David Drake - The Gods Return

"Yes, your majesty," Munn said. "My worst enemies have never deniedthat." He smiled, an expression that Garric had seen often on the more chiseled features of the ghost in his mind. It had no humor, but there was a fierce, unquenchable joy. Lord Munn raised his sword to a slant across his chest, his right hand leading. Turning, he strode toward the flood of light. His bare feet whipped swirls from the exiguous remains of what had been a block of marble. Tenoctris was chanting again. Garric wasn't sure she'd ever stopped: he'd been so focused on Lord Munn that anything less threatening- "I've seenbloodyfew things that were more threatening than that fellow,"

Carus said. -might have gone on without his notice. Munn halted, his massive body silhouetted against the radiance, and shrugged to loosen his muscles. He hunched slightly. Then to both Garric's surprise and his ancestor's, Munn strode forward and vanished in the blaze of light. Garric opened his mouth to call, but closed it in silence.

Shouting at a rainbow-lighted slab of marble seemed pointless even in his present state of surprise. He turned to speak to Tenoctris. She sat as she'd done from the start, chanting in the soft rhythm of a lullaby. He shouldn't-and probably couldn't-disturb her. I could ask the nymphs. "Watch the place he went through the wall," said Carus harshly. "It may not be him that comes out. And it wouldn't hurt to have your sword ready." Garric grinned wryly. He left his sword in the sheath, knowing how swiftly his ancestor's reflexes could clear it if need arose, but Carus was right that they weren't here to ask questions. There was a change. At first Garric thought that it was his imagination or an overload on his eyes, but the stream of light through the wall really was growing fainter. He risked a glance back at Tenoctris. Her eyelids slumped and her body swayed, but she continued to chant softly. Lord Munn stepped out of the wall. He too swayed. Without thinking, Garric strode to the big man's side and steadied him, a hand on his left elbow and a hand on his right hip.

The play of sinews and muscles beneath Munn's skin was more like that of a horse's body than a man's. The light stopped, leaving only its memory and darkness. The wizard's incantation ceased as well. "Have I done my duty, your majesty?" Munn said in a voice of rusty thunder.

"Yes, milord," Garric's lips said, but it was the king in his mind who was speaking. "The ones who send our sort know that we'll always do our duty, don't they?" Lord Munn laughed. "Help me outside, your majesty," he said. "It's been a long time." He laughed again. "It's been ages, hasn't it?" They shuffled through the doorway. Garric was supporting much of the big man's weight, but Munn still carried his sword. It had come back with a violet sparkle on both edges, but that faded by the time they were out of the temple. Tenoctris got carefully to her feet. Normally Garric would've been helping her, but his present duty was to Lord Munn. "I'll sit here," Munn said. Garric squatted, continuing to take more than his own weight on his shoulders. The big man bent with a caution that was painful to watch.

"Milord?" Garric said. "What can I get you?" "You can return me to my rest, your majesty," Munn whispered. He leaned back, at first on his elbows, then lowering his back to the turf. He sighed and closed his eyes. He said, "Take off the armlets. You have to do it yourself-I can't." "Yes, milord," Garric said. He was whispering too. He carefully worked off one silver band; Munn took that hand from his sword hilt, then gripped the weapon again when his arm was bare. "Give the armlets back to the girls, though, your majesty," Munn said. His voice was scarcely audible. "Because you may need me again. I will do my duty if you call me." Garric pulled the second fillet clear; the muscular body fell again into a rack of bones. Garric rose to his feet. "Of course, milord," he said softly. "Your worst enemies could never doubt that." Garric held out the fillets to the nymphs. They giggled and traded the bands; he'd offered each the wrong one. They whispered among themselves, but Garric turned his back on them: he only wanted to get out of this place. "Tenoctris?" he said. "Are you ready to go?" "Yes, Garric," she said. "Though you may have to help me." "Yes," said Garric, putting his arm around the wizard's waist and letting her grip his shoulder. "That's my duty, after all." Together they walked through the woodland to where the boat would be waiting to return them to the waking world. *** Up close, Cashel saw he was looking at more of a palace than a castle, though just the same it was built to make it hard for anybody to break in. The windows on the ground floor and the one above were too narrow for anything bigger than a cat to squirm through.

Those on the top floor used to be barred with thumb-thick iron. Now several grills sagged in the moonlight, meaning the hinges had rusted through. Cashel didn't have to worry about climbing up there and wrenching an entrance, because the front door was ajar. The edge stood a hand's breadth out from the jamb, and blue light flickered through the crack. He grinned. It'd been a stout door when it was new, but age and lack of care had been hard on it too. There were statues in niches to either side of the doorway, slender stone demon-looking figures with pointy faces and nasty smiles. One was male, the other female; and while Cashel didn't think much of them as art, either one would make a fine battering ram for a man strong enough to lift it off its base and slam it through the swollen wood and corroded iron straps.

Cashel guessed he was that strong. He glanced down at Rasile. "Ma'am, are you ready?" he said. He noticed the Corl's nose was wrinkling, so he added, "Do you smell anything?" "Besides the brimstone, you mean, warrior?" Rasile said. "Not to notice. Apes have been here, but your little friend had told us that." "Right," said Cashel. Instead of putting a hand to the door, he worked the end of his staff between the panel and the stone doorpost, then pulled it fully open. There was a short alcove, just wide enough for a doorman to stand. Nobody was there, and the inner door was already swung back into the vestibule beyond. Cashel walked in, his staff slanted and ready to strike in any direction. The wall facing the vestibule had a doorway to both the right and left; the blue light was coming through those openings.

Between the openings was a solid wall painted to look like a view into a garden. The plants looked like they'd been shaped from human bodies, and instead of birds flitting among them, there were lizards with a lot of teeth walking on their hind legs. On low pillars were marble busts of a man and a woman, facing each other instead of looking toward visitors coming through the doorway. They'd been handsome people, both of them, but they had nasty expressions. "Ready, ma'am?"

Cashel said, glancing toward his companion. Rasile held her athame in a fashion that reminded him that it reallywas a knife even though it'd been carved from black stone. She nodded curtly. Cashel strode through the right-hand door into the circular room beyond. The floor was onyx.

There were several closed doors off it, framed in colored marbles. The walls were otherwise plain, and there wasn't any furniture. A woman's head was set into the center of the floor. Flames as blue as sulfur blazed from her nostrils as she breathed; that was what the light came from. She'd been the model for the marble face in the vestibule.

Another statue. It only seemed to breathe. "Have you come to help me?" the head demanded, spurting blue fire with each syllable. "Help me and I will help you… but youmust help me." "We were told Milady had taken our friend Liane," Cashel said. "We're here to bring Liane back." Milady laughed like glass breaking. "I'll let your Liane go when I'm ready to, hero!" she said. "The woman came to me, and she'll stay with me till you've done my bidding. Help me and I will help you!" Cashel looked at the head, just looked at it and thought. Rasile was standing back a little from him, but he didn't say anything to her till he figured things out for himself. "Don't think you can strike me!" Milady said. From the way her voice went up in pitch, she thought he could do that and also thought he might try. "It wouldn't help you anyway! My servants will hurl her from the top of the tower if anything happens to me." Every time Milady's mouth opened, another gout of flame licked out and the sharpness of brimstone got thicker.