Part 61 (1/2)
Upon hearing Shalee say, ”...This kingdom will celebrate tonight,” the Book mumbled to himself in the language of his former being-the native tongue he used before he a.s.sumed the role of Protector of the G.o.ds' Laws. ”Pey diaoness afor ey gads modain u creton,” which meant, ”Yet another law the G.o.ds have failed to create.”
After exhaling his disgust, Gabriel teleported back to the demon queen's palace. The Book did not waste any of his moments and addressed Sharvesa. ”As I was saying, Your Highness ... upon your ascension, it would be my desire for your kind to wors.h.i.+p you and not Lasidious.”
Sharvesa stood from her throne and walked down the steps. She scanned the faces of the council who remained on one knee. ”Does this gathering believe that all demons, red, white, green and those of other forms, would wors.h.i.+p me if I was to accept Gabriel's proposal?”
Shadrowayne stood from his seat that had been provided for the demon council members. The horns that protruded from his forehead were long, indicative of his many seasons, and the muscles throughout his torso were lean and well-defined. The white demon took a step forward, placed his claws together and then bowed to his old flame. ”My Queen ... all demons respect your position. I believe that all demons would wors.h.i.+p you. As the leader of this council, I would recommend that we all abandon our service to Lasidious and begin speaking your name in our prayers. I can think of no other G.o.d that I would rather wors.h.i.+p ... though I shall continue to revere Lord Lasidious since he has been a generous G.o.d to our kind.”
Upon hearing Shadrowayne's pledge, and seeing that the other members on the demon council were nodding in agreement, Sharvesa turned to Gabriel. ”Then it is settled. I accept your proposal, and I'll allow the demons of the worlds to wors.h.i.+p me.”
Gabriel floated to a position in front of Sharvesa. ”Kneel, and accept your gift of enlightenment. You are now the Collective's new G.o.d of War.”
Southern Grayham The City of West Utopia The Peak of Bailem George returned to Luvelles just long enough to leave Joshua with Mary. Kepler retired to his lair, Brayson left to retrieve Maldwin from the Merchant Island, and then George teleported back to Southern Grayham. He was standing in front of an inn that was located above the cliffs, just east of the city gates of West Utopia when he appeared.
What a dive, George thought as he looked up at the sign that hung crooked on a set of chains. Who would be desperate enough to sleep here?
The inn was called The Utopian Queen, but nothing about its appearance resembled any sort of utopia. Even the wood the porch was made of looked distressed and abused. Some of the nails securing the planks were sticking out, and as he walked across the porch, the wood rocked beneath his feet.
Once inside, George scanned the room full of rickety, defaced, wooden tables that were surrounded by mismatched chairs. Throughout the seasons, patrons had carved everything from slanderous comments to pictures of animals into the tabletops and the back of the chairs. He looked beyond the hodgepodge that was filled with undesirables for Marcus, but the Dark Chancellor was nowhere to be found.
George took a seat and waited for the bartender to approach. ”Excuse me, have you seen a man-”
”A man like me?” a voice responded from behind.
George turned to look. Sure enough, Marcus had made it this far.
The warlock took hold of Marcus' forearm. ”The rat told me you decided to stay on Grayham when I spoke with him this morning. Do you realize how hard it is to find someone who doesn't want to be found?”
Marcus took a seat beside George. ”Two ales,” he commanded, raising his hand to summon the barkeep. ”See to it that they're cold.”
The bartender scoffed, then pulled his rag off his shoulder. The hair beneath his s.h.i.+rt stuck out from under the edge of his collar as he tossed the rag onto a hook that was beside the tap before he responded. ”You'll get the ale as it's always served. Hmpf! Cold ale. Whoever heard of cold ale?”
George reached out and grabbed Marcus' arms to keep the Dark Chancellor from using his magic. ”Hey, hey, hey! You can't go around ending people for not having cold ale. This isn't Luvelles. It's a more primitive world. Just chill the drink yourself.”
Marcus sneered, ”What a waste of a race.”
George tapped the edge of the bar with his knuckles. ”What made you decide to stay on Grayham anyway? Don't you want to be the Head Master anymore?”
The Dark Chancellor stood from his stool and pushed his long, black hair clear of his face. ”I don't know why I decided to stay. For some reason, I feel the need to go to Brandor.”
”That's odd,” George replied as if he had no clue why the chancellor felt the way he did. The warlock stood from his stool, chugged his ale and then patted Marcus on the back. ”Let's get out of here. We need to shoot the garesh for a bit.” George tossed a Yaloom on the counter and headed for the door with Marcus in tow.
As the bartender swiped the coin off the counter, his eyes widened. He bit the coin to be sure it was real. As the doors swung shut, he called after them, ”Come back as often as you'd like!”
George led Marcus north along a dirt road that followed the cliffs above the coastline. Once the warlock was sure they were by themselves, George continued the conversation. ”Perhaps you decided to stay on Grayham because your subconscious is guiding you.”
”My sub-what?” the Dark Chancellor responded.
George put his right arm around Marcus' shoulders. ”The back of your mind is what I'm talking about. You know, the voice inside your head that talks garesh to you. You already know what you want to do. I think it's brilliant.”
Marcus' brows furrowed. ”What are you talking about?”
”Come on, man. You know. If you go to Brandor to end their king, you'd be both the ruler of Southern Grayham and the Head Master on Luvelles by the moment you're done. You could rule two worlds and teleport between them ... once you've looked into the Eye, of course. But I bet you knew that. h.e.l.l, all you'd have to do is put someone in a key advisory position in Brandor who answers directly to you. I bet you already know who that person will be.”
Marcus shook his head. ”I never even considered such a course. My mind ... or this subconscious you speak of, has not led me in that direction.”
George removed his arm. ”Hmmm. Perhaps I've given you too much credit. It sounds like you're not as cunning as I'd hoped. Too bad. You could've accomplished so much more than just being the ruler of one world. You could've controlled the lower three. Perhaps I need to find someone with loftier goals.”
Marcus stopped walking and turned to find George's eyes. ”I didn't say my goals couldn't be adjusted, but wouldn't this be a conflict of paths? Why would you hand this much power to me when you could have it all for yourself?”
Without responding, George changed direction. He descended a long staircase that had been attached to the side of the cliff to get to the sh.o.r.eline. The warlock removed his boots, rolled up his pant legs and then waded into the water. He watched as the waves crashed against the beach, and for that moment, everything felt peaceful.
George closed his eyes to smell the ocean breeze. A long series of moments pa.s.sed before he turned to face Marcus. ”What are you waiting for? Come into the water!”
Marcus grunted and then took off his boots. Once he was standing next to George, the warlock answered his previous question. ”I have bigger plans than ruling the lower three worlds. I intend to become a G.o.d. When that Peak comes, I'll expect your loyalty.”
Marcus laughed. ”You're mad! I would not wors.h.i.+p you. Not even for a single Peak.”
Without hesitating, George used the back of his hand to slap Marcus across the face. ”You'll do as I tell you!”
The Dark Chancellor reacted with lightning reflexes. He reached into his cloak, drew his blessed blade, and with a fluid motion, he stabbed George in the stomach.
George smiled as the tip of the blade failed to penetrate his skin. Even his tunic remained unscathed. The warlock grabbed the weapon, pulled it out of Marcus' hand and then tossed it onto the beach.
Marcus tried to react. He extended his arm to command the weapon to return to him, but quickly realized he was unable to finish the command or move further.
George grinned. As he circled the Dark Chancellor, his blue eyes turned cold. The warlock reached out and stroked Marcus' face only to follow it with a stinging slap. ”Did you truly think you could end me so easily?”
Again, George backhanded Marcus. He allowed the chancellor to topple into the waves. George turned his hand over and then extended his palm. He used his power to hold Marcus beneath the water. Many moments pa.s.sed before he allowed the chancellor his first gasp of air.
George dunked Marcus again and again until the chancellor slipped into unconsciousness. The warlock whipped his hand in the direction of the beach. Marcus flew through the air and landed on the sand with a thud.
George was quick to follow. As he stood over the chancellor, he used his foot to roll Marcus to his side. The warlock cupped his right hand under Marcus' chin, used his power to shock the wizard into consciousness and then waited for the chancellor to spit up the water he had swallowed.
After rolling Marcus onto his back, George straddled the chancellor and then leaned over to place his face only a hand from Marcus'. The warlock relished the fear in the chancellor's brown eyes as he grabbed his chin.
George hissed, ”Do I appear insane, Marcus? Don't ever doubt me. I'm capable of accomplis.h.i.+ng anything I set my mind to. This includes ending you. I'm only 23 seasons, and yet I've found the power that you have failed to find in over 700.”
Marcus managed a weak response. ”Please ... forgive me.”
George stood and pulled Marcus to his feet. He had to use his power to keep the chancellor from toppling over. Once he was sure that Marcus was strong enough to remain erect, the warlock put his arm around the chancellor's shoulders. ”It sounds like you and I will be able to work together after all.”
Still shaken, Marcus nodded. ”I'll do as you command.”
”Perfect. That's all I wanted to hear.” George took a seat next to his boots. As he brushed the sand off his feet with his socks, he continued, ”There are some things that I want you to accomplish. First, I want you to end...” The conversation continued.
Western Luvelles Later That Peak Just Before Late Bailem George appeared outside his home. To his delight, the family had gathered. Brayson had returned with Maldwin from the Merchant Island, and a large bonfire was ablaze near the mound of rocks that sat above Kepler's lair. The evening air was crisp, and the clouds were threatening to storm. Despite this threat, everyone was bundled up and had gathered to enjoy each others' company.
As expected, Gregory Id was present. His curiosity about Susanne had been piqued by Brayson. But the White Chancellor was not the only guest who had chosen to attend. George had also asked Brayson to invite Boyafed and Lord Dowd, and both army leaders were standing near the fire, each holding a mug of ale.
George addressed the warriors as he approached, ”Lord Boyafed, Lord Dowd.” The warlock reached for their forearms. ”Thank you for coming.”