The Godlost Land (65 page)

In the end Erislee did nothing. She just stood there in shock while Dina gravely thanked the man for his message and sent him away. Then she sat her down and made her a cup of the tea. And all the time Erislee remained frozen, unable to act. Unable to think. Not even when Dina started making the arrangements to send messages of condolence to the family, and of course to inform Harl of the shocking news. Because no one would have told him. He was not her husband. The news was already weeks old and he wouldn't yet know.

Harl, her sister's lover and the father of her child. Erislee was appalled with herself that she hadn't thought of him. But grateful that Dina would send him the message, because she simply didn't know what to say to the man. She owed him her freedom and her life. To bring him this sort of news seemed a terrible way to repay him for that. A cruel way. Especially to a man who had already lost so much. His home, his life, his family, and now his lover and his child. How could one man be punished so terribly? What could he have done to deserve such a fate?

And then there was Nyma. Her older sister. Her warrior sister. The one who was reckless and fearless, and unbelievably skilled with her blade. Killed in a place of peace. Killed when she was finally becoming a mother instead of a warrior. It was wrong. But she knew it was a story that so many others had surely heard a thousand times before. No one had suffered more in these last five years than the innocent and peaceful. They had been sacrificed mercilessly.

They were the reason the hunt had been called. This wasn't a hunt for food. It wasn't to show skill or daring. This had always been a hunt for that most terrible of prey – the man-eater. And it was that knowledge that eventually pulled her back to herself and let her carry on with her duties even as the tears flowed down her cheeks and the sobs forced themselves from her throat. Even when she wanted to fall down and die. First her mother and now this. It was too much.

The pain was there. A mass of grief and shock that simply would not go away. She suspected it always would be with her. But in the end she was a huntress. The Goddess had chosen her to be that. And she had prey to hunt.

These Circle wizards would be taken down.

Chapter Sixty Two

Terellion sat on his throne staring out over the throne room and wondered for the thousandth time how his life had come to this. How could the Blind Mistress of Fortune have so turned her back on him as to leave him here in this disaster, soon to die? It was unfair. It was as though Tyche truly hated him.

Everything had gone wrong. Xin had betrayed him. He was at war with both the High Priestess and the demon king. Less than half his wizards and soldiers had made it back from the rest of the five kingdoms to stand with him in the city of Lion's Crest. Far less than half. The city itself was in ruins, the walls were broken and despite their attempts at repairs they would not survive forever against the High Priestess. And now the city was slowly being surrounded.

The war masters swore that all the work they had done in preparing for the siege would protect them. For many years maybe. But he was king! Ruler of the five kingdoms! And now he was king of only one city. Worse he was trapped, and in time he would be killed. Even if the city held for as long as the war masters promised it would, old age would claim him eventually.

He had tried to find a way through of course. He would have surrendered if it would have helped. Giving up the rest of the Circle had seemed like a useful strategy, and they would all of course surrender their worthless lives to save him. But riders sent to meet with the High Priestess had been sent back with a simple message – prepare for death. No truce, no peace, no deal and no surrender. No Circle wizard would be allowed to survive. Even weeks later he still couldn't believe that.

The bitch was mad.

Fleeing had seemed like a good option as he sat there, but it could never happen. Not any more. He no longer had the wizards he needed to facilitate his escape. Far too many had died. Not enough powerful wizards of the earth remained to tunnel out and escape. And though he could try flying with a wizard of the sky, when Dina was out there that would be a short journey to death. Probably by falling.

As for dimension, the only one of the Circle who had had that magic had been Maynard. He could have opened a portal and crossed half the world in a heartbeat. But when he had died he had condemned Terellion to death. Selfish bastard!

For a while he had had hope that holding the other five Circle wizards hostage would save him. And it still might. There was always hope that the bitch was bluffing. But his envoys had been sent back with only three words in response to that threat – “So be it.”

Naturally he had had them killed for their failure. After they had been tortured of course. Such a terrible failure deserved only the most severe of punishments. But even killing them didn't bring him any surcease from his pain. It didn't change anything.

How could the bitch say that? How could she be so reckless with not just the kingdom but her own life as well? She knew what would happen. He kept asking himself that. But in the end she was a woman and he knew women weren't so predisposed to reason as men. They were emotional creatures, little more than animals really, and the bitch was angry. Maybe locking her up for so long had damaged her in some way? Whatever the reason, she was letting that emotion rule her, and she would sacrifice everyone and everything to kill him.

In time he hoped that she would see reason. That some tiny piece of sense would come to her. Or if not her then at least her war masters. But his own war masters weren't so hopeful. They said she was a woman on a crusade. That the determination of one very angry Goddess worked through her and that she would kill them all in the name of her pestilent Goddess. Artemis' divine fury would not allow her to do otherwise. He was thinking about cutting their tongues out like the others for saying that. But he knew it wouldn't help.

The High Priestess was a mad bitch. She was going to destroy his city. And all just to catch him and kill him. Then his great life would come to an end. He wouldn't allow it.  If only he knew how to stop it!  Not when it appeared she didn't care that killing him would kill everyone else.

Women! Why had the gods even created them? Really, they should never have been given the ability to think let alone speak. It only caused problems.

With all that on his mind he wasn't pleased to hear a noise, and then to look up and see that some miserable thrall had come to bother him. In better times Terellion would have killed him for the annoyance – or at least punished him properly. But he couldn't do that. The man and his beasts might preserve his life for a few extra minutes when the battle came.

“My lord.”

The man bowed, startling Terellion. No one called him that, and few did more than nod respectfully to him. Certainly none of the thralls, and this man was dressed in the robes of the priests and bore the mark of the demon king on his wrist. As he himself had once done. Obviously if he was bowing his control over the man was more powerful than he'd realised. But then some people resisted less than others. Weak minded people. Like women.

“What do you want?”

Terellion had little time for the man when the High Priestess and her army was very nearly camped outside the city. He had little time for anything save trying to survive the attack when it came. Least of all the thralls. Still, the man would be useful when the time came when he could control some of the beasts. And he was loyal, now that he was under Terellion's control. Which was probably why he was addressing him in that way.

“To serve you my lord.” The man bowed even lower.

“I know that!” Terellion snapped at him. The man irritated him. Even though it wasn't his fault that Terellion's magic had completely overwhelmed him, he still annoyed him. “Why are you bothering me?”

“This was found in the traitorous Varrious' quarters and it was thought it might interest you.” The man suddenly held out an arm, and in his hand was a vial of milky white liquid that sparkled with its own light.

For a moment Terellion didn't understand what it was that he was holding. What could be so important about it that the man would bother him with it? But then realisation took hold and his heart almost stopped beating there and then.

“Living essence!”

Terellion blurted the words out in shock. He couldn't quite believe that he was seeing the little glass vial of the precious elixir in front of him. After searching for it for so long! It was a miracle! Proof perhaps that Tyche at least hadn't completely deserted him. She might have taken everything else from him but the Blind Mistress had still offered him one tiny shred of hope. One sliver of a chance of survival and dignity. Abruptly Terellion stood and grabbed the vial of living essence from the man and clutched it to him. He would never let it go!

“Varrious had this?”

Terellion didn't understand why. The man was still fairly young and had no need of its restorative properties. Nor had he been injured – at least before Terellion had had him tortured – so its curative properties didn't matter either. Certainly it was far too precious for such a miserable worm to have. But maybe his demon king master had given it to him? Why though he didn't know. Trade possibly. Maybe to get more lives sent to him in return?

What Terellion did know was that the essence would be of no use to the man. If he still lived. Locking him away in the dungeon beneath the temple with his furies had seemed like a more than suitable punishment. So close to the gate which was barely twenty feet above his head, but unable to either reach it because he was in chains, or use it because Terellion had locked it. And he was surrounded by furies that terrified him, especially when he could barely control them at the best of times. Now of course they would be harder to control as they like everyone else grew hungry. He wasn't sure if they were still being fed. If indeed any of the chimera were. Despite all the war masters plans to stock up on supplies it seemed they were still running short. But he was sure that when the last of the food ran out, they would get hungry. And Varrious was food. Varrious was a man at his end, chained to his cell, crippled and broken and waiting to die a terrible death. Terellion had enjoyed devising the punishment for him.

“Yes my Lord. It was hidden but my fury found it.”

Hidden. That at least he understood. If he'd had such a treasure he would hide it too. Save that now he wouldn't. He would keep it on his person at all times, ready for when he needed it.

“Thank you, you can go now, knowing you have served me well.”

Terellion dismissed the man with a brusque wave and heard him leave, his eyes all the while trained on the vial of sparkling milky fluid in his hand. It was the most precious substance in the world! And it was finally his. After all this time!

He so wanted to gulp it down there and then. Every fibre of his being was telling him to simply pull the stopper from it and upend the vial into his mouth. But he knew that that would be a mistake. The vial might work for a little time or a long one – he didn't know which. But it would only take some of his years from him; it would not grant him immortality. More than that though he needed it for when the battle finally began and he would have to defend himself. It would only cure wounds immediately it was drunk. Even if this returned a few longed for years of life to him, if he was wounded later it would not save him. The living essence was too precious to simply waste. So until the time came he would have to wear it.

But it offered another hope. If it was as powerful as the sages said, it would make him young again for a while. And the High Priestess was looking for an old man. With it and some magic he could escape. He could live out the rest of his life somewhere else.

Then again, the living essence would do the one more thing for him that he wanted desperately. It would restore his potency to him. For a short while or a long one, he would be a man again. And then he would have his bitch! He would have her as no man had ever had a bitch before. And if this thing was as powerful as the sages claimed it could be, he might be able to have her until the battle itself. That was days, maybe weeks away. And for all of that time he could be enjoying her and her sisters. And his attendants too! And anyone else who caught his eye.

To not take it until that final day and then to be killed before he could use it as he wanted to, that would be a terrible mistake.

What to do? Should he save the precious elixir in the faint hope that it might save his life when he needed it most? Or use it now and enjoy his last days and weeks in the world, knowing that when the time came he would have no such hope, no matter how faint? It was a dilemma. And he knew it would probably be a decision that he would wrestle with for a long time.

But he also knew it was a good decision to have to make. Finally, after all this time, something was going his way.