Robert Newcomb - The Scrolls of the Ancients

Seeing Serena, the women stopped what they were doing, stood, and bowed to her. Turning, Serena looked questioningly back to Wulfgar.

"They are your new handmaidens," he said to her. "I selected them myself, from the few R'talis slaves who remain alive. Their minds are now ours, and they have been granted the benefits of the time enchantments. They are yours to command for all of eternity."

"My lord's gifts are truly great," she said, smiling. She took one of his strong hands into hers and kissed it gently.

"Come," he said, beckoning to her. "There is more."

He led her toward the open side of the room, where two thrones of black marble sat overlooking the sea. On either side of the thrones stood a huge, freestanding column of dark red marble. Each of them was circled by garlands of violet flowers, and topped by a shallow black urn in which burned a bright flame.

From the edge of the shiny floor a series of wide, dark green marble steps led down to the sea. The stairway was lined by more freestanding columns, each topped with a flaming urn. The steps emptied out onto a broad terrace that lay just above the waves that continuously rolled over its leading edge. The clean, salty sea air drifted up to Serena and stirred her dark ringlets.

The train of her magnificent black gown snaking along behind her as she went, Wulfgar's queen walked tentatively over to touch the smooth, cool marble of one of the thrones. As she did, it was as if the massive seat of power suddenly sparked something deep inside her. She could feel her R'talis blood, graced as it was by the presence of so many Forestallments of the Vagaries, begin to swirl hotly, quickly through her veins. And like her lord, she was filled with the urgent need for their sacred mission to begin.

Krassus walked over to touch Serena's arm, bringing her back to the moment. Smiling, the wizard walked her back over to Wulfgar, and the three of them looked out over the sea.

"Come," Krassus said to them simply, and they descended the marble steps to the terrace. There, Serena could see that their entire fleet of slaver warships had stopped patrolling and had formed a massive, protective ring in the sea before them. Within the ring lay a great expanse of open water.

"Bring them, Wulfgar," Krassus said quietly. "Bring them all. They're yours to command now, by way of the gifts I have imbued into your blood. Bring them, so that your queen may know the many that now do your bidding."

With a nod to the wizard, Wulfgar turned to face the sea and raised his arms.

Almost immediately the vacant area of ocean surrounded by the demonslaver vessels seemed to come alive with huge, swirling eddies. Then the watery tornadoes rose from the ocean and into the air: dark, impenetrable maelstroms. As Serena watched breathlessly, they started to glow and turn colors, spinning so fast that they became fluid riots of alternating hues. Wulfgar spread his fingers.

As he did, several of the screechlings that made up one of the packs spun off and flew to where the three of them were standing. After circling them for several moments, the screechlings returned to the maelstroms that continued to whirl just above the waves.

Suddenly, another area of the sea began to churn, and Serena saw hundreds of menacing serpentine heads rise up slowly out of the sea. Their eyes were yellow and slanted with vertical black pupils. Each of the menacing heads was covered with dark red scales, and was a good two meters across. Pink, forked tongues slipped in and out of mouth slits as the creatures tested the air. Occasionally the beasts' forked tails would rise up out of the water, only to submerge again as they slithered their way through the waves.

Suddenly, Serena noticed a softly distant pounding. It grew in strength, soon blotting out every other sound, even the crashing of the waves against the edge of the terrace. Looking up, she saw the source of the rising cacophony.

In their eagerness for their mission to begin, the thousands of white-skinned demonslavers aboard the warships were standing at attention on the decks, relentlessly banging their swords on their shields.

Wulfgar finally lowered his arms and turned to his queen. She saw a determined, powerful look in his eyes that she knew could never be conquered. As the ceaseless pounding continued, she turned back to the sea and took his hand. Krassus smiled.

Fifty-five

W hen Tristan first heard the knock on the door, he wanted whoever it was to go away and let him sleep in peace. Why couldn't they all just leave him alone? Hadn't he done enough?

He rolled over, hoping whoever it was would go away.

The knocking came again, even more insistent this time. Tristan realized that it sounded more like someone kicking at the door, than knocking on it. Shannon the Short, he thought, sent by Wigg to come and wake him up.

He threw off the sheets and hobbled stiffly over to the chair in the corner, where he grabbed up his trousers and pulled them on. Then he went to the door and opened it.

Celeste stood there, smiling at him. She was dressed in black, form-fitting riding breeches, black knee boots, and a low-cut, yellow silk blouse that was ruffled at the neck and wrists. Her dark red hair tumbled down over her shoulders. Tristan could smell the familiar fragrance of myrrh, and it helped to awaken his senses. In her hands she held a large silver tray, its contents covered with a lid.

She gave him an unnecessary, highly coquettish curtsy. "Are you going to make me stand on ceremony all day, Your Highness, or are you going to let me in?" she asked. Then she nodded at the tray in her hands. "After all, I bring gifts."

"Oh, over here," Tristan said. He led the way to the opposite side of the dim room, where he drew back the drapes and opened the stained-glass balcony doors, revealing a bright, clear day.

Celeste, her eyes on the tray, followed him and carefully placed the food on the balcony table.

"How much of the day has gone by?" he asked sleepily.

"It is nearly midday. You have had only five hours of sleep, but I'm afraid it's going to have to do. We are due to meet the others in the courtyard in one hour."

She lifted the lid from the tray. "Spotted quail's eggs," she said with another smile. "Poached, just the way you like them-or so the gnome wives in the kitchens tell me. Cured ham slices, gingerwheat toast with violetberry jam, and tea-extra strong and extra hot. And all enough for two."

She placed her hands on her hips and turned to look at him. Then she puckered up her mouth and shook her head.

"You're a mess," she said, giving him a grin. She took in the shadows on his face from not having shaved, the comma of dark hair lying down over his forehead, and the dirty trousers. "Shall we eat first, or do you wish to bathe?"

"Eat," he said with authority as he poured himself a brimming cup of the dark, hot tea. He took a sip and felt its warm goodness go all the way down. "Bless you," he said as he gingerly sipped some more.

Suddenly remembering he was still half naked, he put his cup down and walked back over to the chair to fetch his vest. As Celeste watched him go, for the first time she saw the angry, still-healing scars across his back, and her eyes went wide with concern. As he walked back to her, he looked up from lacing his vest and immediately understood.

Taking her hands into his, he saw that her eyes had become shiny.

"It's all right," he said softly. "They don't hurt as much as they once did." Reaching out, he touched her cheek.

"Did Krassus do that to you?" she asked, her face darkening with anger.

"In a way. These marks are from my time on the slave ship. One of the demonslavers did this."

Celeste looked down for a moment. "Then he shall have to answer for what he has done," she said, so softly he could barely hear her.