The Caravan
Gessam Ibn Korrishk fell to his hands and knees in a dark alley, panting and huffing from exhaustion. It was night in the city of Gessal�lashk, the greatest city in the Southern Deserts of Gaelia, and the streets were dimly lit by the torches that lined them, though barely a single window still showed a light. This part of the city slept, but slumber was one of the many luxuries that Gessam could not afford to indulge in.
As he looked behind him, he saw several men with long, curved blades run by in a flash. Fear tingled down his spine; these thugs were after him, he knew. They were living proof of the folly of having the wrong person for a creditor.
Gessam shakily crawled over to the corner and let himself lie down. He was a merchant, the son of a merchant, and every man in his family�s line leading up to him had been a merchant. It was what he was born as, and what he hoped he would die as.
Now, though, it seemed he would die a pauper, perhaps in this very alley. His stomach growled; Gessam was deathly skinny, and could not remember his last meal. He had never been able to compete with the other merchants, though. Borrowing money in hopes of finding some scrap of success had only multiplied his problems, especially now that he was in debt to Dolo Ibn Ahamabad, a very wealthy, very ruthless merchant who had started his career as an ormslayer. He had to face the facts eventually; he was done for. All he now owned were the ragged clothes on his back � so wretched were they, he could not even sell them - he would soon die, alone, starving and a failure of a person. His existence would have proven unnecessary.
There was still a glimmer of hope, though; it rested in the Great Library, among the innumerable tomes and volumes that rested on its dusty shelves. In these books he would find his salvation. He had to. His life depended on it.
This he thought as sleep wrestled its black hold over his mind.
* * * * *
Gessam woke up late the next day from the irritable growling of his belly. Rising slowly, he looked out into the streets. He was lucky that he had not been found.
The brilliant sunlight dealt Gessam a physical blow as he shambled stiffly into the streets. People and animals passed by, carrying about their respective businesses, paying nary a second thought to the ruined man. He didn�t mind this; people who did not notice him were people who would not hurt him.
Gessam made his way to the Great Library. It was a long, arduous walk, as is every journey for a starving man, and the Library was a great distance away. The city of Gessal�lashk was made up of several layers; the outer layer, surrounded by the largest, strongest wall, was occupied by the thousands of soldiers kept in the employ of the city. Next, behind yet another wall, was the largest portion of the city, devoted to agriculture, orchards, and the herding of animals. Next, surrounded by yet another wall, was the main city. Although not as large as the rest of Gessal�lashk, it was definitely the busiest, and heavily populated. It was host to temples, shops, blacksmiths, woodworkers and other such places. Finally, behind yet another wall, was the palace, where the royalty of the Sanissad tribe, of which this city was the capitol, lived. Currently, Gessam was in the housing area of the second outermost section of the city. His quarry lay in the third. Hence, he began the long weary trudge.
The sun beat down mercilessly, as it always did. Gessam was starving; he needed to find food quickly. Thus, as he entered the urban part of the city, his first stop was one of the streetside vendors. As the owner was bartering with another man, Gessam quickly snatched an apple and silently slipped away without being noticed. After such a long fast, the apple tasted sweet and juicy, and was almost completely devoured. Thus, his appetite somewhat satiated, Gessam continued his journey.
Finally, he reached the Library. Sighing in relief, he climbed the steps and opened the door, then stopped suddenly, petrified by terror. Inside sat Dolo Ibn Ahamabad, his ruthless creditor. Currently, the man was engrossed in a large, heavy tome, and had not even noticed the door creak open. Gessam thanked the gods, then quietly slunk in.
Tip-toeing behind one of the giant shelves, he breathed a sigh of relief. Still he had not been caught. Truly fate had been kind to him � or was toying with him cruelly before letting its sword strike the final blow that would end his miserable existence. Gessam sincerely hoped for the former to be the true case.
Slowly, the man made his way through the vast library. Further and further he ventured, until finally he came to a dimly lit section in which sat nothing, but large, musty tomes. Nary a single person aside from himself could be seen, which suited him fine; if he was caught doing what he was about to do, his head would find a permanent resting place mounted on a pike on the outermost wall.
At last, Gessam found what he sought; an old, weathered tome upon which was written in Sanskrit �Enchantment and Divination�. Eagerly, he pulled it from the shelf, sat down with his back against the library shelf, and started flipping through it.
There must be something in here, he thought desperately, Something that will fix my problems. There�s got to be�
* * * * *
Gessam�s journey had been easy. Too easy. Many things that should have happened had not. All according to plan.
When Gessam had stolen the fruit, the man who was distracting the shopkeeper lingered temporarily, then disappeared, leaving the vendor�s owner confused, wondering why he was seemingly bartering with nobody; there had never been anyone there. Dolo should have stopped to look at the door � it always paid to know who was in the room with you � yet some unknown force had compelled him not to. A library attendant should have stopped Gessam from delving too far into the library, yet no one did; they just took no notice of him. A magical alarm should have gone off as the non-magician had pulled the book from the shelf, yet none did.
None of this was any coincidence. It was all according to plan.
* * * * *
Gessam must have fallen asleep as he had read, for now he stood in the middle of a vast, dark, misty wasteland. He looked around, seeing nothing but mist. He took a step, and heard his footstep echo throughout the eternal desert.
What is this place? he thought.
�It is my home,� a voice, whispering yet booming at the same time, answered, �How do you like it?�
Gessam spun around, his footsteps booming as he did. �Who�s there?� he asked, �Who said that?�
�Just me,� the voice boomed again, �You could call me a businessman, if such is your wont, for I approach you with similar priorities.�
Gessam was now truly frightened. The mysterious owner of the voice seemed to sense this, and laughed, sending a tingle down the poor merchant�s spine. �So you fear me,� the voice boomed, �Good. Good, I see that you are not unwise in that regard. I like people with wisdom. Are you such a person?�
�Um,� Gessam murmured. He could not truthfully say that he felt himself to be wise; after all, had he not landed himself in his current predicament?
Again, there was laughter. �I know what you are thinking,� it boomed once more, �Do not worry; business savvy does not denote wisdom. Knowledge denotes wisdom; knowledge of who is friend, who is foe, who is inferior, and who is-� the air seemed to ripple; for some reason, it seemed to Gessam that the disembodied voice was smirking, �-superior.� It did not take a philosopher to figure out that the voice was referring to itself.
�So, why am I here?� Gessam asked, plucking up his wavering courage, �What do you want with me?�
�I merely wish to make a mutually beneficial business proposition,� the booming whisper explained, �You deliver to me what I want, and I, as happens in most transactions, give you money. You shall become very rich working for me,� it added.
Gessam considered this for a moment. Part of him warned him not to take the offer, to forget this meeting ever happened. Another part, a much more appealing part, politely urged him to accept, pointing out that he currently needed money; which this business partner-to-be seemed more than willing to offer.
�Very well,� Gessam said at long last, �I shall take you up on your offer.�
A ripple of delight seemed to wash over the wasteland. �Good,� the voice boomed triumphantly, �You will not regret this.� Then the mist and desert started to fade.
Suddenly, a thought struck Gessam like lightning. �But what have I to offer you?� he called out, afraid that the fading landscape would silence his voice.
�Do not worry,� the familiar boom responded, growing more and more distant, �I have sent my servants to aid you; they will help you with all of your problems.�
And then Gessam awoke.
* * * * *
Gessam gasped. Wiping the sweat that beaded his forehead with his sleeve, he peered around. All he saw was dimly lit shelves of musty books. It was all a dream. All a dream�
�Hey, boss,� a deep voice boomed down at him from above, startling the merchant. Gessam quickly looked upwards to behold a sight which made him cry out in horror.
Perched on the top of the shelf he had been lying against was an absolutely enormous demon. It was garbed in baggy brown pants and a loose, sleeveless white shirt. Its feet, however, were not feet at all, but hooves like that of a camel. Its arms were also large and covered in tawny hair, and it had three hoof-like fingers. The being�s head and elongated neck were both those of a camel, although Gessam had never seen a camel with such long, sharp teeth, or such cruel, wicked eyes.
Heaving the book away, Gessam got up and started to run, but his way was blocked by two more demons. One looked exactly like a normal crocodile, except that it stood on two legs and was wearing a somewhat burnt-looking violet vest. The other one appeared to be a 6-foot tall black cat, standing on two legs. By the being�s attire � a belly-dancer�s clothes � the demon was obviously female. Gasping in fright, Gessam turned around only to find his only other way of escape blocked by a large, robed demon with a jackal�s head and clawed, padded hands, which he had spread out as if to embrace him. There was nothing Gessam could do now; whatever these demons saw fit to do with him, they were in full control of the situation.
For a while, man and demon alike stood still, staring at one another. Finally, the jackal-headed one said, �Well, master, what are your orders?�
Gessam was completely taken aback by this. �What?� he asked.
�Your orders,� the demon repeated patiently, �Our lord, the mighty Asmodeus, sent us demons to serve you, his new �business partner�. Allow us to introduce ourselves; I,� he bowed low, �am Rash�nakasha, demonic sorcerer and humble servant. This,� he motioned to the camel demon, who bowed awkwardly form his position, �is Groddar, this,� he motioned to the crocodile, who also bowed, �is Petsuchos, and finally this,� he motioned to the cat-demon, who bobbed gracefully, �is Felina. We are at your disposal.�
�But�but how did you get here?� Gessam asked, still very nervous.
�Simple,� the crocodile-demon, Petsuchos, explained, �Our lord can use areas of high magical concentration � like an opened magical tome � to transport small numbers of his servants to wherever it is. You see?�
Gessam gulped and nodded, too stricken to say anything more. The camel-demon grunted, jumping down from his position and landing with a thud. At this creature, Gessam could not help but stare in awe. It was 11 feet tall, both lithe and muscular, and stank worse than the animal it resembled. He noticed that even the jackal demon wrinkled his nose as Groddar landed near him. �So boss,� the giant camel-demon grated, �What we do now?�
�Um�� Gessam had naught a clue.
�Oh, come on,� Petsuchos the crocodile demon sneered, �You don�t know what to do with us?�
�As-As-Asmo-� Gessam cleared his throat and worked up the courage to say the name of his new business partner, �As-mo-de-us said that you would know.�
�He didn�t tell you?� Rash�nakasha muttered.
�No!�
As one, the demons groaned, rolling their eyes. �Well,� Rash�nakasha said, �We cannot ply our new trade from inside this library. But we can hardly just walk out of the door now, can we? No, we need another way out.� From the depths of his robes the jackal demon produced a fine, golden chain. With three fingers on each hand, he pulled one of the links, which expanded as he did so. When it was finally large enough for a grown man to walk through without ducking, he held it out. �After you,� he addressed the rest of the company.
Felina stepped through the hoop first, but did not come out the other side. Bending over, Groddor disappeared through the link as well, leaving Rash�nakasha, Petsuchos and a somewhat bewildered Gessam in the library.
�The use of our magic here will soon be discovered,� the jackal demon said to his confused master, �Unless, of course, they have bigger issues to worry about than a mere spell. Petsuchos,� he instructed his reptilian comrade, �give them something better to worry about, if you please.�
The crocodile-demon grinned, revealing every sharp, gleaming fang. �Gladly,� he snickered. Then, with a flourish, he drew an unlit torch from his vest. Opening his mouth slightly, he put the top of the torch in. When he withdrew it, the top of the torch was smoldering. Next, to Gessam�s horror, the demon held the torch before his giant maw and blew at it like a flame eater, sending a stream of fire at the old, musty tomes on the towering shelves. The flames engulfed the books and spread rapidly from shelf to shelf, devouring all hungrily.
Laughing, Rash�nakasha slapped the grinning Petsuchos heartily on the back as the crocodile demon stepped through the giant loop. Then the demon looked to the shocked, speechless Gessam, smiling evilly. �We�d best be going, master,� he advised, putting his hand gently on the man�s shoulder, �Come on; you�ll get used to our ways soon enough.�
Rash�nakasha led Gessam through the giant link, and immediately stepped out into an alleyway. The rest of the demons stood around them, each one grinning wickedly as they stared at the giant pillar of smoke spiraling into the air.
Gessam was horrified. �What-what have we done?� he gasped.
�Don�t worry,� Rash�nakasha smirked, �Anyone stupid enough not get away from a blaze like that does not deserve to live.�
�But won�t the fire spread?�
�Probably. But tell me, do you really care whether it does or not?�
�You�re damn right I�� Gessam stopped. For some reason, apathy seemed to be overwhelming him; he actually didn�t care what happened. ��don�t care,� he finished weakly.
All of the demons exchanged grins. �The boss�s comin� along,� Groddor chuckled, reaching down and patting his master�s back with a hoof-like hand, �You make good boss, I think.�
�Indeed,� Rash�nakasha smirked, �Now, shall we go? We�ve business to attend to, and the demon lord does not wish to wait for his goods.�
�What goods?� Gessam asked. He had still gotten no answer to this question.
�Well,� Felina smirked, nudging Petsuchos in the ribs as if to say �wait for the punchline�, �You know how some say a man can become a slave to his own greed?�
�Um, yes,� Gessam gulped, knowing that this punchline would leave him winded.
�Well,� Felina cackled, �Now we�re going to make some of the men of this city become slaves to our greed!�
* * * * *
The people of the town now fought a pitched battle against the blaze on the great library. Fortunately, most of the buildings around were made of stone, so the fire was somewhat contained. Dolo Ibn Ahamabad personally organized the bucket lines, and soon the flames started to ebb before the force of many buckets of water from the nearby river that ran through the farmland. Still, much knowledge accumulated over centuries had been lost forever.
Dolo watched the battle against the flames himself. He was old, but not feeble. He knew that this was no accident. Someone had planned it to happen. The question was, who?
�Gods smile upon you, Ibn Ahamabad,� wheezed a voice from behind him. Dolo turned around, then bowed low before the richly robed, wizened old man that stood before him.
�And upon you as well, mighty Ibn Mazzir,� Dolo said respectfully. The old man, Mazzor Ibn Mazzir, nodded, and bid the man to rise. Ibn Mazzir was a magician; he was not as strong as used to be, but still he was the oldest, wisest, and most powerful magician in the city.
�Great weaver of magic,� Dolo said, �The library has been set on fire, and��
�Yes, I know,� Mazzor said, �It is no mistake. I sensed sorcery here moments before the fire started. I may also know what caused it. Follow me.� Without another word, Mazzor strode forward towards the blaze, followed hesitantly by Dolo.
As Mazzor neared the flames, they parted way for him as he approached, his sandals crunching the ashes beneath them. Dolo followed, keeping close to the magician lest the flames seer him if he should stray too far. For a long time they walked at Mazzor�s leisurely pace, the flames parting before the magician. At last, they came to a halt. Then Mazzor motioned to the ashes before his feet. �Dig,� he ordered.
Unquestioningly, Dolo sank to his knees and shifted the ashes until he found a chain of golden links. In fact, now that he had uncovered it, he also noticed another smell, more overpowering than that of the smoke; a faint smell that only the greatest Sanissad warriors could be trained to recognize.
�Demons,� Dolo, snarled, �There were damned demons here!�
�Indeed,� Mazzor nodded, �How they came here, I�ve no idea, although I suspect that someone brought them here through some action.�
�Well, all that I know is that there are demons in my city, and I�ll be damned if I let them just do as they please!� Dolo declared firmly. He threw the chain to the ground in disgust, stomping it down into the ashes for good measure. �Now let us make haste; my blade has not tasted demon blood for all too long.�
* * * * *
A slaver, Gessam thought gloomily as he and his party walked through an abandoned street (all of the inhabitants having left to join a bucket line), I�m a slaver. How did I end up like this?
He had needed Rash�nakasha to explain Felina�s joke three times before the awful truth sank in. What Asmodeus had wanted was a slave trader who would bring humans to him for whatever sadistic goals he needed them for (exactly what had not come up).
Gessam did not feel right about this. Of course, many wealthy people in this city owned slaves � they were a great help. They worked for the food and shelter provided to them by their masters, and there were laws against mistreating one�s slaves. Perhaps even demons needed slaves; maybe there was more to these beings than was generally assumed. The thought that demons may not be so different after all was comforting; besides, were there not ruthless men who were just as bad?
At the next corner, the party stopped. �You first,� Rash�nakasha instructed Gessam, �If there are any of your kind down one of those streets, it only takes one to spot us and spread the word.� Gessam nodded, then hesitantly walked around the corner�
�and bumped into a group of 7 large men, who he recognized immediately. Each one holding a club or other blunt tool, they grabbed the protesting Gessam and held him in their vice like grips as a richly dressed merchant swaggered over to him.
�Ah, Gessam,� the merchant said cheerily, �Remember me? I�m Amishk Ibn Nobbali, and, as I recall, you owe me a hefty amount of money. So where is it?�
�I-I don�t have it!� Gessam gasped, wondering just where those bloody demons were.
�Oh,� Amishk sighed, unsheathing a long, curved knife with a jewel-encrusted silver handle, �I you take things and don�t give them back, then that makes you a thief. And you know the penalty for theft.� One of the guards held out Gessam�s struggling left hand as the merchant raised his dagger�
The blow never landed, for the demons had just turned the corner. Groddar now held a large bardiche, Felina had a long, lithe saber, Petsuchos carried his torch, and Rash�nakasha now held a large, glowing staff with a giant, ornate, paper-thin axe-head at the top of it.
The men hardly knew what hit them. Two were cleft in half by one stroke from Groddar�s mighty weapon, one fell with his throat slit by one deft slash from Felina�s weapon, and Petsuchos burned two more as he did the library. All of these men were most fortunate compared to the victims of Rash�nakasha, who cast a spell which caused their very organs to rot beneath their flesh and skin. It was a gruesome spectacle indeed.
Finally, Groddar grabbed the startled Amishk around the neck. The man swung desperately with his knife, but a flaming burst from Petsuchos literally melted the blade. ��This weakling giving you trouble, boss?� the camel-demon sneered, tightening his grip slightly and causing the poor man to gasp.
�No, don�t kill�� Gessam started, then stopped abruptly. He looked at Rash�nakasha, who merely smiled and nodded. Then, his features hardening, Gessam said, �Actually, why don�t you go ahead and kill him, my servant?�
Groddar grinned wickedly, then swiveled his head to look at his victim-to-be. �Time to eliminate the competition,� he chortled.
The final squeeze was all that was needed.
* * * * *
Dolo led his men through the streets of Gessal�lashk. Scimitar drawn, he grunted as he surged ever forward. He was not the man he used to be; his bones were becoming brittle, and his muscles were somewhat worse for disuse. Still, he felt more exhilarated than he had been in many years.
He felt young again.
Pursuing a demon once again as he had done so long ago, knowing he would soon face a creature � or creatures � of unpredictable thoughts, strengths and weaknesses, knowing that either it or he would die before the end, thrilled him, bringing back memories of better days. During his youth, Dolo had seen his work as a job; merely service-for-money work, like that of a vendor or merchant. Only in his old age did he look back on that golden age of his life and sigh, longing for the strength and youthful vitality he had once possessed. It felt good to be back on the hunt.
A soldier suddenly ran up to Dolo, calling him and his men to a halt. The warrior was one of the city guard, bedecked in bronze armour and carrying a scimitar. His dark Southerner�s skin was turned deathly pale as he confronted the hunters. �S-sir,� he said, �Y-you are leading the demon hunt?�
�Yes,� Dolo growled irritably, �What of it?�
�I think we may have something that might put you on the right trail,� he gulped, �Follow me.�
The guard led them quickly to an area surrounded by other soldiers, who were holding a crowd of people back. When Dolo managed to squeeze through the press of bodies, he came to look upon a gory scene. Lying on the blood-spattered flagstones were eight bodies. Two had been cleft in half, seemingly at the same time, one had a slit throat, two more were smoking, charred ruins of what was once, by virtue of their shape, humans, and two more still were merely lying there like rag-dolls, seemingly deflated from the inside, as if their organs had disappeared. The last one, however, caught Dolo�s eye the most. It was richly garbed and its head looked to have been literally squeezed off.
�That man is Amishk Ibn Nobbali,� Dolo remarked, �A merchant, as I remember.� he turned to the guards and his men. �These people were all killed in different ways. That means there are at least 4 demons in the city right now. We must track them all down and slay every last one!� He turned to the guards. �You must put the town on full alert, and do it now. With 4 demons of the loose, there�s no telling what damage could be caused.�
�What about the bodies, sir?� a guard asked.
�Oh, just call somebody to pick them up. You don�t need to stand around and guard them; what is this crowd going to do, eat them if you leave! Away with you all; start doing something useful.� The guards saluted respectfully, none wanting to test their luck against a former ormslayer come out of retirement. Then, sniffing the air for the expected trace of demon, he set off in pursuit of his quarry once again.
Just like old times.
* * * * *
Felina was impressed by Gessam�s progress. Already, mere exposure to her and the other demons was starting to harden his heart, make him more ruthless, less compassionate, and, as a result, more powerful. This often happened to humans who worked alongside demons. Gessam would soon make a fine master.
The method of capturing slaves was an efficient one. Rash�nakasha would cast a simple sound blocking spell upon a home, which the demons would infiltrate. The inhabitants would then be overpowered, bound, and would have cast upon them a spell of still-tongue; it had worked for at least 7 families, all of which were bound to one another by a great length of rope.
Felina, however, had temporarily split up from the main group to find some small child who had stumbled upon them capturing the last family. When this was reported to Gessam by a worried Groddar, he waved his hand dismissively and told Felina to sort it out. And so she would.
Felina pursued the child, skittering up onto the rooftops and chasing him from there, just to frighten him. Of course, she could have captured or killed him at any time. However, like the animal whose likeness she shared, Felina was fond of toying with her prey, playing cruel games, batting around the mouse before the final slash of the claw. The child would not escape.
At last, the child tripped and fell heavily to the ground with a small �Oof!� Seeing her opportunity, Felina hissed, jumping down from the rooftop onto the child. Like a cruel cat, she batted and kicked the shrieking, crying child around with her paws, relishing in his fear. No one would save him; they were still fighting the fire. The child was all hers.
Finally, Felina started to grow weary of the sadistic game. Pinning the child with one of her hind paws, she slowly drew her blade and raised it for the final slash. �What think you of my claw, little mouse?� she hissed.
�It needs a trim,� a gravelly voice snarled, �If this dog has any say in the matter!� Felina looked up to see a curved blade flash before her eyes.
And saw nothing more.
* * * * *
Gessam saw Rash�nakasha shudder and fall to his knees, head bowed. �What are you doing?� he asked his servant, �What has happened?�
The jackal-demon�s head remained bowed. �Felina�s dead,� he gasped. His head then shot up. �The humans have killed her!�
�They�ve picked up our trail,� Petsuchos snarled, �We�ve got to get out of here!�
Groddar said nothing. Rather, he let out an animalistic groan/roar, then tugged the rope connecting the line of men and women and ran. Rash�nakasha leapt to his feet and started off at a sprint. Petsuchos and Gessam followed at a dead-run.
Behind them, above the huffing breath of the mighty camel-demon, Gessam could hear the clatter of sandals on cobble-stones as the guards pursuing them started gaining on the party. Petsuchos also seemed to notice this. As the crocodile-demon ran, he spun around with amazing dexterity, spitting out a spray of some gooey black substance onto the cobblestones behind him. Then, still, running, he twirled around once again, this time blowing flame through the torch onto the vile substance. It erupted into flame, halting the guards in their footsteps. As they continued running, Petsuchos flashed his large, wicked grin. �That�ll buy us some time,� he said, �But don�t count on it holding those bastards too long.�
�It looks like we�ve got bigger problems,� Gessam groaned, staring at the guards filing into the street ahead of them. Petsuchos just looked at them and horked out a laugh; the merchant would soon see why.
The frontmost two demons� reactions were lighting-quick and efficient; Groddar let go of the slave line, only for it to be caught again literally half a second later by Rash�nakasha. Then the camel-demon, roaring savagely, charged at the guards with his bardiche raised in both hands.
The soldiers stood no chance. One mighty sweep was enough for Groddar to clear the path of most of the soldiers, and he did not even break stride in doing so. Before the surviving soldiers could return to their senses, the rest of the party had run past, jumping over the cleft bodies.
When the rest of the guards, led by Dolo, came to the macabre scene, the leader cursed his bad luck. �The damned demons have got a brute* with them. Added to the flame-breather, the only thing that could possibly make this situation worse would be a bloody sorcerer.� He turned to the guards. �Keep following them. Sound the signal horn for the rest of the guards. These demons got into this city somehow, and I don�t want them to leave alive.�
�But how will we hunt them down?� one guard asked dumbly.
Dolo looked to the cobblestones. It had taken little time for the blood to pool onto the streets, and four pairs of bloody tracks could be seen running down the street. �Follow those,� he instructed, indicating to the tracks, �And make sure to arrest one Gessam Ibn Korrishk upon sight; I believe he was the man running with those demons.�
The guard nodded. �Are you sure it was him, sir?�
Dolo�s eyes lit up with fury. �You�re wasting time, you fool!� he bellowed, �And yes, of course I�m sure; besides, the son of a bitch owes me money.�
*When describing a demon, the term �brute� denotes a large, extraordinarily powerful being who is little thought, all instinct, and no fear whatsoever; this is what makes such demons so deadly.
* * * * *
Groddar literally sundered the gates of the main city and burst into the farmland, followed closely by the rest of the party. As Gessam stared at the giant creature, whose clothes and fur were now spattered with the blood of many men, he noticed that the demon seemed to be changing. His breaths were becoming harsher and more ragged, his mouth was gaping wide and slavering large globules of drool, and his eyes had taken on the mad, bloodthirsty look of a feral predator about to leap upon its prey. Petsuchos noticed this, and imparted some of his personal knowledge to his master as they ran.
�Best not to talk to Groddar when he�s like this,� the crocodile-demon instructed, �He�s gone absolutely berserk from the excitement of battle and being chased; if you even say a word to him, he�s more likely than not to circumcise your face.�
Ahead of them, Groddar roared as he tore through a passing herd of goats, sending livestock flying with a single swing of his weapon and trampling several of the rest. Once again, his pace did not even slow. �See what I mean?� muttered Petsuchos.
Gessam gulped. Nothing like this had ever happened to him before; he had never expected it to. He was supposed to have become a merchant, carried on the family business, passed it on to his children, passed away silently at an old age�how was he even thinking this? The group had covered at an enormous distance at a fast run, yet he did not feel the slightest trace of exhaustion. Neither did anybody else in the party, even the slaves. There were children in the slave line who were keeping pace with a giant camel-demon, for gods� sakes! Petsuchos, as if reading his mind, met his master�s gaze for several seconds of running, snorted a chuckle, then continued running normally, his giant crocodile-grin etched upon his face. Both knew that there was some fell magic about.
�Hey,� Rash�nakasha barked, interrupting Gessam�s line of thought, �Be prepared; the hardest leg of the journey is yet to come.� He pointed ahead, indicating to the second outermost wall of the city. Gessam groaned inwardly; behind it were several thousand men, all armed to the teeth and eager to prove their mettle against demonic foes.
A horn blew somewhere in the city. It was the demon-warning; now everybody in the city knew of their presence. �Damnation,� Rash�nakasha snarled, �It seems that we shall experience yet more difficulty. Look!� He pointed to a swarming posse of workers, shepherds, farmers and other rural occupants. They held an assortment of scythes, pitchforks, long shepherd�s hooks, and even a few bows and arrows and rusted old weapons.
Petsuchos grinned (the demon did this a lot). �Just makes things interesting,� he smirked as they ran ever-closer to the posse, �Don�t worry, master; these shit-haulers and crop-pullers don�t stand a chance against us.�
It was true. As the men swarmed towards them, Groddar roared in fury and smote them asunder. Those who survived the mighty demon�s swing and evaded his stomping hooves broke up and ran, crying out in fear. Petsuchos laughed at this, then blew a gout of flame at one just out of spite. �Told you so,� he cackled to the somewhat shocked Gessam. Noting his master�s expression of horror, the demon �s laughter faded, and a begrudged look settled over his reptilian features. �You�ve still got a ways to go, eh?� he muttered.
Before long the second outermost gate loomed over the party. Giant metal doors swung inwards* to make way for a rank after rank of well-armed, well-trained warriors. Gessam dared a quick glance behind himself to see Dolo Ibn Ahamabad, an expression of righteous anger plastered on his ancient face, leading another squad of town guards and his own men. �How can we possibly beat all of this?� he cried to his reptilian companion.
�Um, we�ll find a way,� Petsuchos said, putting on an unconvincing grin. He looked genuinely worried, though. Groddar didn�t seem to share such concern, being a creature of much fewer brains. Gessam knew that the camel-demon would not think twice about charging headlong into the warriors, smashing them about until he eventually fell to a well-placed sword, spear or arrow to collapse at the end of the red road of ruin he had rent**.
Only Rash�nakasha looked as if he were prepared to get the party out of this situation.
The jackal-demon reached out his free claw, upon which was a sparkling golden bracelet. Strangely, Gessam had never noticed it before; perhaps it was merely demonic witchcraft. Whatever the explanation, the bracelet suddenly flew off Rash�nakasha�s wrist, widening substantially as it did. The party, slaves and all, ran through it, emerging suddenly within the outermost layer of the city.
The party kept running. Daring another glance backwards, Gessam saw the soldiers behind him stumbling into one another in confusion. A thick line of obscenity, shouted in what sounded like Dolo�s voice, cut the air. The merchant allowed himself a brief smile�
�Which disappeared instantly as he was barreled to the side, grabbed and carried along by a grim-faced Petsuchos. �Watch out,� the demon hissed, �We aren�t out of this yet.� He wove to the side, barely avoiding an arrow.
Suddenly, the air was alive with a humming like a thousand angry hornets. Gessam looked up to see the archers on the outermost wall peppering his party with arrows. �You need to be more careful,� Petsuchos growled, �If it wasn�t for me, you would have been hit.� He smirked. �It would be a shame to see you at the end of a shaft like that. Especially since you look like you�ve not had any faigh muin in your life!�
�As long as you�re on that subject,� Rash�nakasha snarled, �We�re all screwed if you don�t deal with that!� he pointed to the top of the final gate, revealing several men with pots of boiling oil, waiting for the approach of the party.
Petsuchos laughed. �Hah! These bastards just make it too easy!� Handing his burden quickly over to the jackal-demon, Petsuchos, still running, held the torch before his lengthy snout and blew upwards at the pots of boiling, flammable liquid.
The explosion that resulted was absolutely immense. The entire top of the gate was blown off, and the mighty doors smote asunder. The party, now unencumbered by the presence of the outer gates, surged out into the freedom of the open desert.
Once the arrows from the vengeful soldiers atop the walls had ceased to fly after the demonic slavers, Rash�nakasha set Gessam down and they proceeded at a slower, less desperate jog. They were out of danger temporarily, although it was still prudent to put as much distance between themselves and the city as possible.
*A defensive feature; a door that swings towards an enemy is less likely to be smashed open by an enemy army. Of course, few demonic hordes have ever breached the first wall, and the few that did lost so many in doing so that they were easily pushed back and routed by the defenders.
**Ph33r mi @lliter337 ski11z, f00l!$# n00bs!
* * * * *
Dolo Ibn Ahamabad finally made it to what was left of the outer gates. Surely enough, there was that bastard Gessam and his party of demons and their captives, disappearing in the distance. Cursing, he turned to the guards. �Set up barricades,� he ordered, �We need to reconstruct this gate as quickly as possible; until it is rebuilt, we are vulnerable to the demonic hordes.�
�But wait,� one warrior said, �You are not our commander. How can you order us about?� he instantly regretted his impudence.
Dolo�s reaction was frightening indeed. His old, withered brown face beneath his turban reddened with fury, his shoulders raised, his fists clenching tightly. The man looked as if he were about to explode, and that he did. �I, young man,� he roared, �Served our tribe as an ormslayer for the best years of my life, and did a damned good job of it! I spilled rivers of my own blood and oceans of that of our foes, all so that worthless whelps like you could be born to perhaps aid the ormslayers of the next generation! It is they who keep our people safe, not you! I may not be your commander, but gods damn it, I am your superior! Now do as I say!� Dolo then whirled around and stalked off, followed by his men, the last of whom clipped the disrespectful guard over the side of the head as he left.
Dolo and his men walked down the same path that Gessam and his minions had used. The families of those who had died in the peasant mob�s disastrous rush at the demons now searched among the bodies for their loved ones, crying and weeping when they found them, hacked apart or trampled as they were. Many had lost their sons, brothers, fathers and husbands in the brutal slaughter. These families would run into major difficulties because of this.
But why should you care? His treacherous thoughts probed, Did you pity Gessam as you did these people?
But that was different, was it not? The man had owed him money. Still, he was not an evil man, the merciless thoughts persisted, You did not need to treat him as harshly as you had. You ordered your men to hunt him like an animal. He was as a man in the hands of a torturer, screaming for help, uncaring for who came; only wishing for some escape.
And it just happened to be demons who delivered him from his tormentor - you.
Gritting his teeth, Dolo tried to think of something else, yet the accusing thoughts would not let it drop. This is all your fault. Had you been more lenient with him, this would never have happened. Your actions have accomplished nothing; many have lost their loved ones or have disappeared with the demons into the desert, the city�s outer defenses have been struck an awful blow, and you�ve still no money to show for all this. Was it worth it? Dolo already knew the answer.
Finally, Dolo came to the body of the demon he had slain. Mazzor was waiting there for him, his hand resting comfortingly on the shoulder of the child it had attacked. �You were lucky to have caught the beast unawares,� the magician observed, �In a fair duel, she would have been much more difficult to deal with.�
Dolo nodded. �The outer gate has been broken down. The guards are at work barricading it while repairs are made. The demons, however, have escaped, taking their captives with them.� he sighed, �No amount of money is worth this��
Mazzor did not understand what he meant by this, but chose not to pursue the matter any further. �This boy�s parents were taken by the demons,� he said, �A suitable home shall be needed for him.�
Dolo dismissed this comment momentarily, then stopped to think. Dolo had wedded a woman he had rescued from an orm�s lair during his youth, and had stayed faithful to her ever since. However, Dolo�s seed had never borne fruit; he had tried, but was unable to have even a singe child. This had been something of a shame to him; he had always wanted a son to call his own.
Why not? He thought, Why not take the lad under my wing? Raise him like the son I never had? Besides, perhaps it will, in some small way, make up for what I have done here.
Dolo bent down so that his eyes were level with those of the boy. �What is your name, young man?� he addressed him.
�I am Saloel Ibn Tah�Yallan, sir,� the child said shakily, �Where�s mama and papa?�
Dolo shook his head sadly. �Worry not,� he said, �They will not suffer long. Now come with me,� he led the child away, �We�ve got to go.�
�Where do we need to go?� Saloel asked.
�Back to my home,� Dolo said, �For it is now yours, as well.�
* * * * *
Gessam�s party had now slowed to a determined trudge as they continued to push further and further into the desert. The burning sun had begun its descent into the West, gradually disappearing over the horizon as the hours dragged on into night. Still, the demonic band kept up the march.
Gessam, however, noticed that, once again, not all was as it should have been. The sun had beat down upon the band ferociously, yet not so much as a single slave had succumbed to heat exhaustion. In fact, no one had even collapsed from any sort of fatigue, even through the endless death-march that they had embarked upon. And now that night had fallen, casting a freezing blanket of darkness over the unending wasteland, nobody had even commented on the chill they felt. Only Rash�nakasha seemed to even looked tired; he panted raggedly, continuously muttering some sort of repetitive chant as he trudged on with the rest of the group. When Gessam had asked what he was saying, he growled, bearing his teeth, then continued. The merchant wisely restrained from making any further inquiries.
Groddar, who once again led the slave line, now walked ahead of the rest of the group, his face bereft of any sort of expression. The party had stopped running with the giant demon, and not a second sooner. Gessam could only assume that this had been to let Groddar work off his bloodlust through hard exercise, that he may be approached during the march if the situation should call for such. Still, Gessam was apprehensive of the giant camel-demon.
Petsuchos was another matter entirely. Gessam knew little about demons and their ways, but he guessed that the crocodile-demon was trying to prepare him for entering the business he had chosen; to show him the ropes, make him accustomed to the ways of his kind, perhaps even try to be the man�s friend. Right now, then demon looked subdued, almost sad. Concerned, Gessam asked why.
Petsuchos looked up, as if startled from his own thoughts. �Uh, what? Oh, it�s nothing. Just thinking..�
�About what?� Gessam asked.
The demon paused, then sighed. �I�ll never see her again.�
�What?� momentarily puzzled, Gessam suddenly realized what he was talking about. �You mean Felina?�
�Yeah,� Petsuchos mumbled, � I mean her.�
�Why?� Gessam asked, intrigued. In the day that he had spent in the company of demons, he had learned more about their ways than any demon hunter would probably learn in a lifetime. Now, Petsuchos was demonstrating some new sort of behavior. It was interesting.
Petsuchos seemed almost abashed. �Um, it�s nothing to be worry about. I�m�just�� his voice trailed off.
�Tell me,� Gessam urged, �It may lift a burden from your shoulders.�
�Well,� the crocodile-demon sighed, �I suppose you�d say I miss her. I don�t understand this � feeling.� He paused, as if thinking of what to say next. �Feelings are a hard matter for us. You wouldn�t understand; humans like you get to get used to your feelings, your emotions; you get to grow into yourselves, as far as I know. That�s what childhood is for. We demon�s though; we�re just brought into the world from nothing, our heads already full of � full of thoughts, knowledge, feelings, emotions, instincts; it�s terribly confusing. Some demons do not even survive their creation; their heads just overload and they die as they�re born.� As he noticed the somewhat surprised look on his masters face, the demon glowered. �Don�t start thinking that I�m some sort of weak, sentimental idiot, though. I know I�m evil, and I enjoy being that way.
�Still,� he sighed, �I know that there�s plenty of evil humans about. But that�s just what their experience makes them; what happens to them, what they think of what happens to them, how they react to what�s happened to them. Not demons, though. We�re brought into this world, pulled from non-existence to existence, and just created evil without any history or experience to make us that way. It�s just the way we are. We can�t help it. I�ve never actually thought about it much before now, before I had this feeling that I�ve just had. I don�t know how to explain.�
�Just do your best,� Gessam prompted.
�Very well,� Petsuchos sighed, �I suppose you could say it�s because of a feeling I felt before � she � died. I�ve never felt anything quite like it; all the other demons I�ve ever worked with were just comrades � business associates, you might call them. They meant nothing to me, and I didn�t care whether they lived or died or anything. Felina, though,� he sighed again, �There was something I felt for her, something I know she felt for me as well. I-I don�t know what it was�it�s sort of a warm feeling, like a glow, or something like that. And now that she�s gone, it�s like the glow�s been smothered, leaving only darkness and cold.� He sighed. �Something like that.�
Gessam was shocked. He would have never guessed. He didn�t think that anybody could have ever guessed. But then again, how could they?
How could anybody have guessed that a creature like this could feel love?
�But will you not see her again in�your�� did demons have an afterlife?
Petsuchos seemed to read Gessam�s thoughts, and shook his head sadly. �No,� he sighed, �When we�re born, we come out from being nothing. When we die, we return to being nothing. There�s no way to resurrect us, no way to make us keep existing, no way to help us. Once we�re dead, we�re dead. We�d all be sniveling cowards who are afraid to stub our toes if most of us actually gave a damn about it.�
The conversation was interrupted by a sharp bark from Rash�nakasha. �We are here,� he growled, �It is time to make your first transaction with your new business partner, master.�
Now that something had come to distract him, Petsuchos seemed to brighten up. The entire party of demons stared on ahead, seemingly at nothing. Then, as Gessam watched in horror and some fascination, flame burst up from the ground, opening a hole from which climbed a monstrous being.
Gessam was too shocked even to gasp. The creature had black, leathery skin, giant claws, a maw full of long, gleaming fangs in a somewhat humanoid face, a swishing tail, two rows of spines going down his back, a pair of long, twisting horns, and glaring red eyes. The beast towered over even Groddar, and seemed to pulsate with evil power.
The demons fell to their knees before the terrible being, and Gessam followed the sudden inclination to do so as well. "My lord,� Rash�nakasha cried, bent down so low that his nose touched the sand, �You honour us with your presence.�
�Master,� added Petsuchos.
�Yeah,� Groddar said respectfully, �You look real mighty in yer form.�
The other demons stared awkwardly at the camel-demon. �What?� the beast asked, �He looks strong.�
The Demon Lord Asmodeus smiled, patting Groddar on the head. The camel-demon seemed to radiate pride from this gesture. �Indeed I do,� the gargantuan being boomed, �It is a mighty demon in which I abide at this moment.� He looked to Gessam, the demonic grin still etched upon his face. �What say you?�
�Impressive,� the man babbled, �Magnificent! Glorious! Spectacular! You are truly mighty!�
The demon laughed. �I am glad that you think so.� Then the demon reared its head up and let out a high-pitched screech as black mist swirled out of its mouth, travelling into that of Rash�nakasha. The jackal-demon�s eyes flickered, then glowed bright red like the eyes of the other demon, whose once-crimson orbs were now black as caves.
�I am able to take the form of any of my followers,� Asmodeus�s voice boomed from Rash�nakasha�s mouth. Then the demon raised his head, as if baying to the moon, and screeched as the black mist churned up out of his mouth and entered that of Groddar. The red glow came to the camel-demon�s eyes, having left those of Rash�nakasha. �It is nothing to control the body,� Groddar explained in the booming voice. Then up flung Groddar�s head, screeching as the black mist swirled out and flew into Petsuchos�s giant maw. The crocodile-demon grinned, looking Gessam straight in the face, �Once you have mastery over the soul.� He finished the sentence, then opened his jaws wide. The last thing the bewildered merchant saw was the black mist swirling out from the crocodile�s mouth, blotting out his vision, plunging him into darkness. Then his eyesight returned, although it was framed by a crimson glow. He tried to move, but found that he could not. The feeling was still in his limbs, yet the movement was not. It was as if his body was no longer his own.
What the hell has happened? Gessam�s thoughts echoed in his own head. Suddenly, he felt his mouth open of its own volition, and from it sprang the booming words �And I see that mastery of your soul is complete as well. Good. Good, I see that you know your place with me.� Gessam�s head raised and he screeched involuntarily as the black mist billowed from his own mouth and reentered that of the giant black demon.
Gessam fell forward, stunned. Slowly, he got back into his kneeling position, then looked around at his party. The demons all seemed to glow with pride, as if they had been hand-picked out of millions of others for some great honour. Gessam reasoned that this was because of their Lord�s presence in their bodies; even he felt a guilty twinge of pride for having been possessed.
The Demon Lord seemed to sense this. Laughing aloud, he boomed, �And now, I see you have brought me a healthy number of people. Excellent.� He raised one enormous claw and clacked the digits together. Instantly, out of the pit jumped a demon covered in brown fur with cloven hooves, hoof-like hands, and a horse�s tail and head (although no horse Gessam had ever seen had such long, sharp teeth or wicked eyes*). The horse-demon was bare-backed and wore a pair of tan pants. Neighing angrily, the creature plucked a long hair from his tail, which instantly elongated and turned into a huge whip. Then the horse demon whinnied as he ran to the back of the slave line, whipping and beating the poor slaves as he herded them into the pit.
Gessam watched this spectacle calmly; so calmly that it almost scared him. He just did not seem to care about the people at all. He couldn�t help it. The apathy was just too strong.
Suddenly, Rash�nakasha grabbed the last slave in the line. He was an old man, whose head was bereft of any hair it once had in his youth. �We have been travelling all day,� the jackal-demon said to his master, �And we are tired. This man is frail and is little more than skin and bones; he�s barely worth bothering with.� He coughed respectfully. �Do you catch my meaning?�
�Indeed,� Asmodeus smiled evilly, cutting the old man free from the other slaves, �You may have him.�
Instantly, Gessam�s demons lunged, roaring and shrieking, on the man. Blood spattered as they tore him apart, greedily shoving all that they could into their ravenous maws. Gessam stared in horror and disgust at the gorging creatures. Sensing this, Asmodeus walked over to Gessam, placing a claw on his shoulder.
�And now for your payment,� the Demon Lord grinned, handing the still-shocked Gessam a small pouch, �It is yours, as is Trojon,� he indicated to the horse demon, �And Dek�Krell, who will guide you to your destination and guard you as you leave.� He indicated to a mound of sand, which seemed to move around as if something was tunneling underneath.
Gessam pried his eyes away from the gluttonous demons to look at the pouch. Slowly, tentatively, he opened the drawstrings. Suddenly, before his eyes spread a large table laden with many rich delicacies. He looked up at his new business-partner. �You-you cannot seriously expect me to eat,� he gasped, �Not-not after seeing this!� He waved to the demons as they ate noisily.
Asmodeus smiled patiently. �Come now. Do you really care for that man? You humans raise and hunt animals for food. It is natural for you; humans are, when it comes down to it, just predators. We demons are predators as well, except that we crave a different kind of flesh; human flesh. Do not ask me why; there are some things even I do not know. It is natural for us.�
Still, Gessam was unconvinced. Gritting his teeth to retain his patience, Asmodeus continued. �You think that the urban jungle of your human society is not free of predators? What about the businessmen, the merchants, the men of royalty? Do they not vie for supremacy over one another? Do they not prey on those less capable then themselves, weeding out the weak so that only the strong survive? Is that not how nature works? Believe me, when one is as old as I am, one gains insight into many things. Human civilization is not as different from nature as your people pride it as being; on the contrary, it is almost exactly the same. You live in a man-made wilderness where the strong succeed and the weak fail, where predators compete with one another and prey upon those who cannot fend for themselves, where every life is centered around surviving sheerly for the sake of not dying, no matter what the cost; just as it is in nature.� Gessam�s moral resolve was crumbling; all that was needed now was the final push. �I am giving you the chance to become a predator, to survive in the wilderness of man and nature. You must take my offer, for there are only predators and prey in either world; and if you do not choose to become a predator, then I assure you, I will personally turn you into my prey.�
Gessam paused, deep in thought. Two wars waged within him, between his conscience, desperately telling him to turn back from the evil, to not succumb to the demon�s temptation. The other side, strengthened substantially by the demons� evil presence, told him to embrace this opportunity, to become a predator, instead of spending his life as prey; it told him that only death awaited him if he refused�
Gessam looked at the table piled high with food. A chair had appeared beside him, seemingly out of no where, beckoning to him to sit down and eat. Then he looked at the demons, still gorging on their gory feast. Then he looked back to the inviting chair, the oh-so inviting chair, and the wonderful, delicious feast�
To hell with it, Gessam thought. What did people mean to him, anyway? Had they cared about him when he had fallen flat on his face? Had his creditors shown the least bit of sympathy for him when he had owed them money? He had been weak � he had been prey � and they had hunted him down like the predators that they were. They couldn�t help doing so; it was their nature.
Now he would be a predator. And he intended to follow his nature.
Gessam sat down and tore into the meal ravenously. He had not eaten since before midday yesterday, and his stomach demanded to be filled. And he would meet this demand; something told him that, if he kept in this line of business, then he would never be unable to meet this demand again.
Suddenly, Petsuchos stopped as he gorged in the old man�s flesh. Choking on the meat in his own mouth, he regurgitated with a gout of flammable spit, soaking Rash�nakasha, who was directly in front of him. The jackal-demon looked up; Groddar did not even notice. Rash�nakasha glared at the stunned crocodile-demon; he knew what was happening here, and he knew that it had to be dealt with.
*But then again, he had seen very few horses. Such beasts were usually specially imported from the lands up North, and could only be afforded by wealthy people.
* * * * *
Gessam went to sleep after eating his fill that night. The small pouch would spring forth a grand feast every time he opened it; such was its enchantment. All the while, Groddar kept watch over his master and Trojon silently conferred with Dek�krell as to their next destination. Meanwhile, Petsuchos lay curled up in the sand, deep in his own thoughts.
�Ah, Petsuchos,� interrupted the voice of Rash�nakasha, �I�ve been meaning to talk to you.�
The jackal-demon sat down beside the crocodile-demon�s head. For the sake of retaining his dignity, he forced himself to resist the urge to sit like a dog and instead sat cross-legged, although it felt unnatural. He looked at his comrade. �How do you feel?� he asked.
Petsuchos quickly threw up a fa�ade of anger. �What kind of stupid question is that?� he growled.
Rash�nakasha nodded. He recognized this for what it was. �He�s having an effect on you,� the jackal-demon said, �Our presence alongside the human makes him become evil. However, it appears that his presence alongside you is softening you in turn.�
Petsuchos uncurled and rose. �Are you saying that I�m weak?� he snarled, his tail lashing back and forth menacingly.
�Not at all,� Rash�nakasha said quickly, then added, �At least, not physically. You were, however, created wrong; you feel too strongly, and I don�t mean the feelings that you are supposed to. There�s nothing wrong with anger, hatred and other such emotions � they�re all part of what a demon is � but you know the weak human feelings as well. For instance, you feel things like sorrow, friendship, love,� he noticed Petsuchos flinch at this, �Yes, I know. Felina was equally flawed in her creation, which may have made you two so attracted to each other. Such mistakes rarely happen in our birth, but when they do, they can be disastrous. And I fear that the presence of the human has reinforced your weakness. Believe me, it does not bode well for you.�
Petsuchos continued glaring at Rash�nakasha. Finally, he said, �So what can I do about it?�
Rash�nakasha smirked. Then he reached into Petsuchos�s vest and pulled out the torch. With a few magic words, the torch flashed green flame, then was blown out. �The influence of his good will drain from you into this torch,� Rash�nakasha explained, �As will whatever feelings and other mental weaknesses you possess. So long as it remains in tact, so shall your evil.�
Petsuchos grinned. He could feel the good draining already. �Thanks,� he said.
Rash�nakasha smirked as well. �Do not say such things. You�re evil again, remember?�
* * * * *
For the next fifteen years, Gessam served the Demon Lord. After travelling South to the lands controlled by other desert tribes, he continued to ply his newfound trade, capturing droves of humans and exchanging them for larger and larger numbers of treasures, luxuries, and more demons for use in his ever-growing party.
It took little time for Gessam to be purged of all semblance of good he once possessed. As the years wore on, he became more and more wicked, growing fatter and fatter from three gluttonously large meals every day. Eventually, his following grew into the thousands, which he used to disastrous effect. By the height of his career, there were lines of hundreds of slaves, captured from cities and smaller tribes of desert nomads, trudging across the desert to their doom, escorted by many powerful demons (most of whom bore semblance to some sort of beast). They meant nothing to Gessam; they were goods, to be traded to the consumer for money and other luxuries. It was all business.
Meanwhile, in the city of Gessal�lashk, Soloel Ibn Tah�Yallan grew up strong and proud under the care of Dolo Ibn Ahamabad. Those of Dolo�s friends and comrades who had lived to see their old age were obliged to help train the young Saloel, and under their guidance he turned into an extraordinary warrior. By the age of 25 years, he was as great a warrior as had ever been. Dolo was proud of him for this, and the part of him that still nagged him for his sin was quieted somewhat by this one small victory.
However, over the fifteen years after the fateful night during which Gessam had sold himself to the Demon Lord�s service, many reports came in of a steadily growing demonic horde to the South of the Sanissad tribe�s border. Whispers of thousands of bestial demons that would sweep through a town and whisk away its inhabitants to be eaten alive by their demonic brethren could be heard in every marketplace and inn. These worrisome tales spoke of the terrible destruction caused by these slavers, and the name of the Caravan, as it was dubbed, was spoken fearfully everywhere in the desert.
And so two lives, those of Gessam and Saloel, once brought together for a brief moment, then flung far apart to take different courses, would soon meet again in a flurry of blood and blade.
* * * * *
Saloel knelt in his adopted father�s garden. It was large and luscious, rife with exotic palms, ferns and other forms of beautiful plant and flower. Laced with many stone pathways, there was a great abundance of birds, tiny frogs, and small, chirping bugs. Saloel liked the place; it relaxed his mind and allowed him to recuperate his strength.
Before Saloel, lying quietly on the cobbles before him, was his sabre. It was a fine weapon; crafted by the best smiths in Gessal�lashk, it shone in the shafts of sunlight that penetrated the canopy of palms. It had only ever tasted the necks of practice dummies, however; it had never been tested in real battle, although the day when it � and he � would test their mettle (and metal � geddit?) in battle would come soon enough.
Saloel pretended not to notice as the bulky figure of Omal, friend of Dolo and one of his own personal trainers, ponderously walked up behind him. Wheezing slightly, Omal sat heavily down beside the young man. Old age and lack of practice had weighed on the former ormslayer, yet the old war-dog was still as deadly with a bardiche as he had ever been. His face was round, covered in stubble and streaked with pink scar tissue. Several of his teeth were golden, having been knocked out in previous battles with horrible creatures of the desert. Beneath his long, flowing shawl, his head was bald from a particularly frenzied encounter with a fire-breathing serpent. It had taken his hair, and he had taken its life. A fair trade, as far as he was concerned.
Omal looked at the boy, smiling kindly. �How do you do?� he asked.
�Fine,� Saloel responded shortly, his expression unchanging.
Omal shrugged. For a while, the two sat in silence. Finally, Omal asked �Does something trouble you, my lad?�
�No,� Saloel said, �Nothing troubles me.�
Omal frowned disapprovingly. �I wish not for you to lie that I may be put at ease,� he said, �Something troubles you; I know this. There is no shame in telling me.�
Saloel sighed. �Very well,� he conceded, �It has almost been exactly fifteen years since my parents � my real parents � were taken away.�
A long pause followed. Omal, however, could read a face like a book. �You miss them, no?� he asked.
Saloel looked the old man in the eye, his dark skin blushing. Omal waved his hand. �It is alright,� he said, �You need not feel abashed for saying so. Dolo would understand; he knows you can never truly call him father, and does not wish for you to forget your old parents. Why else would he allow you to keep the name of Ibn Tah�Yallan*?�
Now, Saloel was thoroughly embarrassed. Omal continued, �Look, we have never placated you with tales of �Your parents may still be alive� as others may have done, for such would only lead to disappointment. Believe us; the man who took them from you will eventually receive his just rewards. Who knows,� he shrugged, �Perhaps you shall be the one to give them to him.�
The conversation was interrupted by a tall, frail man in a long, flowing yellow and white cloak. While Omal�s face spoke of a man who had seen many a battle and brought away a trophy in the shape of a scar from each one, this man�s face was streaked only with wrinkles from old age. This was a deceptive characteristic; he was actually a man so skilled and cunning, in the art of swordsmanship, few adversaries had lived long enough to land a blow on his body. His name was Alashk Ibn Alhalyn, and his ancient face was now creased with worry. �Omal, Saloel, come quickly,� he said, �Dolo has sent for you. There is something that you must both see.�
Alashk led the two hurriedly out the garden and into the streets, then to the gate of the main city. From there, they could see a mass exodus of people coming along the road running through the farmland. There were all sorts of people; men, women, children, warriors, peasants, all from a range of different tribes by the look of them.
�They arrived not long ago,� Alashk explained, �Apparently, they flee from the Caravan, which is advancing steadily Northwards. Nobody can stand up against it, nobody can stop it��
�Or so they think,� came a familiar voice from behind them. The three men turned to see Dolo, his hand on the blade in his belt. �They have come here for protection, for what city is better fortified than Gessal�lashk? This is a sure sign that the time to act has come; the Caravan must be stopped, and we of the Sanissad shall be the ones to stop it.�
Alashk nodded, looking out at the refugees. �Still,� he said, �We shall need a good deal of men to do such a thing. Currently, the threat is still beyond our borders. This will create complications.�
Dolo nodded. He had dealt with political people before; they always tried to complicate things. The kindest thing Saloel had ever heard Dolo call them was �conniving jackals� or �dirty bastards�. They were only ever looking out for themselves, and were often very devious � that�s how they gained their power. They praised the king slavishly (�They probably wipe his arse for him, as well,� Dolo had once remarked) and were constantly bickering with and back-stabbing one another. Still, they held the most sway, and any request had to be put past them before it could be granted.
Dolo looked to the mob of refugees. �I shall find whatever leader they may have, tell him to bring his plight before the king with me. You, Saloel, shall keep training, for I feel it will not be long before you have your first taste of battle.�
*Or �Son of Tah�Yallan�; if it were changed to signify Dolo�s fatherhood, it would be �Ibn Dolo�.
* * * * *
Night had fallen, smothering the once sweltering city with its cool darkness. Saloel walked the streets, unable to sleep. There was so much to think about; the approach of the Caravan near the day of his family�s death, whether or not permission to attack the Caravan first would be given, what would happen either way�all of these thoughts swirled like an unstoppable cyclone through his head, driving away all chance of sleep.
As Saloel walked, a figure, robed and cowled in black, almost as tall as he, with a long sabre attached to his sash, stepped out from the shadows and fell in step with the young man. Saloel pretended to think nothing of it; he merely turned a corner in order to loose his new follower. No such luck; the cowled stalker kept walking with him, and was, in fact, joined by another, slightly taller, robed figure.
Gradually, as the increasingly nervous Saloel kept walking, he was joined by three more cloaked men, each one with a long sabre in their belt. Finally, as one, they all stopped . The first figure held out a hand to stop Saloel moving any further.
�As you may have guessed,� came a hushed whisper of a voice from within the first figure�s hood, �We were part of the refugees who came to this town. We were unable to pack even what little we used to own before fleeing the Caravan�s wrath. Thus, we are here to compensate our losses,� the figures hand strayed to the blade at his side, �If you know what I mean.�
Saloel spat. �Through robbery?�
�You could call it that,� another figure, directly behind him, muttered.
Saloel was like a blur. His blade flashed out as he whirled around, delivering the man who had just spoken a terrible gash across the arm. Instantly, the other men around them had their own blades out, ready for a fight.
One at his right struck a decapitating blow. Saloel ducked and parried as another hacked down at him. Then he kicked out, taking his most previous attacker in the gut, and got up, striking a powerful blow, which shattered another attacker�s blade as he blocked. Saloel whirled around, blocking every attack offered by his assailants, and delivering several well-placed blows himself. He did not wish to kill these people, but they were thieves, and they were leaving him little choice.
Finally, one of the attackers, the first person to speak to him, struck a wide blow that exposed himself. Saloel drove into the attacker with his shoulder, barreling the figure into a nearby building. Then, before the rest of the gang could react, Saloel swung, his blade stopping a fraction of an inch from his adversary�s neck.
�Stand back,� the young man ordered, �Or else your friend�s head will roll.�
Reluctantly, the other men backed down. Slowly, they slunk back into the shadows and disappeared. �Well,� Saloel muttered, �I suppose that is what you call honour among thieves. Now,� he addressed the hooded robber, �Reveal your face to me.�
Hesitantly, the robed warrior pulled away the hood to reveal a female face underneath. A beautiful female face. Saloel was taken aback by this indeed.
�Please,� the woman pleaded, eyeing the shadows, �You have much and we have nothing. We are paupers here. Can you spare us no charity?�
Saloel paused, then took his blade from the woman�s throat. He sheathed it, then handed her a small pouch of coins. �It is all that I have on me,� he said coldly, �Now leave me be.�
Wordlessly, the woman took the pouch, and stared at it, stunned. Then her head shot up and she tackled Saloel to the ground as an arrow flew by, bouncing off the side of a building. As Saloel and the woman both rose, he saw the rest of the gang, one of whom held a bow and arrows, looking somewhat embarrassed.
For a while, Saloel and the hooded figures stared at one another in awkward silence. Then the woman spoke up. �Do not think that you are safe behind these walls. The Caravan grows with every town it takes. It is now said to number over a thousand, and these are no ordinary demons. These are demons of special power, as is signified by their bestial features. Before long, after they destroy some more villages and their numbers have grown significantly enough, they will come here, and your army shall not be able to stop them. The demons shall sunder your walls and swarm into your city. Then, with any luck, they shall go on a giant rampage, killing everything and everyone they see.�
�And if we are unlucky?� Saloel asked.
�If you are unlucky,� the woman said coldly, �Then the demons will take your population as slaves and herd them off into the desert, and whatever happens then, it will only add more demons to the Caravan.� She looked him straight in the eye. �If Gessal�lashk falls, the Caravan will become powerful enough to take over the rest of the desert, and then perhaps all of Gaelia.�
Saloel nodded in understanding. �That is why my adopted father is going to the king to request permission to attack the Caravan before they are too powerful.
The woman nodded. �Pray that he succeeds,� she muttered, �So, do you know of any places where we can find lodging for the night?�
�Have you tried any of the inns?� Saloel asked.
�Yes,� another one of the group responded, �They are all full. Most of the other refugees got there before we could.�
Saloel nodded. �Well, you can stay at my home,� he suggested, �My adopted father is sheltering other refugees there. You are welcome, if you wish.�
The woman paused, looking to the rest of her gang. They were silent, unmoving. Finally, she said �Thank you for your offer. We accept.�
* * * * *
Saloel got to know his former assailants fairly quickly. There was Damushk, Kahuman, Mehumman, al-Yidin, and Emina, the woman who he had spoken to. They were not evil people, just desperate. They were all very skilled warriors, having been raised in a small desert tribe, where everyday life is a constant struggle for survival. When the Caravan had come to overtake their tribe, however, only the five of them had escaped. All had vowed to bring vengeance for their fallen kin.
When they arrived at Dolo�s home, only Dolo�s wife and a few other homeless refugees were present. Saloel quickly showed the five to a chamber, then went to his own to try to get some rest.
Saloel collapsed on his bed without even shedding his clothes. He lay back, staring at the ceiling for several eternal moments, unable to find a single wink of sleep. Compared to the rest of the house, which was furnished with fine rugs, ornate vases, mirrors, and other ornaments, Saloel�s room was relatively bare. All that he kept was his bed, a small pile of clothes, and a mantle upon which was held Felina�s blade; Mazzor had given it to him not long after Gessam�s disappearance, telling the younger Saloel that he would need it later in life. Saloel had kept it ever since.
There was a knock at his door. �Come in,� Saloel muttered. Slowly, the door opened inward, revealing Emina. Her face was expressionless as she came to his bed and sat down beside him.
There was a long pause during which silence reigned supreme. Finally, Saloel sat up. �Why have you come here?� he asked.
�I need to ask you something,� Emina said. She paused, as if gathering her thoughts, then asked, �Why did you not take my head when you had the chance? Under the same circumstances, I would have shown you no mercy. And you not only spared my life, but gave me charity and my friends a place to rest, even after we tried to kill and rob you. Why did you do this?�
Saloel shrugged. �You are not my enemy,� he responded, �Nor are you and your gang evil people. You are merely men and women in an unfortunate situation, and Dolo always taught me to give such people as you charity instead of scorn.� He sighed, �It�s a lesson that he learned the hard way.�
�How do you mean?� Emina asked. So Saloel told her of Dolo�s treatment of Gessam, and how it turned him into what he had become. When the tale was finished, the woman nodded stiffly. �So it was your father who brought this curse upon us?�
�My adopted father,� Saloel said, �And I shall tell you that it was his actions that killed my real family as they did your own. However, I do not hold it against him; he has felt remorse for his wrongdoings, and has changed himself that he may never make the same mistake again.�
The two stared at one another for a while. Finally, Emina broke eye-contact. �It�s different here,� she said, looking away from Saloel, �In my old tribe, any guest of ours who came to our village and tried to rob one of our people would have been hunted down like an animal and slain pitilessly. Yet you forgive us, you understand our situation. You know that we are weak, less capable of survival than yourself, yet you help us back to our feet, even though we have fallen and tried to bring you down as well. I mean, supposing we were to try to take advantage of you, to use you and then toss you away when we no longer need you? You must know that we are capable of this. So why do you still help us?�
Saloel raised his hand to touch Emina�s cheek and gently moved her face to face his own. �Call it compassion if you wish,� he said.
For another moment, their eyes locked. Then, without thinking, Saloel�s head moved towards her own, which moved towards his in turn.
The two kissed.
And fell back on the bed, still locked in eachother�s embrace.
* * * * *
Dolo�s wife, Demira, walked casually by the door of Saloel�s bedchamber. The sight of the two lovers did not shock her; she simply closed the door as quietly as she could.
She did not judge them. Either of them. She had no reason to. When she had met Dolo, a similar thing had occurred. In fact, most ormslayers who lived to take wives often found their love in a flurry of passionate union. Dolo had been no different.
Neither, apparently, was Saloel.
* * * * *
Omal and Alashk waited outside the gates of the palace�s wall. Dolo and the leader of the refugees had been requested to come alone. Had it not been an order by the king himself, Dolo would have roared at the unfortunate message bearer that anything that could be said to him could be said in front of his friends. As it was, he merely fumed about it on his way to the meeting place.
Finally, at about midnight, a bitter Dolo and a somewhat subdued refugee leader came out to meet the two. By the expressions on their faces, Omal and Alashk needn�t have asked what the outcome had been. Still, just to dissipate any doubt, Omal asked, �How did your case fare?�
Dolo sighed in frustration. �I have been denied. Any military presence of ours in the lands of a tribe that did not call for our aid could be considered an invasion. Besides, apparently it is not our problem.� He literally spat out the last three words.
Omal and Alashk exchanged glances. �So what do we do now?� Alashk asked.
�I don�t know,� Dolo sighed, �We shall need to think about it. Meanwhile, unrested men cannot make good decisions as can rested ones; lets us go home and meet again in the morning, that we may better ponder our situation.�
Nodding, Omal and Alashk bid farewell and walked off. Meanwhile, the leader of the refugees, a man in the middle of his life, looked to Dolo. �You realize that we cannot wait for the Caravan to make the first move,� he said.
Dolo nodded. �We shall plan what to do later,� he said, �In the mean time, you are welcome in my home. Let us go now; as I have said, an unrested head cannot be trusted to make as good decision as a rested one.�
The other man nodded, but said nothing. As they walked to Dolo�s villa, the old ex-ormslayer thought of many things. He had caused this scourge to be, and it was his responsibility to make sure that it stopped. How, he would have to figure out in the morning.
Who knew how much the Caravan could have grown in that amount of time.
* * * * *
Gessam sat behind his latest glutinous feast in his luxurious tent. Outside, it was the size of a small yurt and easily as modest. Inside, however, it was as large, magnificent and dazzling as any palace.
Petsuchos appeared at his master�s side. He was now a mere pawn of the Caravan�s leader; Gessam had lost all traces of good he had once had, even so far as he could no longer feel companionship with anything or anyone else. All that swelled within his black heart now was cruelty, hedonistic desire, and all-consuming greed. His belly � and, indeed, his entire body � had bulged to disgusting proportions. Drool, drink and pieces of food dripped down his many chins and onto his fine spun-gold clothes. This did not bother him; he had an entire wardrobe of these fine wares.
�You had called for me, my master?� Petsuchos asked. By now, he too had been drained of absolutely every redeeming quality by the power of his magic torch. He was colder and crueler than most demons by this point, and saw Gessam only as an employer.
Gessam belched. �I�ve a job for you. Go to my treasury and bring me a sack with 5000 pieces of gold, an iron spike, some papyrus and a small child. I�ve some unfinished business to attend to.�
* * * * *
The next morning, Dolo, Omal, Alashk, and the refugees� leader, Mohum, had gathered at Dolo�s villa to discuss their plans.
�It is true,� Dolo said, �That we need to eliminate the threat before it reaches our gates. But what we have to ask ourselves is how to do so. We need men, many more than any of us can offer.�
�I am not so sure,� Omal grinned, �You see, before I let my unrested head get some sleep, I went to see al-Hama, the current leader of the Demonhunters� guild. He says that he is willing to send a thousand of his men to aid us in our journey.�
�And I have spoken to Fahurri,� Alashk smiled, �He has agreed to join, us as well. You should know him; apparently, you yelled at him fifteen years ago tomorrow. Since then, he has gained a position as general of one of our city�s larger regiments. It totals about 5000 men, all ranks,� he added with satisfaction.
�Very well,� Dolo said, �But there still remains one problem. If we go out to combat the Caravan in another tribe�s land, against the king�s orders, we can expect nothing good upon our return.� He sighed, �This is our final dilemma, one that effects every man in the army we lead out.�
Suddenly, a somewhat shaken member of Dolo�s bodyguard came in. His face was a mask of worry as his trembling hand offered his employer a roll of papyrus, while dumping a sack on the floor with another. There was a metallic clatter as he did. Dolo unrolled the parchment. It was written in dull red characters, and said�
To Dolo Ibn Ahamabad,
Here is the money that I owe you, plus fifteen years� worth of interest. I just thought that, since you are the one and only reason for my current wealth, I would repay you what I have owed you for so long. Forgive the lateness in the money�s deliverance; I am a busy man, as you probably already know.
I certainly hope that you enjoy this money. The children of a village gave their lives for it, and I am sure that you would not waste their selflessness. In fact, it may interest you to know that a young boy�s blood was donated to the writing of this letter. At the moment, my demon-servant is eating the poor whelp like a kebab.
Yours in Gratefulness, Gessam Ibn Korrishk.
Post Script: Was it worth it?
Dolo roared in anger as he tore the letter in half. Bellowing out in rage, he lifted his chair and smote it upon the floor. Then, seething, he looked to his friends, who watched him with concern and some apprehension.
�Notify your connections,� he ordered, �We leave today, and will not return without that bastard Gessam�s head mounted on a pike!�
* * * * *
It took a very short time to mobilize the soldiers and leave Gessal�lashk. 6500 men, including archers, swordsmen, spearmen, battle-axe men, and camelry, not to mention the wide assortment of other weaponry held by the Demonhunters, exited the city gates early that day and commenced the long journey across the desert to make war upon the Caravan. Saloel, who had taken both his own blade and Felina�s, and Emina walked with the rest of their friends. Omal, Alashk, al-Hama and Fahurri rode upon mighty war-horses � rare and valuable beasts in this land � behind Dolo, who rode up ahead of the entire army, his blade ever unsheathed and a grim expression etched upon his weathered features. He had vowed that it would not see his belt again until it had tasted Gessam�s throat.
It was not only the curious citizens of Gessal�lashk who watched the procession, however. Far atop a distant dune, the sands shifted as something moved beneath them. Dek�Krell, the watcher and guide below the sands, knew what was coming.
This army would be very bad for business. Something had to be done.
Through the subterranean demon�s earth-piercing eye, Asmodeus saw all of this as well. �Worry not, my servant,� the voice boomed, �They shall not last long��
* * * * *
Groddar stood guard at the flap of Gessam�s tent. He needn�t have bothered; anybody who wanted to get at Gessam would need to face an army of bestial demons first, and then pass by the giant brute. Still, it was out of some sort of whim that Groddar was kept there on guard. Oh well; the master would have his small fancies.
Suddenly, it registered in Groddar�s small brain that the sand was shifting, moving in his direction. Finally it stopped, and, with a shriek, black smoke broke from the ground and forced its way into the giant camel-demon�s mouth. Groddar did not resist; in fact, he welcomed it. He enjoyed the tainted touch of his true master.
His eyes aglow, Groddar � or rather, Asmodeus in Groddar�s willing body � surged forth, enjoying the exhilaration of such free movement. He ran faster and faster, as only magic would allow, until finally he was as a tawny blur flashing across the desert. Suddenly, he stopped abruptly atop a sand dune, approximately 5 hour�s march from Dolo�s current position.
Then, Asmodeus fell to his new body�s knees. Chanting in the camel-demon�s grating voice, he sifted through the sand with his claws, causing thousands of ripples to form in the dunes, ripples that grew, expanded, took on shape�
When finally the spell was completed, Asmodeus rose and admired his work. It had been much too long since he had personally led one of his own armies against one of men. It would be very pleasant to do so once again.
Ah, the memories�
* * * * *
Five hours passed, and still the march continued. Finally, Dolo�s army came to a point where they came across two giant dunes, rising up alongside one another and creating something of a canyon. The army traveled between them; it was the fastest route to their destination.
As the former ormslayer led the army, Dolo suddenly noticed something stirring in the sand but a few metres ahead. Calling his army to a halt, they watched as a large, camel-headed figure rose, roaring, from the sand, its eyes aglow. �You will all perish here and now, mortals!� it rumbled, then let out a great bellow.
Several things then happened, all in rapid succession. In the middle of the army, many giant brutes burst up, similarly roaring, from the sands, and started attacking the men around them. Atop the dunes, swarms of hideous demons appeared, shrieking as they bore down upon the men below them. The sands at the rear of the army, an area mainly occupied by supply wagons and archers, raised up into a sheer face, tipping the wagons and their shocked beasts of burden up to fall upon the heads of their own army. From there, the battle began in earnest.
Roaring, Groddar charged forward, eyes glowing angrily. With one slice from his giant bardiche, he decapitated Dolo�s horse, causing the beast�s body to tumble to the ground with its master. Groddar raised his axe to kill the old man, but grunted as an expertly thrown knife took him in the chest. Swiveling his head, he saw Omal, now dismounted, hefting his own giant bardiche. �You are mine, beast!� he snarled.
Groddar snorted angrily, then pushed his head forward and shrieked as Asmodeus flowed out of his jaws to find another host. This was quite all right; he looked forward to this battle.
As Omal engaged Groddar in a personal battle, Alashk wrought death and destruction upon the demons with twin sabres. Slashing equally skillfully with both blades (he was an ambidextrous man), he carved a path of slain demons as he searched for the young Saloel.
Most of these demons were nothing to worry about for one such as him. They were grunts; mere infantry warriors which could be defeated by a lone soldier. Akin to no type of beast in Gaelia, they were nothing to worry about alone, but large numbers of them were a terrible nemesis. They were not the main concern; what he needed to do was find Saloel.
Suddenly, he caught a glimpse of his quarry, fighting valiantly against the hordes of demons. He and his new friends had formed a circle and now stood atop a pile of dead demons. Alashk allowed himself a brief smile; the boy had been trained well.
He then turned his attentions to the brutes in the middle of the army. There was a good number of them, and they were causing awful havoc. Slicing off the head of a nearby demon as he did so, Alashk hurried towards the brutes, who he would be most useful against. Luckily, the Demonhunters had seen fit to concentrate mostly upon the gargantuan demons. Specially trained as they were, they stood a much better chance then any of the other soldiers.
Alashk found one brute. Unlike Groddar, these resembled no animal, and almost looked human (except for the spines, claws, fangs, horns, abnormal skin colors and textures, and the occasional extra limbs). This being was 11 feet tall, with two big, bulky arms, a barrel-shaped torso, and legs like the trunks of trees. Its head had no visible eyes, but a huge, snuffling nose and a pair of large, pig-like ears.
Roaring, the beast swung a large fist at Alashk. Dodging nimbly aside, the warrior darted forward, swinging his swords in a scissor-like motion at the brutes belly, then jumped aside as the beast�s guts spilled out (there was a lot of them). As the brute keeled over, roaring painfully as it tried to keep its intestines in, Alashk raised his left blade and swung it down hard, beheading the loathsome creature. Then he turned, throwing his right blade as he did. The sabre flashed through the air, eventually embedding itself between another brute�s eyes*. The demon let out a deep rumble as it fell forward, scattering the Demonhunters that were already attacking it.
Alashk then took his blade in both hands and ran forward, carving a lesser demon in half as he did. He stopped by the slain brute�s body only long enough to wrench his blade free, then attacked yet another demon. Fortunately, its back was exposed to him; the foul beast was already occupied with several Demonhunters. Lunging up, Alashk swung at the creature�s back, severing its spine. Then he ran to find another adversary as the latest brute fell, moaning as it died under the relentless blades of its original adversaries. It never knew what hit it.
The next brute was carrying a large, heavy club. Scaly and violet-coloured, the creature had two ugly heads and a large tail, and Alashk thought he saw six fingers on each hand. The brute�s heads both roared as it swung at him. Alashk dove forward, rolling under the creature�s legs and, righting himself quickly, he stabbed into the creature�s thick tail.
Roaring in pain, the brute�s fifth appendage swung about wildly, causing Alashk to lose his hold on his blade. Jumping over the swinging tail and onto the beast�s back, Alashk climbed up a few more feet and slashed both of the beast�s heads off with one blow.
As the brute toppled forward, Alashk rolled gracefully off the creature�s back and looked up. For some reason, the giant wall of sand still stood, towering above the army. At the moment, a wisp of black smoke was moving towards it. As the foul smog disappeared into the giant face of the sand, there was a high pitched shriek, which turned quickly into a horrible boom.
Then, before Alashk�s disbelieving eyes, the great wall of sand grew a pair of giant arm-like protrusions, the grains that made them up held together by some terrible form of magic. Then it moved forward, upturning man and demon alike as it did. As it advanced, Alashk saw it raise one of its giant fists, and had the sudden feeling that it was looking at him.
Alashk thought of retrieving his other blade, then decided it would take too much time. Charging forward, his remaining blade held in both hands, he wondered just what it was he expected to accomplish by his actions. He had never faced something of this sort before; in fact, there was no record of anyone ever having done so.
Then the giant fist came down. Too late to dodge, Alashk cried out in defiance as he swung at the appendage.
His efforts were to no avail.
If ever another scream passed Alashk�s lips, it was muffled by the tons of sand that bore down on him, crushing the man�s body and burying him completely.
* * * * *
Omal jumped aside as Groddar brought his great bardiche smashing into the ground where he had one stood. Pausing momentarily to cut a swath through a group of lesser demons with one mighty blow, Omal returned to the duel, swinging his bardiche expertly at the camel-demon�s legs. Jumping nimbly back, Groddar let out an animalistic grunt and roared as he retaliated, swinging his deadly weapon at Omal�s neck. Omal ducked and backed away. Then, holding his axe ready to strike, he edged forward and swung, forcing Groddar to back away.
By now, Groddar was becoming very angry. He had never faced such an opponent before; no foe had ever possessed such skill, such strength, such power. Mortals were supposed to be weak, puny creatures who could be scattered and slain with one blow, not like this. It was not just the challenge that enraged Groddar; it was the unforgivable breach in normality, as well.
No matter. This man would die like all the others.
Some part of Groddar�s dull mind, however, told him that to surrender to blind rage would only seal his fate. He needed to keep all his wits about him for this battle, and oh, how he would savor the victory!
Meanwhile, it was any man�s (or demon�s) battle being waged. Hundreds of dead men littered the ground, and five times that amount of demons lay dead as well. Fahurri and al-Hama had died fighting back-to-back against an overwhelming sea of demons. The pile that had been created between the two of them rose over the heads of all the soldiers save for the tallest of brutes. Meanwhile, the pile beneath the feet of Saloel and his friends was rapidly growing, although it now included the bodies of Damushk and Mehumman, who had kept fighting their demonic adversaries with their last breaths. For the sake of consolation, the demons that had slain the two men had been promptly added to the growing mountain as well. Dolo also fought alone, roaring out battle-cries, calling his opponents on to be slaughtered, which they all were. He was as a whirlwind of destruction and vengeance.
�What is the matter, oh be-humped one?� Omal taunted his opponent, �You cannot defeat a fat little old man? Hah! You should have taken up a career as a Nissaimi whore instead!*�
Groddar said nothing in response. Roaring, he raised his bardiche over his head and brought it down hard, causing Omal to jump to the side. Then Groddar brought his weapon sideways, smashing Omal�s bardiche from his hands and sending it twirling several meters away. Then he swung at Omal, who ducked and charged forward.
Now this was amusing. Did this unarmed mortal really think he could do anything to a brute? Apparently so, and, as Groddar soon found out, was right to. Omal jumped up, punching the brute in the groin.
Groddar�s eyes widened. He dropped his bardiche and clamped his claws on his wounded organ. Staggering and bending over, he only made himself more vulnerable to his smaller adversary. Omal bellowed out as he punched Groddar had in the gut, then, backing up, he delivered a mighty blow to the beast�s ugly features, knocking the camel-demon over onto his side with a groan. From there, he rolled onto his back. Clearly, this was no ordinary man.
From the ground nearby, Omal wrenched a discarded spear. Its shaft was split in half, but it would suit his purpose. Then the man, his scarred features grim with righteous anger, stood over the felled brute and raised the spear as a priest would raise his knife while making a sacrifice.
At that moment, Groddar�s head lunged forward.
The last thing Omal ever saw were the camel-demon�s unbelievably sharp teeth�
*The Sanissad do not always have very good relationships with other desert tribes. There have been some very rude jokes indeed made at the expense of the Nissaim people. Nobody quite knows how they got started.
* * * * *
Saloel saw it. He saw it all. He saw the wicked brute bite off the head of his old mentor, teacher and friend. He saw the beast rise up, spitting out what now looked like a crushed, gory mess, and then pull the old man�s shawl from his teeth. Then the brute looked directly at him and, grinning wickedly, picked up his bardiche and began to stride calmly up the nearest dune of sand.
Fury boiled in Saloel�s guts. Roaring, he laid into the demons with renewed vigor, trying to fight his way to the brute, to kill it, to avenge his friend�such was his berserk frenzy that the demons even began to back away from him in apprehensive fear. This did not save them; he merely cried out and charged at them, slashing about with his great sabre. Demonic blood soaked his clothes, and he bled from several small wounds, yet still nothing would stop him. He was as a cyclone of destruction.
Suddenly, it seemed that the ranks of demonic infantry began to thin and disappear altogether, fleeing into the desert. A shadow descended over the young man, who turned to look up at the giant sand monster. By now, almost every man and demon on the field was dead or fled; the bodies littering the ground numbered in the thousands for both sides. The only other thing he could see on the battlefield took the form of the gargantuan mountain of sand, which raised a fist and brought it down at him.
In that very moment, Saloel could very well have been crushed. However, something barreled him roughly aside, sending the young man flying. Saloel landed, hard the shock winding him momentarily. Painfully, he looked up to see Emina, al-Yidin, and Dolo dodging around the sand being, evading its crushing, shapeless fists. Where he had once stood now lay Kahuman, half-buried and face-down in the sand. He had given his life to save Saloel, taking the crushing blow as he pushed Saloel out of the way. This angered the young man even further; another of his friends lost to the damned demons!
Saloel got up. Planting his blade in the ground beside him, he unsheathed Felina�s sabre. Then, taking, aim, he hurled it with all his might at the sand-being.
The blade flashed in the sunlight as it twirled up into the air. It hit the sand-beast near the top of the mound that made up its body, exactly in the middle.
The sand being stopped, wavering. Then it folded its giant arms back into its body and seemed to bend forward. Gradually at first, and then in torrents, the grains of sand began to fall from the creature, revealing an awful shape beneath the towering mountain.
�Dear gods,� Emina gasped, �It is a dragon!�
Indeed it was. Nearly a hundred and fifty feet in height, it was definitely on of the largest dragons ever known to have existed. Its scales were a black on the beasts back, forearms and forelegs, which gradually receded into the dark blue of the rest of its body. Its eyes glowed red.
�Foolish mortals,� it boomed, �You will never see another dawn!�
Then the dragon lashed out with a great talon, aiming for Dolo. The old man, however, evaded the appendage and retaliated, smashing several scales with one blow from his mighty scimitar and leaving a bloody gash. Asmodeus retracted his servant�s claw with a grunt and looked at it. A flesh wound; nothing more. Then, roaring, he stomped his great, clawed foot down upon the sand, causing the earth to tremble. The warriors stumbled temporarily, giving him time to snatch up al-Yidin, throw him up into the air and catch the poor man in his maw. With a single swallow, Emina�s friend was gone.
Suddenly, Asmodeus felt a sharp pain in his foot. He looked down to see Saloel, slashing mercilessly at the beast�s foot. The dragon chuckled, then guffawed, then started laughing raucously at the puny mortal�s pitiful attempts to destroy him. Then he lashed out with his tail, intending to crush the pathetic human with it.
There was, however, no crunching of bones under the tail, no feel of blood spilling on his scales. Asmodeus looked at his tail and found that, to his bemused surprise, Saloel was climbing up it. This was indeed curious behavior. No mater; the mortal would die anyway.
Dolo saw this and, motioning for Emina to follow him, ran to the dragon�s foot and started hacking at it. This quickly took Asmodeus�s mind off of the man climbing his tail and brought it to the old ormslayer.
Sighing nonchalantly, the dragon kicked out. Dolo, however, was prepared for such; he grabbed Emina with his free hand and sank his scimitar deep into the dragon�s foot as it did, holding onto both with a vice like grip. As the dragon�s leg lifted, it catapulted Dolo and Emina high into the air and onto the creature�s shoulder.
Asmodeus swiveled his head to look in shock at the grim ormslayer. �How the hell..?� he started.
�I�ve trodden more impressive worms than you under my boot, fiend!� Dolo snarled, then ran forward to attack the creature�s neck. He knew the beast would be slow to respond; it was obviously, by its colour, a night dragon. Even possessed by its master as it was, the beast was still at its best only during the night, and was more sluggish and slow in the daytime. Still, that did not mean that it was not dangerous.
Asmodeus had other plans. Lashing and flailing about, he forced the three mortals on his body to hold on tightly for fear of the long drop to the ground below. For a moment this continued until finally the dragon, snarling in frustration, swatted at Dolo with one of his great claws. Dolo scuttled away from the large talon, then dodged again as it tried to brush him away. This time, Dolo grabbed the claw and swung from it onto the monster�s head as it moved in that direction.
Asmodeus was now absolutely furious. Roaring, he swung his head about, tearing at his own features in an attempt to get rid of the old ormslayer, who dodged nimbly around the beast�s head, clinging to and swinging from scales and horns, slashing at the dragon�s head as he did. This sort of attacking could not give him the opportunity to strike a killing blow, but it caused the creature great agony and made it lash about even more wildly.
Emina, however, who had planted her blade in the dragon�s shoulder so that she could cling to it, finally lost her hold and plummeted, screaming, over the dragon�s back. She would have fallen to her death had the great beast�s tail not swung by her, allowing Saloel to catch the woman. From there, Emina managed to gain a hold on the great beast�s lashing tail, and both held on for dear life.
Dolo, meanwhile, was beginning to lose strength. Time had taken its toll on his body, no matter what he did to postpone it, and age was bearing down on him like a leaden weight. He knew that he had to either kill the dragon quickly, or the dragon would have all the time in the world to kill him.
Dolo used all his wits to combat the beast. Dodging and weaving around, always slashing at the dragon�s face, he tried to maneuver himself towards the dragon�s temples. If he could sink his blade into one of them, the battle would be over. The dragon, however, seemed to be protecting that place in particular with his claws. Dolo grunted in frustration; those blasted talons would have to be dealt with.
Then, Dolo took a wild gamble. He jumped from the face and onto one of the claws, which he slashed across the back of with his blade. The dragon, now berserk with rage, swung out, flinging Dolo off of his body.
Now, as Dolo flew through the air, time seemed to slow about him as he looked back at the giant dragon. All else but the giant creature faded away, so that it was as if it and him were all that remained in the universe. Slowly, the creature�s cheeks seemed to bloat up in the familiar way of a dragon about to unleash its fiery breath. It was then that a realization hit him; he would not survive this battle. He was going to die.
He was going to fail.
Anger welled up inside Dolo. Now that his army had been crushed and he himself would die, Gessam would go unpunished. He would sweep through Gessal�lashk, then the entire desert, then the entire world. No army would be strong enough to stand against him. Gessam would be the death of all humanity.
And it was all his fault.
All his fault.
Well, he could at least claim one victory. As the dragon let loose its fire, Dolo swung his blade, hurling it at the beast�s head. The mighty sabre, forged of a metal not even dragon�s flame could melt, passed through the fire and hit Asmodeus straight between the eyes. It was a hard blow, well-aimed too; no dragon could withstand its like.
It was appropriate that Dolo had died having defeated his mightiest foe ever.
* * * * *
Saloel awoke not an hour later, Emina tending to him like a kind nurse. She seemed sad, as if she had lost all hope.
Emina looked Saloel in the eye. �You know what has happened, do you not?� she asked.
Saloel sat up, groaning. His entire body ached. The last thing that he remembered was the dragon falling for some reason, and then hitting his head hard. All else after that was blackness. �I do not know what has happened,� he said.
Emina sniffed, a single tear trickling down her cheek. �He is dead,� she sobbed, �Y-your father, Dolo�He is dead.�
Saloel was gaped in horror. How could this be? How could he be dead? Dolo had been as s father to him ever since his family had disappeared that fateful day 15 years ago tomorrow. He had grown up under Dolo�s tutelage, learned respect and love for the old man.
And now he was dead?
Saloel sat for a moment longer, unable to restrain his tears as he battled with the awful truth. He remembered all the times he had spent with Dolo, all that had been said, done and learned. It was unbearable, but the fact remained that Dolo would never be back.
Suddenly, he stopped and thought. Would Dolo want to see him like this? How would he serve Dolo and Omal and Alashk and all the others who had fallen this day if he merely sat and wept?
No. He could not merely give up.
Slowly, paying no heed to his aching body, Saloel rose. �I shall continue the journey,� he said grimly. He walked over to the dead dragon�s head but a few feet away and wrenched free Dolo�s scimitar, �I will not fail you,� he muttered.
Emina got up, a bewildered look in her eyes. �What are you talking about?� she gasped, running to Saloel�s side, �You cannot defeat the Caravan by yourself!�
Saloel scowled. �That means you are not coming with me?�
Emina froze, her mouth gaping. �I-I cannot�� she said.
�Then get out of my sight,� Saloel snapped, then started walking.
As Saloel started to march away, Emina begged and pleaded with him to stop. �You waste your breath, woman,� the young man replied, �I will go to find whatever fate awaits me, and you cannot stop me.�
�But you will die!� Emina cried.
�Then so be it!� Saloel yelled. Emina stopped, letting Saloel gain several more steps. Then she spoke again, her voice burdened with sorrow and desperation.
�Please,� she pleaded, �Don�t do it�For the sake of our child��
Saloel stopped dead in his tracks. �What?� he asked, confused.
He turned around to look at Emina, who merely stared back. Then the realization struck him a physical blow. �You mean�� his voice trailed off. Emina nodded.
Saloel sighed, suddenly ashamed. �Go back to Demira,� he said, �She will not let you � or our child � go wanting. Then promise me that you will raise our son or daughter for me.�
There was another pause. Then Saloel turned and continued walking. Emina stared at him for a while more, then called after him, �Please! Do not leave me! Wh-what will I tell our child of his father?�
�Tell him he was a hero,� Saloel responded. �Or a fool, I shall let you decide.�
Emina watched Saloel keep walking away a while longer. Then sniffing, she turned about and started the long journey home to Gessal�lashk.
* * * * *
That night, Saloel sat, shivering atop a lonely sand dune. The stars and the moon in the sky provided the only light; he had not the means to make a fire. Saloel was too cold to sleep, and would not have done so anyway for the thoughts that bombarded his head.
Meanwhile, below the sands, something watched him with an earth-piercing eye. As Dek�Krell observed the young man, a ripple of excitement surged through his body. It would be good to have some sport.
In the demon�s mind, Asmodeus, who had survived even though the dragon had perished, encouraged the subterranean watcher. �Let him not see another day,� his voice boomed.
Eagerly, the creature sped forward through the sands, moving ever closer to his target. This would be fun indeed�
Saloel noticed the sand shifting as something sped towards him. Quickly, he was on his feet, his own sword held at the ready. He had just enough time to dodge back as a great, shrieking being plowed up from the earth.
The creature, Dek�Krell, was an absolute monster. He rose up to about Saloel�s height and had a yellow torso with an almost flattened-out chest and belly and was somewhat shaped like an arrowhead. The creature had two long arms, the right one of which sported a long, wicked sabre made of some dark metal. The lower portion of the demon�s body was like that of a worm, except it was long and incredibly thick. Worst of all, however, was its face.
Dek�Krell had the kind of face one would expect to see in a nightmare. It had a long, shaggy black beard, and the top of his head was completely bald. The monstrosity had two large, fang-filled jaws, above which was a somewhat smallish nose. Directly above each jaw was an eye, and above the nose sat the bigger, earth-piercing eye. It was truly a frightening thing to behold.
Dek�Krell shrieked and swung with his blade, beginning the battle. Saloel countered, bringing his own weapon up in defense. Shrieking again, the worm-man lashed at Saloel with his tail, causing the man to back away. Then, seizing his advantage, Dek�Krell surged forwards, swinging his blade. Saloel, however, dodged aside and struck out wildly. It was indeed a lucky blow.
The blade cut through the demon�s right arm like a knife through jelly.
Saloel stood back, watching the demon to see what it would do next. To be honest, he had not expected the fight to have been this easy.
Looks, however, could be deceiving. Before Saloel�s astonished eyes, the demon shrieked as another arm, compete with an identical blade, shot out from the oozing stump. The demon then picked up its old blade in its left had and looked at Saloel, its lipless mouths seeming to grin evilly.
It took Saloel little time to recover from his shock. Raising his blade in both hands, he cried out �Let�s see if you can regrow your head, fiend!� He sincerely hoped that it couldn�t.
The worm-man shrieked, then lunged forward, swinging its blades about expertly. Saloel parried every strike, backing up as he did. It took all his concentration to keep his demonic adversary at bay; it was a strong one indeed.
Suddenly, the creature raised up. Twirling around, it held out both blades, becoming a cyclone of death for a few seconds. Saloel ducked down and slashed out, cutting the worm-man off where its tail met its torso. This did no good. Dek�Krell, still spinning as he fell in half, shrieked as a new tail shot out from where the old one had been. If that was not bad enough, a new torso and body sprouted out from the demon�s old tail, complete with two duplicate blades. The old worm man and the new exchanged glances, then turned to their common adversary. Shrieking in unison, both advanced upon Saloel, slashing mercilessly.
Before he knew it, the poor young man found himself doing an intricate, fast-paced dance of death with the two worm-men. The demons moved about him, attacking him viciously from every angle. Saloel could not evade every slash; soon, his clothes were completely torn up, and his entire body was covered in numerous flesh wounds, and his turban was shredded as well. Still, he fought tirelessly; he would not have it said that he died without at least taking one of the vile scum with him.
Saloel swung at one of the demons. It backed away, then retaliated, forcing him to block. Meanwhile, the other worm man maneuvered behind him and swung its right blade in a deadly arc, meaning to take off Saloel�s head. The young man, hearing the creature do so, ducked, spun around and swung all at the same time � a move Alashk had taught him � and opened the cowardly demon�s belly, letting the beast�s guts tumble out. Then, as the worm man moaned and keeled over, he jumped aside, raised his blade, and, figuring that the demon would probably regenerate its head if cut off cleanly, he decided to see how it would fare if he only took half of the skull off.
The worm man fell.
It did not rise again.
Saloel turned to his next adversary who, judging by the scar that encircled the demon�s arm, was the original Dek�Krell. Saloel grinned wickedly at the beast. �Let�s take a bit off the top, shall we?�
As he approached the worm man, however, the creature threw out its arms and cried out several words in some demonic language, both mouths moving in unison. Saloel waited for something to happen, then, snarling in frustration, swung his blade at the demon�s head. The creature moved its head back just in time so that Saloel only drew a scar across its forehead.
The wound closed instantaneously.
Saloel felt a pain in his own forehead. Blood trickled down his face. �Oh shit,� he muttered.
Dek�Krell threw out his chest and laughed, a horrible, shrieking and clacking sound that came from both evil maws. It knew that Saloel knew that every blow he struck upon its body was one that would hit himself; such were the effects of the spell. The worm man snickered at Saloel, gloating over him as he deliberated as to how to slay his adversary.
Suddenly, an idea hit Saloel. He wiped the blood off of his face, then thrust forward his left arm and, slowly, he drew a shallow cut across it. It was worth a try, anyway�
The worm man grunted, looking at its own left arm, upon which had been drawn a long cut. Then it looked up at Saloel, its once-confidant eyes now bearing the look of a man in a very unfortunate situation.
Saloel smiled, raising an eyebrow. Then, handling his sword ever so carefully, he pushed it into his own forehead�
The worm man shrieked as it held its forehead, blood gushing from its gouged-out earth-piercing eye.
Saloel advanced, his grin widening. Not even breaking stride, Saloel cut off his hand, and watched in satisfaction as the demon�s left hand dropped off while his own stayed on. Then Saloel drew a scar on his own chest, and kept walking forward even as the creature shrieked, its own flat chest bearing a giant scar. Then he hacked his left arm, and watched with some satisfaction as the demon�s entire left arm fell off and did not grow back.
Finally, Saloel was face to face with the worm man. Smiling benevolently, the young man grabbed the hideous being�s right blade with his left hand and thrust it into his own gut.
The worm man shrieked as it keeled over and rolled onto its back, shrieking and shuddering as it held its gut with the one hand it had left. Saloel bent down on one knee beside it and, taking off what remained of his bloodied turban with a single brush, he looked down at the demon that now lay at his mercy. �Oh, my hair is becoming much too long,� he said mockingly, raising his sabre�s edge to his own forehead and placing his left hand on the back of it, �Do you think I should take a bit off the top?�
Dek�Krell looked up at Saloel fearfully. The young man grinned wickedly, then pushed his blade back through his own head.
Far away, Asmodeus shuddered as he felt his servant die. It was a shame; the worm man had been a useful one.
That bastard Saloel would pay dearly for this.
* * * * *
Gessam lounged upon his great throne atop the back of a demonic elephant. A giant, gold-laced cloth with precious sapphires and rubies decorating it covered most of the beast�s body, and upon its forehead was mounted a crown of golden spines. Its head, however, sported six progressively larger tusks, a mouth full of sharp, grinding teeth, and a trunk whose end was a maw of long fangs. On its back was his throne, lavishly plush with a frame of gold, and a large half-tent, which kept the beast�s human cargo shaded yet able to see where they were going. Strangely, the elephant did not cause the contraption atop its back to shake overmuch as it walked. It emitted a stench more awful than that of the worst beasts of burden, but the fumes from Gessam�s many foully-acquired luxuries gave off a sweet scent, the likes of which no perfume produced anywhere else could ever match up to. These perfumes and scents Gessam had acquired from dealing with the demon-realm, for they made fine luxuries for those who paid them well. Gessam always rode this beast as he crossed the desert with his Caravan.
Gessam thought about some of the current events that had happened over the past couple of days. Yesterday, about an hour after sending Dolo his taunting letter, Groddar and Dek�krell had disappeared for a long time, and his worm man had not returned yet. No matter; Dek�Krell could take care of himself. Gessam knew where to go anyway.
Petsuchos slunk silently up the large elephant and to his master�s side. �Pardon me, master,� he said, �But this humble servant thought that he may bring something to your great attention.�
�Really?� Gessam muttered. He sighed, his chins wobbling as he did so. �Very well. Show me what concerns you.�
Petsuchos nodded, then hopped onto the demonic elephant�s head and pointed right. �Go that way, Leph,� he commanded, �Master�s orders.�
The elephant demon, Leph, nodded and, snickering as this action almost caused Petsuchos to lose his footing, turned slowly in the right direction and plodded forward.
�Someday I�ll make a pair of boots out of you,� Petsuchos snarled as he regained his composure.
Leph chuckled, then aimed his trunk at the crocodile-demon and blew a gob of snot at him.
Petsuchos cursed as he clawed the vile stuff out of his eyes. �You damn hippo,� he cried out, �I�m gonna��
�Silence!� Gessam ordered, and his command was followed (albeit reluctantly). By now, the entire Caravan was staring out at a figure standing at the top of the nearest dune. Gessam regarded the distant figure, then spake thusly; �And who are you, my good man?�
* * * * *
Saloel stood, his own sabre held in his left hand and Dolo�s scimitar clenched in his right. He now wore what was left of his turban as a bandanna to cover the wound on his forehead. Having shed his torn and tattered shirt, the only thing that covered his back was his dark skin and the numerous cuts and scars that streaked across it. His shoulders heaved with his heavy breath; the man was obviously tired and hungry. His face, however, with its short beard and moustache adorning his scarred yet handsome features with deep brown eyes, still held a proud expression of righteous anger.
�I am Saloel,� his voice boomed across the dunes, �Ibn Tah�Yallan and Ibn Dolo. I have come here to challenge Gessam Ibn Korrishk, leader of the Caravan, to an honourable duel in the name of my murdered family, and in that of all the countless innocents that you have slaughtered.�
Gessam relaxed, leaning back in his throne with an expression of smug, silent satisfaction on his face. �So, Saloel, was it?� he called back in response, �You say that you are Ibn Tah�Yallan and Ibn Dolo. You have two fathers, then? Hmm; from what I can tell about your mother in that case, are you quite sure that those two are the only possibilities?�
As one, the entire Caravan sniggered wickedly. Saloel kept his anger in check, then retorted, �You are one to talk; do you even know your father?�
�Not as well as you have obviously known your mother,� was the response. This caused more hilarity among the bestial demons. Petsuchos even fell off of his place on Leph�s head.
This insult stung. �If you know your father,� Saloel called back, �I am sure that he wishes he never knew you. You have disgraced the name Korrishk and all of his ilk.�
Gessam merely smiled pleasantly. �Ah, but what is family?� he responded, �They are nothing to me. Being with these mighty demons has strengthened me, you see; I am no longer burdened by useless feelings like those that you have.�
�If you are so strong,� Saloel challenged, �Then prove it by fighting me now!�
�And what if I refuse?� Gessam grinned.
Saloel looked over the horde of demons. Even from afar, he could see their many hideous forms. Mockeries of true animals they were, taking the shape of raptors, snakes, lizards, goats, dogs, camels, other livestock, and even insects. Beside Gessam�s elephant demon stood Groddar who, seeing the man�s eyes upon him, grinned as he dangled Omal�s bloodied turban mockingly. �Then I shall tear my way through your army until I find either your death or my own!� Saloel roared.
Gessam chuckled. The chuckle then turned into loud guffaws, then to laughter, and soon he was laughing so hard it boomed across the entire desert. �Very well then,� he boomed, �If finding death is one of your favored options, then I shall send every one of my demons to aid you in your search!� he turned to the Caravan, �Let not a scrap of his meat be wasted, my servants! ATTACK!�
The demons surged forward. Saloel stood his ground, raising both blades. He knew he would die, and he didn�t care. He had accepted it. All he could do now was make sure that he met his end well.
* * * * *
Gessam had not, of course, found the Asmodeus on his own. Asmodeus had found him, seen his situation, and decided he could use it to his advantage. Essentially, Gessam had been aided by a higher power.
But Asmodeus was not the only higher power in the world. There were others, and not all of them were evil, either. In fact, some of them were very good.
Such a force had now taken a shine to the poor, outnumbered yet still determined Saloel Ibn Tah�Yallan and Ibn Dolo. And it would not let him fail.
* * * * *
Suddenly, Saloel felt new strength return to his limbs. No longer did his irritable stomach bother him, and clear was his head of all fatigue that had once clouded it.
He had never felt better in his life.
Grimacing with determination, he raised his swords a bit higher � they now felt as light as feathers! � and awaited the first attacked. It was Trojon, the horse-demon. Neighing angrily, Trojon lashed out with his large whip, the weapon making a booming �clap!� as it did. Saloel held out his sabre, let the whip wrap around it, then pulled with all his might. The demon�s momentum carried the startled creature towards the young man, who moved aside and lopped off Trojon�s head as he flew past. Then he turned to the rest of the approaching horde. �For all of humanity!� he cried out as he charged.
Saloel waded into the sea of enemies, both blades flashing dangerously as he hewed down any of the misshapen beasts who came too close. Demon blood soaked the sand as the creatures fell to Saloel�s weapons.
Saloel fought with both valor and ferocity, cleaving his foes asunder as he battled his way towards the hated Gessam. Not a single fatigued bead of sweat had appeared on his forehead, and none of the demons seemed able to get close enough to him before they met their doom.
Suddenly, Petsuchos jumped from the throng, his torch held before his giant maw. Hissing, he spat a gout of flame at Saloel. The man jumped aside, letting the flame consume a pack of other demons, and swung Dolo�s scimitar at the crocodile-demon, who raised his torch in defense.
The torch shattered, sending Petsuchos reeling back. As Saloel continued to battle his way through the demonic hordes, Petsuchos fell upon his back, shaking uncontrollably. The magical force that had enchanted the weapon had been broken, unleashing all of the power sapped from both Gessam and Petsuchos and concentrating it upon the demon.
Petsuchos bit back a scream as the forces surged through him, washed over him, consumed him. He felt sensations he had never felt before overpower his mind, feelings he had never experienced bombard him, force their way into him, all-powerful, unstoppable�
�and they filled him. He felt � he felt! � a feeling of completion he had never known. He was no longer a mere body, bereft of anything more than what appears on the surface. He was no longer a demon who held no hold over himself or who he was. He was no longer just a thing that would exist and do evil until slain, then return to the nothingness from whence it came. He was someone, a true being, a creature with independent thoughts and feelings, a being who could choose what path he took in his life�
He had a soul.
One of the demons nearby, a beast with the head of a wild ass and a short spear, snorted as it kicked him with a large hoof. �Get up, lizard,� it snarled, �Why the hell�re you just lying on the ground, eh? What do you think you�re doing?�
Petsuchos turned his head and glared at the other demon. �Making my choice,� he snarled, then lunged forward.
The last thing the ass-headed monstrosity saw was Petsuchos�s fangs.
* * * * *
Saloel battled furiously, tearing apart any demon who dared step into the whirlwind of destruction that he had become. Behind him, Petsuchos burned his way through the masses of demons, using his breath and a fire he had lit on the end of the ass-head�s spear. Both were closing quickly in upon their common quarry, Gessam.
Saloel suddenly noticed that no more demons attacked him; instead, they had formed a circle about ten meters wide, in which he was the middle. Then Groddar stepped into it, grinning wickedly. The demon still wore his bloodstained shirt and pants, held his giant bardiche in one claw and Omal�s turban in the other. Groddar�s grin widened as he raised his weapon. �Let�s go!� he growled.
Meanwhile, Petsuchos found himself similarly encircled by enemy demons. He looked about, wondering just what was happening. He would soon find out.
The masses of demons parted, creating a long path. Down this newly formed road strode a grim, imposing robed figure. It held a large staff with a giant, paper-thin axe blade on top clenched in both hands and an expression of livid rage.
Petsuchos twirled his spear-torch. �Come on, you bastard,� he challenged, �Do your worst.�
�Oh, believe me,� Rash�nakasha snarled, �I shall.�
* * * * *
Groddar attacked first. Swinging his bardiche in a deadly arc, he aimed to cleave Saloel in two. The young man jumped back, causing Groddar to miss. The camel-demon, however, merely used the momentum of the swing to carry him around 360 degrees so that he could swing again. Saloel ducked under this one and charged forward, bringing both of his blades down upon the demon�s left thigh. They drove deep, but did not hack off the limb entirely. In response, Groddar roared out in pain and kicked with his camel-like hoof. Saloel dodged aside from the thrashing limb, ducked between the beast�s legs and stabbed his left blade into the beast�s left hamstring, then moved back cautiously.
Roaring again, Groddar fell to his bad knee. Sensing victory, Saloel moved forward, but had to dodge back immediately afterwards as the camel-demon, bellowing in fury, swung around on the one knee, holding out his axe in both hands as he did. Again the swing went off, and Saloel moved forward and, once again, dodged back as Groddar returned the swing in the opposite direction of the first.
Meanwhile, Rash�nakasha chanted several words of magic power as he slowly twirled his staff. As the axe-head on the end of it glowed with unholy green light, he incanted the last syllable and thrust the weapon forward. A burst of green fire shot from it and streaked across the distance between the two dueling demons. The blast hit Petsuchos head-on, and broke against his scales like the tide on the ocean�s rocks. The crocodile-being* grunted, then glared at Rash�nakasha.
Did that stupid jackal really think he could defeat a fire-breather with flame?
In response, Petsuchos blew a gout of his own flame at Rash�nakasha. Quickly, the jackal-demon threw up a magical shield, against which the fire merely dissipated. Then, roaring another magical command, Rash�nakasha threw the shield forward, causing it to move rapidly towards his adversary. Petsuchos dodged aside, letting the magical shield crash into the demons behind him, and blew another gout of flame at Rash�nakasha.
This time, Rash�nakasha raised a wall of sand to defend himself. The flame hit the wall of sand and shattered it, the force of the explosion knocking Rash�nakasha back. The shock wasn�t enough to kill him, however. Growling as he regained his composure, Rash�nakasha raised his staff dramatically as he conjured up his next magic spell.
*No longer could he truly be called a demon.
* * * * *
Groddar�s wild swipes had managed to hold Saloel back for the perfect amount of time. Slowly, his wounds had started to heal, and soon he was standing once again, grinning evilly at the surprised young man.
�Wanna see what your guts look like?� the camel-demon chortled.
Crying out in fury, Saloel charged forward, swinging his blades with wild abandon. Groddar roared and twirled his bardiche. The two met in a flurry of blood and blades, each seeking the other�s death. During the epic battle, Saloel managed to stab the beast in the gut and then, as Groddar keeled over, one lop from Dolo�s scimitar beheaded the wicked demon.
Triumphant, Saloel turned away and strode forward to continue his journey towards Gessam. Then he stopped as he noticed something; none of the demons had even moved. They just stood there, waiting, watching expectantly.
Saloel heard a noise come from behind him. Turning slowly, he looked to the giant brute�s corpse � except it was not a corpse at all. Before Saloel�s disbelieving eyes, Groddar rose to his feet, a new skull growing out from where the original head had been. Sinew, muscle, and skin all seemed to leap from no-where onto the beast�s face, and from it sprouted the creature�s tawny hair. Then, his new head fully formed, Groddar snarled at Saloel, plucking the sabre from his gut and crumpling it with one hand.
He made no attempt at a taunt this time. He merely hefted his bardiche in both hands and charged, roaring.
* * * * *
Suddenly, Rash�nakasha stopped chanting. His spear clenched grimly in his scaly green claws, Petsuchos waited as Rash�nakasha lowered his staff, smirking triumphantly. The two stood there for a while yet, Petsuchos glaring angrily at Rash�nakasha, who stared back with a smug grin. Then, without warning, the jackal-demon thrust his staff forward and bellowed out a last word of power.
There was a great whirring sound as the staff�s head began to twist, changing shape until it turned into a giant funnel. Then from the staff�s end was unleashed a blizzard of the elements; fire, water, wind, and earth blasted out, swirling and churning amongst one another.
Quickly, Petsuchos held out his spear-torch and blew the biggest gout of flame that he could. The two combatants� attacks met in a whirling clash of the elements. For a long while, Petsuchos and Rash�nakasha both fought to overpower one another with their own magic or fire.
Finally, there was a giant explosion midway between the two, knocking both backwards. Petsuchos was the first to rise. Seeing his chance, he held his flaming spear before his mouth and tried to blow his flammable spit through it, except he could not; his mouth was completely dry.
Rash�nakasha, who was just righting himself, saw Petsuchos�s weakness and gave a wan smile. Then he pointed his left finger at his adversary and spoke a single magic word.
A few sparks flew from the end of his claw.
And nothing else happened.
Frowning bitterly, Rash�nakasha now realized that he was in a similar situation as his contestant. �It seems that this shall be a battle of strength now,� he said.
Petsuchos pointed his spear in the jackal-demon�s direction. �Very well,� he snarled, �So what are you waiting for?�
Rash�nakasha grinned confidently, placing each hand in the other hand�s long, flowing sleeve. Then he slowly withdrew two long, wickedly curved and extremely sharp sabres. �I�m waiting,� he answered smugly, �For you to start begging for mercy.�
* * * * *
Saloel fought back desperately against the raging camel-demon. Now that he had only one weapon, however, and this made him all the more vulnerable to Groddar�s attacks. Hence, he held his scimitar in both hands, moving, dodging, ducking and weaving about as much as possible. He had always been taught to use a brute�s lack of dexterity against it.
Groddar, however, was nowhere near as dull and clumsy as most demons of his size. Plus, he did not merely hack and club with his weapon, as most brutes did. Groddar used his bardiche with skill; even as his eyes hazed over with battle-madness, he still fought with flawless technique, giving Saloel several minor flesh wounds. And these would have been much more serious if not for Saloel�s skilful evasion.
All the while as they fought, Saloel desperately searched through his memory for a way to defeat a creature such as this. All wounds he had struck to it had been almost instantly healed, but no being � even a demonic one � was invincible. It had to have a weakness, somewhere�
Groddar roared as he brought his bardiche in an overhead arc, smiting the ground where Saloel had stood but a second before and sending up a spray of sand. Saloel had dodged out of the way just in time, then darted forward as Groddar swung his weapon to the side. Evading a mighty kick on the camel-demon�s part, Saloel carved a chunk out of the demon�s thigh. The camel-demon roared, punching at the young man, who darted behind the beast as it bent over. The wound was already healing.
And, for some reason, Groddar�s hump had shrunk slightly.
An idea hit Saloel.
* * * * *
Petsuchos let out an animalistic roar as he charged. In response, Rash�nakasha let out a blood-curdling howl and twirled his blades. The two met, and the duel began in earnest.
Petsuchos jabbed forth with his spear. In response, Rash�nakasha jumped up, landed perfectly on the weapon�s shaft, then kicked Petsuchos in the jaw. It was a surprisingly hard blow, one that made the crocodile-being drop his weapon and lurch backwards. Back-flipping skillfully off of the spear before it even hit the ground, Rash�nakasha pressed forward, blades flashing. Petsuchos�s scales, however, were thick to begin with and fire-hardened as well; they were a veritable suit of armour for the creature. As the Jackal-demon approached, Petsuchos lowered his head to protect his belly, and most of the jackal-demon�s blows were deflected off of his hard hide. Then Petsuchos lunged forward, pushing up his head as he did so and landing a hard blow to Rash�nakasha�s gut with his nose. Then Petsuchos opened his giant maw and tried to bite his adversary, but the demon dodged to the side and, with a twirling kick, hit Petsuchos hard in the back and sent the fire-breather sprawling into the sand.
Before Petsuchos could right himself, Rash�nkasha was upon him, clamping a foot-paw on his back. Then, grinning sadistically, the demon reversed his grip on his blades. �Like your feelings so much, do you?� he gloated, raising his sabres, �If that�s so, then I shall make you feel pain!�
Suddenly, Petsuchos�s tail swung up, hitting Rash�nakasha in the back. Grunting in shock as he fell forward, the jackal-demon was immediately catapulted back up as the crocodile-being quickly rose. As this happened, he lost grip on one of his blades.
Seeing an opportunity, Petsuchos grabbed the fallen sabre and circled his foe. By now, Rash�nakasha�s eyes had lit up with unholy fury. Still, he managed to keep his voice steady. �There�s still a chance for you to live, you know,� he snarled, �I�ll just make another, stronger enchantment like the one I made fifteen years ago.�
�Go to hell, you bastard,� Petsuchos snarled, �I�ve made my choice!�
�Then you have chosen death, you traitor!� Rash�nakasha boomed. Then he roared and charged forward, swinging his sabre skillfully. Petsuchos lost ground quickly as the other demon�s vehement attacks forced him ever backwards. Petsuchos did his best to block every strike that Rash�nakasha made, but he was no swordsman. Soon he found himself but a few feet from the horde of demonic spectators, who raised their weapons in anticipation. It was clear who they were rooting for.
On a split-second decision, Petsuchos swung around, holding his tail out. He smashed at several of the nearby demons with the swing and, as he turned around 360 degrees, he blocked Rash�naksha�s next slash. Even as he was forced to back further into the crowd of demons, he kept swinging around, his tail bashing a swath through the horde and deflecting Rash�nakasha�s blade as it passed by the demon, while at the same time fighting whatever opponent that his front half was facing at the time with the sword. Demons in the crowd fought the ones behind them to get away from the furious battle. Those who could not get away were expediently killed.
Still, Rash�nakasha did not cease his assault. �You will pay for this, Petsuchos,� he cried out, �For your choice of feelings over power, you shall join your precious Felina in the Oblivion!�
* * * * *
Saloel circled Groddar, who held himself in check. Obviously some part of the brute, hidden behind his mask of bloodlust, was telling him to wait for Saloel to make the first move and react accordingly. This was quite acceptable from Saloel�s point of view; it just gave him time to plan his attack.
The thirty seconds it took for Saloel to do this exceeded Groddar�s capacity for patience by a good half-minute. �Come, you puny whelp,� the camel-demon snarled, then, sensing that perhaps a taunt would be called for, he held up Omal�s ragged shawl, �And I will use this to wipe your remains off of my blade!�
Saloel�s eyes lit up with fury, and Groddar knew he had struck a nerve. Grinning wickedly and holding his bardiche in both claws, Groddar crouched somewhat and waited for Saloel to attack. The young man paused, glaring at the camel-demon. Suddenly, he dropped to one knee, shoved his hand into his boot, rose again and threw something at Groddar. It was a small boot knife; inconsequential, had Saloel not thrown it in exactly the right place�
Well, Groddar was asking for it, crouching with his knees so far apart.
Now Saloel charged, slashing mercilessly at the brute. Because the injury had brought Groddar so near to the ground, Saloel found the chest an easy target, which he tore at vehemently. Groaning like the beast he resembled, Groddar stumbled backwards, losing his bardiche in the confused flurry of activity. It did not, however, take long for basic survival instincts to over-ride Groddar�s mind.
Roaring, the brute punched out at Saloel with his left claw. The young man dodged aside and swung, taking the limb off. In response, Groddar punched with his right hand, hitting Saloel in the chest and knocking him back, the blade flying from his hands. It was a wonder that the young man was not killed; it was even more of a wonder that Saloel was able to retaliate with another punch.
It was a miracle that the punch sent Groddar reeling back.
Saloel took this opportunity. Grabbing Omal�s turban from the sand where it had fallen, he looped it around the fallen Groddar�s neck and held on for dear life as the camel-demon rose, roaring in supreme anger. Now this was just plain annoying!
Groddar continued roaring as he swung about, trying to throw Saloel off of his back, where he had securely clamped his legs onto the camel-demon�s hump. Groddar swung at him with his claws, tried (and failed) to swivel his head around and bite the man. Still, Saloel hung on, which only enraged the demon further. Spitting and roaring, Groddar stumbled about in his attempts to be free of the irritant.
And still Saloel hung on.
Finally, Groddar�s sense of rationalization seemed to surface from his sea of bloodlust just enough to tell him to use something to reach where his arms could not. Grunting animalistically, the camel-demon stumbled over to his fallen bardiche and fumbled it into a two-handed grip, the blade facing himself.
Had Groddar not been so blinded by rage, perhaps he would have approached the situation in a more sensible way. Who knows? � perhaps he would have merely torn the shawl off from around his neck and finished Saloel after he fell to the ground. He could have even rolled over onto his back, crushing Saloel under his weight. He could have even have used his bardiche to brush the young man off as easily as one would brush off a fly. He almost certainly would not have swung his bardiche over behind his back, a move that not only allowed Saloel to jump off and avoid the weapon, but would also send several hundred pounds of blade into the brute�s own hump, the only vulnerable part of his body�
Of course, as it was, rage had completely consumed rationalization. Groddar never even knew what hit him.
* * * * *
Rash�nakasha had grown tired of futilely slashing at his opponent. Barking violently, he reversed his grip on his blade and jumped onto Petsuchos�s back. The crocodile-being stopped spinning and cried out as the jackal-demon plunged his blade into his shoulder. Petsuchos tried to swing awkwardly with his blade and lash about with his tail, but Rash�nakasha merely swatted away the blade, and the tail missed entirely. Petsuchos, however, threw himself back hard, sandwiching the jackal-demon between his own body and the ground. Rash�nakasha growled as he pushed Petsuchos from his own body, then regained his composure and backed away. As Petsuchos painfully wrenched the blade from his shoulder, Rash�nakasha snarled as the claws on his right hand extended by seven inches each. Then both charged at one another, weapons swinging.
Blade clashed with claw. Both shattered.
Rash�nakasha cried out in pain as he stumbled past his adversary, falling to his knees as he held his claw. Petsuchos merely looked at the useless handle. It still had some meager remnants of the blade left on it. Then he looked to one of the shards of metal on the ground and picked it up. It might work; he certainly felt rejuvenated enough�
�Hey, jackal,� Petsuchos�s voice came from behind Rash�nakasha. The kneeling robed demon turned around to see Petsuchos holding the blade�s handle before the end of his long snout with one hand and a chip of metal with the other. The reptilian creature�s face was a grim mask.
�Need a light?� the crocodile being snarled as he struck the pieces of metal together, creating a single spark. This was all that was needed.
Then next thing Rash�nakasha knew, he was in the middle of a searing inferno.
* * * * *
Groddar�s lifeless form crashed to the ground, groaning pitifully. All the demons merely stared on in shock; they didn�t know what to make of this. Even Gessam�s jaw dropped in astonishment.
As Saloel retrieved his blade, he looked at Groddar�s carcass, which leaked a mixture of blood and clear blue water from its hump. It made sense; normal camels store water in their humps, which makes them so useful for desert travel. It was only logical for Groddar, being a monster much like a camel, to do so as well. Except, from the smell it made*, it was obviously healing water, perhaps found in some enchanted desert spring, or a gift from the dark demon lord.
No wonder the demon regenerated so fast.
Now Saloel turned to Gessam, who still sat in open-mouthed disbelief. �Your last moments have arrived, swine,� he called out, �I am coming for you next!�
*A scent that is remarkable in that it does not smell of anything in particular; it�s just there. Part of Saloel�s training had been to recognize this.
* * * * *
Rash�nakasha knew that death was upon him. Even as he beat at himself, tried to tear at his robes, the fires that ate at him only blazed ever brighter. He had to face it; this was the end.
But how could it be?
Suddenly, a new sensation blossomed within the demon�s hollow heart. It was fear; fear, which felt so strong, so powerful, so unimaginably horrible, especially after a life in which such a feeling never rose its head, consumed him like the searing flames. Rash�nakasha now knew what he had instilled in the hearts of so many innocent humans�
The fear that rose in his heart soon gave way to terrible anger. No, how could this be? This couldn�t be! Death wasn�t something that happened to him; it was something that struck humans and lesser demons! Surely it could never reach him! He didn�t want it to!
He wanted to live!
Well, if he could not have life, then he could at least have vengeance. This was all Petsuchos�s fault; if that damn lizard hadn�t been such a feeling-loving weakling, this mess would have never happened! It was his fault, that bastard reptile!
Oh, he would pay dearly for this�
Shrieking, the flaming form of Rash�nakasha leapt to his feet and charged at Petsuchos. The insane jackal-demon barreled the crocodile-being over and tore at his soft underbelly with his flaming claws, pummeling him with punches as well. �WHERE ARE YOUR FEELINGS TO SAVE YOU NOW?� Rash�nakasha shrieked, �HOW�S YOUR PRECIOUS SOUL GOING TO HELP YOU, HUH? HOW?�
Roaring out, Petsuchos grabbed Rash�nakasha and wrestled him to the side so that he was on top. �However it�s going to help me,� he snarled, �It�s going to help a lot more than if I didn�t have one, like you!�
* * * * *
Again, Saloel found himself wading through a sea of demons, Dolo�s blade flashing as he swung it at every one that approached him. Finally, he saw the elephant-demon looming over him, and knew he would have to scale it to reach his quarry.
Leph, however, had other plans. Rearing up, the demon trumpeted angrily as it came crashing down, trying to crush the young man beneath its feet. Saloel backed up, letting the creature�s giant feet smite the ground, and grabbed its trunk. Enraged, the creature swung its trunk from side to side, trying to shake Saloel off. All the while, its fanged jaws snapped viciously at the young man.
Suddenly, Saloel let go of the trunk and grabbed one of the tusks, then held on for dear life. Leph, seeing its chance, brought its hissing trunk-jaw around at Saloel, trying to bite him. Saloel, using his free sword hand, struck out and cleft the demonic jaw off the end of the trunk.
Roaring in pain, Leph reared up and landed again, then stampeded through the crowd of demons, trying to throw off its irritant. Saloel, shaken but undaunted, climbed up the tusk and onto the elephant�s body, where he stood before the fearful Gessam.
�Your time has come, Gessam Ibn Korrishk,� Saloel snarled.
Gessam�s eyes darted about wildly, searching for an escape. �P-please,� he stuttered, �Please, oh-oh great warrior, I beg of you�please show me mercy!�
Saloel approached his cowering victim. �I�ll show you mercy,� he growled, raising his blade, �As much mercy as you showed your victims!�
Gessam screamed.
The blade fell.
And that was the end of it.
* * * * *
Demira sat on the bed in her room. It was much more well-furnished than Saloel�s, but all of that had just faded into the background. It was insubstantial, unimportant.
She merely sat and stared at the spot on the bed that used to be occupied by her husband, Dolo.
She felt cold, sad, knowing that he was no longer alive. She had cried for her old love, for Saloel�s choice to march to his doom, for what Emina had lost for his doing so. Now she just felt cold, alone, sad, empty.
How could these things have come to pass?
Suddenly, however, a sound came to her old ears. Slowly, she looked up to where it had been coming from; it was coming from the spot on the wall where Dolo had mounted Felina�s skull. As she watched with disbelieving eyes, the skull rapidly crumbled, turning to a pile of sand on the floor.
She kept staring, even after there was nothing left of it but sand. Years of living with Dolo had taught her many things about demons. She knew exactly what was happening.
She blinked, then stared harder. So it was true.
Saloel had won after all!
* * * * *
As Gessam�s head rolled to the floor of the moving tent, a great shriek came up from all the demons in the Caravan. Their bodies turned to sand and crumbled into little mounds all over the desert floor. Petsuchos and Rash�nakasha, still locked in deadly combat, turned into sand and crumbled as well. Trumpeting loudly, Leph turned to sand and broke apart, letting the giant tent on his back fall to the ground, Saloel and all.
For a while, Saloel lay beneath the ruined remains of the tent. The strength he had once possessed had deserted him completely, yet still he managed to get up and carve his way out of the wreckage. Beside him, Gessam�s bloated, headless corpse lay there, quivering while its massive bulk jiggled.
Saloel looked around, once again noticing how the sun mercilessly beat down upon his sweat-beaded brow. Around him was a giant plain dotted with innumerable lumps of sand.
Slowly, the truth sank in; the Caravan was gone. He had won. Yet still, the story did not end here. He would have to return to Gessal�lashk somehow, and he had not the strength or supplies to survive the long journey back. It was over for him as well; he would never make it back to the city he had known all his life�
Turning about, he roared as he brought his blade down upon Gessam�s corpse. Its belly split like an overripe melon, spraying the young man with blood. He swung again and again, venting his rage upon the Caravan master�s bloated carcass. Who cared if this was desecration; the bastard deserved much, much worse.
Saloel had not been deserted entirely, however. That same unseen benevolent force still watched him, and guided his blade to the pouch that was fastened to Gessam�s belt�
A table, laden with food, burst forward before Saloel�s astounded eyes. It was not the sort of extravagant feast upon which Gessam had gluttonized every day since when he had first made his pact with the demon lord. Rather, it was a hearty, healthy meal, upon which Saloel fell without question. There was even enough left for his return trip to Gessal�lashk. And, for a reason which Saloel would find out later, a small, humble sack.
Somewhere in the cosmos, Saloel�s good benefactor smiled in satisfaction.
It had been nice to do business with the young man.
* * * * *
The very next day, late in the afternoon, Saloel Ibn Tah�Yallan and Ibn Dolo returned to Gessal�lashk, head held high with pride. In his right hand was held Dolo�s blade, in his left hand was held Gessam�s head, and on his belt was the small sack. It seemed as though everybody in the great city turned out at the gates to see him.
As Saloel stood before the masses of people, he held Gessam�s head aloft. �Citizens of Gessal�lashk, fear not,� he boomed, �For Gessam Ibn Korrishk is dead, and the Caravan has been destroyed!�
Wild cheering erupted from the populace. It was, however, cut short as a legion of warriors pushed their way through the crowd, led by the red faced king and his entourage of royal advisors.
The king stood before Saloel, his face burning up with fury. �Did I not say that nothing was to be done about the Caravan while it remains beyond our borders?� he bellowed, �Why, this could constitute as an act of war with the other tribes!�
�A worthy point, your majesty,� one of the sycophant advisors hissed, �This man should not go unpunished for his crime.�
�Yes, he is right your excellency,� another agreed, �For this man�s rash actions, he must be punished!�
�You shall not punish him,� Emina said, stepping forward from the crowd, blade in hand, �Without killing me first.�
�Nor will you while I still draw breath,� Mohum, leader of the refugees, growled as he stepped forth, as did many other people.
�And besides,� came a voice from the back of the crowd. Hastily, the people of Gessal�lashk parted to make way for Mazzor, who continued, �This man has done nothing wrong.�
The people continued to stare as Mazzor walked down the path they had cleared for him, elaborating as he did. �For one thing, sending an army into another tribe�s lands to aid them, then withdrawing is hardly a hostile activity, and only a malicious, sycophant worm-� the malicious, sycophant worms (a.k.a: royal advisors) flinched at this, �-would see it as anything else. And besides; it was not an army that passed over the border into their lands, but rather one solitary man. And here he is, back again from his travels, and, so far as I can tell, without the vengeful army of an enemy tribe at his heels.
�So, in conclusion,� Mazzor finished, �Arresting this young man would be most unwise, and that is a fact that I am willing to defend with my life and all of my power.� He made sure to emphasize the last five words, sending a ripple of shocked gasps throughout the crowd.
The king gaped for a moment. Then, wordlessly, he pushed his way back through his soldiers and stormed back to his castle. Gradually, the crowds started to disperse as everybody returned to their normal daily activities, free of the threat of a giant demonic menace looming over their heads. Mazzor had disappeared, leaving only Saloel, Emina and Mohum standing there.
Mohum smiled and patted Saloel on the shoulder. �You did well, lad,� he said, �I am glad to see that no more lives shall be taken by the Caravan.�
�Thank you,� Saloel responded. Then he took the sack from his belt and gave it to Mohum. �Don�t be fooled by its size; it�s a magical bag. It contains a vast amount of Gessam�s ill-gotten wealth. Please distribute it to the impoverished refugees who came with you to our city, and give the rest to any other unfortunates you may find. Can I have your word that you will do so?�
�I swear that I shall,� Mohum said seriously. Then he walked off, leaving Emina and Saloel alone.
Emina gazed into her lover�s eyes. �That was a very generous thing you did just there,� she said.
Saloel shrugged. �My family needs no more wealth. We are not poor, and there are many who need it much more.� He smiled, �Besides, I need to set a good example for our child, do I not?�
Emina laughed, as did Saloel. The two embraced, kissing as they did so.
It was the beginning of an everlasting love.
* * * * *
Petsuchos looked around, confused. One minute he had been rolling around, wrestling with the maddened, flaming Rash�nakasha, the next he was in this place, a land filled with golden light.
�Where-where am I?� he wondered out loud.
�You are at the midway point,� a familiar voice from a long time ago said. Petsuchos whirled around to see who had spoken and saw, to his shocked eyes, the figure of Gessam.
This was not, however, the Gessam he had known for the last 15 years. This was not the Gessam who had gorged himself as innocents were led to their deaths, who had become fat and rich from the blood of his fellow humans. This was not the same Gessam who had written a letter with a child�s blood, who had ordered more than a thousand demons to overwhelm a single man. This was a different Gessam; the scrawny, more or less good-natured man who had died on the night when Asmodeus had seduced him.
The Gessam who had flowed into Petsuchos�s body as the torch had shattered.
�But then,� Petsuchos gasped, �You-you�re Gessam�s soul, and not mine at all! I-I never had a soul; I was just filled with yours!�
Gessam�s soul smiled. �You always had a soul,� he said, �Even Rash�nakasha knew it, and he hated you for it. He tried to hide it from you, to tell you that you were just having feelings. He was jealous of you, deep down; jealous that you would live on after your body collapsed, while he would merely return to oblivion after his death came, which he has.� Gessam sighed, �You really have to pity the poor devil. He and his kind are the most loathsome � yet unfortunate � creatures alive.�
�I�ll spare my pity for someone who deserves it, thank you,� Petsuchos snarled. Then a thought struck him. �But if I had a soul, even from my birth, then why was I so evil?�
�It was because of your predetermined nature,� Gessam explained patiently, �Your soul, fragile as it was, could not always win over your innate evil. You couldn�t help it, and I cannot judge you for it. Besides, in the end, with my aid, you managed to overcome your evil and make your choice.� He smiled, �And the fact that you made the choice you did was equally admirable. As you yourself have said, good and evil in a soul depends upon past experience. Now tell me, how much good have you done in the past?�
Petsuchos�s head drooped. He remembered all the evil he had committed. Eating that one poor child especially stuck out. �Not much, I suppose,� he muttered, and even that was exaggeration.
�But you had no choice then,� Gessam said, �You did what you did because you had never been given a choice between good and evil. And when you received the choice, despite a lifetime of evil, you chose to go to the side of good.�
Petsuchos nodded in understanding. Then he looked up. �You said we�re at �The midway point,�� he observed, �What do you mean by that? Where are we midway to?�
�We are midway,� Gessam explained, �Between the world of life � the place from which we both came � and that of the afterlife, the place where people go after they have died. I have spoken with the one who aided the young warrior, Saloel, who freed you from the shackles on your old evil. It � I know not whether it is male or female, or if it is either � told me that it is pleased with the choice you made; that you rejected evil and became good, despite your nature. This is a most worthy accomplishment, one that deserves the highest of praise. However, there is still much evil in the world, and though such may never change, you and I can still do something about it � if we so choose. The decision is up to us, however, and I shall follow you in whatever path you set across. Such is the bond forged between our two souls. I trust your judgement, though; so, which path shall we take?�
Petsuchos deliberated hard upon this. If he went to the afterlife, he could probably lie peacefully, but he would never feel as if he had done something to pay for his sins of old. Praise from another soul was all well and good, but in his heart, Petsuchos knew that he had not yet forgiven himself for all that he had done in his life.
He might never forgive himself.
Well, whether or not he could find solace in making up for his evil past by helping forge a better future, he would only find out if he put in the effort to do so.
�You know,� Petsuchos said, �I think that there�s plenty of evil arse to kick back in our old world, and I wouldn�t mind being the one with the boot.�
Gessam beamed with satisfaction. �I knew you would make the right choice, friend,� he smiled.
�But first,� Petsuchos interrupted hastily, �I must know; if I had a soul, then does that mean that Felina did as well?�
�But of course,� Gessam responded, �How else would one explain the obvious attraction between the two of you?�
Immediately, Petsuchos�s eyes lit up hopefully. �Does that mean that she�s still alive � er, not gone to the Oblivion?�
�Why, yes,� Gessam responded, �Would you like to go and meet her?�
�Of course!� Petsuchos cried exuberantly, �I�d love to!�
Gessam�s smile widened. �Love,� he mused, �A good choice of words.�
As the two set off through the land of golden light, Petsuchos barely able to keep his enthusiasm in check, the crocodile-being asked, �So, where are we going, anyway?�
�You�ll see,� Gessam answered, �You�ll see.�
�Where shall we find a place on our world to destroy evil, though?�
�Oh, there are many places. Evil abounds everywhere, as does good, albeit in smaller numbers. The difference, though, is that evil creates more evil quickly, but it can be annihilated completely. Good never dies, the way who I was never truly dead, even as what I became � well, became what it became.�
�You�ve lost me there.�
�Oh, you�ll understand. Some day.�
And so the two continued their journey. As they did, Petsuchos thought happily that he had finally found the right business.
The End