, rules the world!' And as soon as it has 
fed, it will be mine to command!" He closed his eyes in ecstasy for 
a second. "On your behalf, of course", he added hurriedly.
  At his gesture, Amillie touched the nearest member of the 
Nightseed on the shoulder. "Lower the Meal", she whispered.
  The man went to the wall, where the levers that operated the 
ropes and pulleys were mounted. With a creak, the cage began to 
descend. Inside, the instinct for self-preservation brought the 
Fool to a semblance of awareness, and he grabbed the bars, looking 
down in sudden terror.
  "Hey, wait!", he called. "What's going on, here? Can't we talk 
about this?"
  V'Daa's fist never wavered from the daemon's sight. "Silence, 
Meal!"
  None too gently, the cage bumped on the flagged floor, and at 
this level the Fool could see just how big the Dragonkind was, as 
it towered over the robed figure that controlled it. He became 
seriously worried, especially by the bearded man's reference to him 
as "Meal", and began to panic, shaking the bars weakly and casting 
about in his debilitated state. The leering, predatory faces that 
stared at him increased his fear.
  V'Daa led the daemon toward the cage. Key in hand, Amillie 
advanced on the lock.

  Sitting cross-legged, hands resting lightly on her knees, Brenhya 
focussed on nothing, clearing her mind, centring herself. Nearby, 
Brannagh paced impatiently back and forth across the chamber, 
muttering under his breath.
  "Where the hells is 'e at?"
  The exclamation brought Brenhya back to the here and now. "Don't 
worry. We'd know if he was in trouble".
  In one easy, graceful movement, she rose to her feet. Lifting a 
leg high and resting her heel against the stone wall, she began a 
series of stretching exercises, touching her forehead to her knee.
  "This's a daemon we's dealin' with", the dwarf reminded her. "'E 
mights 'ave bin spirited away, already. Waits..." He cocked a sharp 
ear. "Listens".
  "What is it?" Brenhya trusted the heightened auditory senses of 
her small companion more than her own. She strained to hear. It 
seemed that, on the edge of hearing, she heard thudding footsteps 
in the corridor, getting closer as she listened. She picked up the 
Wheelbow in readiness.
  The footsteps grew nearer and, in seconds, Lon exploded into the 
chamber, panting hard, babbling incoherently.
  "Down there", he gasped. "The drag... Big ...its... Your 
friend.... cage"
  Brenhya grabbed him by the shoulders and held him firmly. "Calm 
down!", she instructed in a voice that would brook no denial. 
"Speak clearly. Tell me what you saw".
  Lon drew a deep breath that seemed to steady him a little. "At 
the end of this corridor", he explained. "There's a big room, 
behind locked doors. I could see through the gap, a little. Gods, 
Brenhya, I never saw anything like it! It's huge!" He pantomimed 
big teeth and grasping claws.  "He seems to be controlling it, 
somehow. There's a load of people in  there, too, and they all 
bowed down when it came in".
  "What about the Fool", Brenhya was refitting her arrow to the bow 
as she spoke. "You said you saw him?"
  Lon nodded, still trying to catch his breath. "He's in a cage. 
He's alive, but he doesn't look too good. I don't think they've 
been looking after him, too well. And, Brenhya..." He paused to 
swallow his bile. "...I think they're going to feed him to the 
daemon!"
  His words were barely past his lips when Brenhya set off at a 
dead run, Brannagh hard on her heels. "Get your breath back", she 
called back to him. "And do your invisible thing again".
  Hands on knees, Lon could only nod toward her receding back.
  At her full sprinting speed, she made it to the doors in less 
than a minute. She did not wait, but threw her shoulder against the 
portal. She was rewarded with a loud crack, but the doors did not 
give straight away. They were held secure by a plank that was fully 
three inches thick, but even so, her strength had been enough to 
splinter it. Another charge, and another, and the doors burst open.
  Dumbfounded by her audacity, the cloaked figures of the 
Nightseed, still prostrate before their captive daemon, turned 
their heads to see a personification of fury framed in the high 
doorway. Her magnificent body silhouetted against the glow of 
torchlight in the corridor beyond, she looked like a powerful 
avenging angel as she took in the scene before her.
  In the cage, the Fool was a babbling wreck. He looked directly at 
her, and there was a glimmer of vague recognition. As Brannagh ran 
up behind the warrior woman, a cloaked woman paused in the act of 
putting a key into the lock of his cage.
  As one man, the congregation rose to their feet, and began to 
advance on the intruders. Brenhya knew that she had to disable the 
Dragonkind before she could be distracted by these people. Drawing 
the string on the powerful Wheelbow to its fullest extent, she let 
fly at the beast. The heavy, steel shod arrow screamed as it split 
the air with two hundred and fifty pounds of force behind it.
  Her aim was true, and the arrow struck the beast in the centre of 
its muscular, scaly chest. It howled in pain and rocked back on its 
feet but, to Brenhya's amazement, it did not go down. It grasped 
the missile with a taloned hand, and pulled it free of its body. No 
sudden gush of blood accompanied the action, but merely an ooze of 
thick, tarry, greenish-black ichor.
  The man who seemed to be in control, V'Daa, Brenhya remembered, 
frantically waved his fist in front of the creature's eyes, anxious 
to reclaim its attention on the ring on his finger. It took a 
second or two, but the fascination the beast had for the gem 
quickly reasserted itself.
  But they could not take the time to wonder over this; the 
Nightseed were nearly on top of them. Producing his sharp axe from 
behind him, Brannagh began to lay about him with a vengeful fury, 
chopping his foes down at the knees even as they rushed him.
  The mighty weapon being useless, now, in this arena, Brenhya 
dropped the Wheelbow and drew her broadsword. Whirling like a 
dervish, she sprang into the middle of her attackers, the 
devastating kicks and punches she delivered doing almost as much 
damage as her flashing blade. She landed a kick to the head of one 
man that left his face in a decidedly warped and twisted state, and 
knew he would never rise again. The scything edge of her hand 
snapped several necks, and her sword took several heads and gutted 
several bodies before the swarm realised they could not outfight 
her.
  Using the bodies of fallen Nightseed as a springboard, Brannagh 
leaped onto the shoulders of the Dragonkind, heedless of his own 
safety. He clamped his hands over the reptilian eyes, and held on 
as tightly as he could. 
  "Garn, yer scaly bastards!"
  Released from the power of the ring, the beast roared in anger 
and thrashed about with its powerful arms. Brenhya saw her 
opportunity, and leapt in to slash her sword across the creature's 
belly with all her tremendous strength.
  The blade merely slid ineffectually across the glistening scales. 
She turned the weapon in her hand, so that the cruel serrated edge 
became the leading edge, and slashed again.
  The daemon howled as a small gash was opened in its belly. Ichor 
oozed from the wound, but it was merely superficial and would slow 
the beast down not at all. It plucked the aggravating dwarf from 
its shoulders, and flung him across the Atrium like a scrap of 
garbage. He hit the wall like a sack of sawdust, and lay in an 
unconscious heap at its foot.
  Unable to take heed of her companion's plight, Brenhya dodged 
back out of the reach of the comparatively slow-moving monster. But 
she immediately found herself surrounded once more by the 
Nightseed. Their numbers were fewer than before.
  Lon reached the room just in time to see Brannagh hit the wall 
and slump at its foot. Unseen, he rushed to the dwarf's side. 
Brannagh was out cold, but otherwise unharmed, but the contact with 
the beast had drained some of his lifeforce, and to Lon's concerned 
eyes he looked wizened and pale.
  Stepping in  front of the Dragonkind, V'Daa managed once again to 
regain control of the raging creature, and led it toward the cage.
  "Stop!"
  His authoritative voice rang out over the milling throng. The 
Nightseed instantly ceased their attack and fell back, and Brenhya 
was left with a man held high above her head by the front of his 
cloak, bunched in her left hand. She tossed him to one side and 
whirled to face the voice. 
  "See". V'Daa spoke directly to the beast, now. "It is she". He 
pointed at Brenhya. "She is the one who is keeping you from your 
meal". He used the ring to turn its head so the woman was in its 
line of sight. "She is interfering with the Binding. She must die. 
Kill her!"
  The Nightseed quickly retreated, as if Brenhya was contagious. 
They did not want to be anywhere near her when the beast attacked.
  The Dragonkind lifted a lip in a snarl, growling low in its 
throat. When he was certain that it had her fixed in its sights, 
V'Daa moved to one side, giving it rein to deal with this pesky 
woman who was out to deny it its rightful food.
  "Brenhya!" Lon's voice came from nowhere, and several heads 
turned to search for the disembodied sound. Brenhya's attention 
remained fixed on the daemon. "Don't let it touch you! Remember, it 
feeds on your lifeforce!"
  With an unholy scream, the beast launched itself at Brenhya. Who 
was not there. She dodged left, and slashed with her sword. She 
came up behind it and stabbed, and as it turned, somersaulted right 
over its head, eight feet from the ground, to ram her sword right 
up into its crotch.
  All of which had absolutely no effect. The Dragonkind was almost 
invulnerable.
  "Lon!", she called out. "How do I kill it?"
  "I don't know!", he wailed. "All daemons have a vulnerable spot, 
but I don't know where it is!"
  Brenhya ducked a wildly swung claw, and cartwheeled to one side. 
She stabbed at the spot where its kidneys would be, and lashed out 
a foot to try and trip it.
  A long lance, used for fighting on horseback but just as deadly 
on foot, in the right hands, detached itself from the wall where it 
hung on display. It levelled itself, and seemed to yell in rage as 
it sped towards the Dragonkind.
  Now, of course, Lon had revealed his presence, and became visible 
to all. Some of the Nightseed gasped at his sudden appearance.
  He galloped the length of the atrium, driving the heavy spear at 
the daemon's belly. The Dragonkind merely stepped aside, grabbed 
hold of the weapon, and pulled Lon toward it. A casual backhand 
sent him flying across the room to flop unconscious on the floor 
like a pile of wet laundry.
  But his intervention had given Brenhya an opening, not to say an 
idea. With a bloodcurdling yell, she drove her broadsword at the 
monster's belly, and what she had hoped for came to pass.
  The Dragonkind grabbed her sword in one horny hand, intending to 
pull Brenhya toward it. But its reactions were not a patch on those 
of the warrior and, in a display of incredible strength, she heaved 
the beast forward to close with her.
  Despite the fact that it must have weighed in the region of six 
hundred pounds, she placed her thick soled sandal in its groin, and 
fell back, flipping the black shape high on one long extended leg. 
The daemon sailed over her and landed heavily on its back. The 
floor shuddered with the impact, and several flagstones were 
cracked, but the beast lay unmoving.
  Coming to her feet in a flickering shoulder spring, Brenhya 
turned her attention to the man in charge. She advanced on him, and 
he fell back, hands held in a protective, imploring position. She 
risked a glance at the Fool, who seemed to be taking more of an 
interest, holding on to the bars and watching her carefully. Her 
other friends, although unconscious, seemed to her glance to be 
otherwise unharmed. She levelled her blade at the man's throat.
  "You, I take it, are V'Daa". Her voice was cold and even. "The 
man in the cage is my friend. I suggest you let him go. Now".
  V'Daa drew himself up when he realised she was not going to kill 
him immediately. "I'm sorry, my dear, that we haven't been properly 
introduced". His words held the arrogance and confidence of the 
truly mad. "But I'm afraid that you've meddled in something far 
beyond your pitiful comprehension. You are in the presence of 
greatness. I am the only one who can control the Dragonkind. I am 
its god, if you will, and with its help I shall rule over all. I 
shall be a true god! And as you've discovered for yourself, you 
cannot kill it. When it recovers, as it will surely shortly do, 
what can you do to stop it? I am the only one with the power, and 
you will make a tasty morsel for my pet".
  He leered maniacally. Brenhya noticed something in his eyes, a 
tiny reflection, and without taking her eyes from his, lashed out 
her long, strong left arm.
  Amillie, who had been creeping up behind with a knife, was 
knocked clean off her feet by the extended fist, and slumped to the 
floor.
  "I say again", Brenhya said, totally unmoved. "Let him go. Or 
die, and I'll find another way to deal with your 'pet'. Your 
choice".
  "No, no, no, no", the madman chuckled. "I've met your type 
before. Swashbuckling adventurers, out to do the 'right thing'. 
You're all too full of virtue and honour, all that outdated 
nonsense. You won't kill me in cold blood."
  Brenhya allowed the corner of her mouth to curl in a savage grin. 
"You sound pretty sure of yourself. Let me introduce you to another 
friend of mine". She pressed the wicked point of her broadsword 
against his throat with just sufficient pressure to break the skin. 
V'Daa gasped and the confidence in his eyes wavered as he felt a 
trickle of warmth run down inside his collar.
  A dark, looming shadow rose silently behind Brenhya. V'Daa smiled 
a feral smile, and the realisation that something was wrong flashed 
across the warrior's beautiful face in the instant that a huge, 
three-clawed fist smashed into the back of her head. She collapsed 
unconscious at the madman's feet.
  The Dragonkind stooped and reached for the feminine form, about 
to begin to feed. But V'Daa thrust the ring into its face, 
distracting it. A feeling akin to frustration welled up inside it, 
but it could not resist the enchantment.
  "Not yet, my beauty. Not yet". He called to one of the cult 
members to assist Amillie, before addressing what was left of the 
Nightseed.
  "Brothers and Sisters! This mighty Warrior was sent to test us! 
And we have passed that test! How much stronger will we be, knowing 
that we can overcome all who assail us? And what a ceremony we will 
have, with four to feed to our daemon! The Nightseed will be truly 
unstoppable! Put them all in cages, and prepare to begin again!"