Date: Wed, 5 Mar 2014 18:47:16 +0000
From: Michael Offutt <kavrik@hotmail.com>
Subject: Black Dragon Rising Chapter 36 - Gay Science Fiction

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                                    *****

                             Chapter Thirty-Five

      For a while, I sit in shock watching the fire burn down. I slip on my
clothes; put on my boots. Then I do the only thing that really comes to
mind. I get down on my knees and pray. I guess one can say that faith
always finds the desperate. That's when I hear the approach of footsteps.
Alarmed at first, I'm assuaged when Cory's voice rises above the others.

      "They took him in there," the elf says.

      Angelaria is first to enter; followed by Talen with a prisoner in
front of him. I almost speak up when she places a hand over my
mouth. "Shhh," she says, "we're still in the palace. It's pandemonium just
one flight up right now. A demon lord has been unleashed. It's killed
twenty men on its way out of this place. You're lucky to be alive!"

      My eyes go next to Talen and then finally his prisoner. It's the
vizier and my boyfriend's holding a knife to his throat.

      "You won't get away with this," the vizier states, his black skin
shiny with stress sweat. "Our guards will pursue you across the desert and
across the sea and to every corner of this earth if you so much as scratch
my throat."

      That's when Cory sidles in, bow at the ready.

      I'm so glad he chose not to leave.

      "Guards?" The elf asks. "IF there's anything left of them--and that's
a big 'if'--I imagine that thing out there could've easily slain YOU
too. You owe us your life."

      Talen presses the blade harder against the vizier's skin. The knife
draws blood. "I guess we're going to have company then," he states. "A
party's always better when there's more guests.  Will they bring ale and
women, or are those that serve you as selfish and low as yourself?"

      "I didn't rape him," the vizier replies. "I barely touched the boy."

      That seems to calm Talen a bit but only slightly. "I believe you. But
that doesn't excuse the hundreds who've suffered at your hand over the
years."

      "People who live in glass houses should not throw stones," the vizier
says. From the doorway explodes a loud roar. It sounds far away; whatever
made it is triumphant and cruel in the worst kind of way. "I should've
killed Talisac," the vizier says, looking at the bloody chunks of meat
around the room. "I'd no idea he planned to unleash Hell on earth! He
promised to grant me my desire, to help me become caliph!"

      Desire always comes at a price. "I guess that makes him a liar,
then," I say bitterly.

      She puts her arms around me. "Milbar's beard...Kian, have they done
anything to you? Are you okay?" she asks.

      I open my mouth somewhat weakly. "I-I've not been raped if that's
what you're asking. T- the demon kind of saved me from that fate, odd as
that may seem. But I've taken something called saroual."

      "You saw the monster?" Correldon asks. "It's a Tickler of
Chagidiel. The last time one walked the plains of Wynwrayth the seas were
four thousand years younger...a different age by any account."

      "I think I helped bring it into this world," I say with regret.

      "Unfortunate," Cory replies, "for everyone who lives and
breathes. Demon lords are the most powerful of their kind. This particular
one was worshiped as a god. But as powerful as the Tickler is, it
ultimately serves Chagidiel so its destruction will be limited by that evil
god's plan."

      "How was it summoned?" Angelaria asks. "A ritual of blood and sex is
required. There's evidence of plenty of blood here, but there had to be
more. For one, a hell spawn larva that's harvested twenty years of youth
from a host must be consumed by those marked as a Tickler's meal.  In
addition, one soul must be willingly given, and it needs to be combined
with the blood of a general of the Queen of Demons herself." She stares at
me. "Kian...did you have a worm inside you?"

      I look down at my toes and then nod. "I didn't want to worry anyone."

      "He doesn't look any older," Cory says.

      "That's because he has eternal youth," Angelaria replies.

      "I'm sorry," I say. "Talisac told me about it...told me that it left
my mind open to further attacks from the grimlocks. I-I felt like I needed
to keep it secret."

      Talen's clearly disappointed in me, but he continues his vigil on the
prisoner.

      "Look," Cory says, "we can go over all these trust issues when we're
away from this place.  Let's get going."

      My groin area burns when I try to move. "Give me a minute," I say.

      "Your pants are splashed in blood," she states.

      "Only a little is mine," I say to her. "And what wounds I did have
are now stopped."

      Angelaria turns to the vizier, and her blue eyes blaze with
fire. "Why's he still drugged. It's been hours hasn't it?"

      "We used a second dosage on him before we extracted the worm from his
penis. He's probably lucky to be alive. The general," the vizier remarks,
"did like his boys complacent. I suppose he likes to fuck in
peace. Honestly, I can't blame him."

      "You've some explaining to do," Talen tells the vizier. "Let's start
at the beginning."

      "Mahmud, the man that you saw in the tavern upon first arriving in
Kaibar...he's an assassin that we call the Voice of the Desert. We'd heard
rumors that an Atlantean boy was heading this way accompanied by a
dark-haired fellow and a witch. It's said that this golden boy carried the
Jewel of Destinies from out of the East. We've long known the secret of the
pyramid of Djoser. It was only a matter of time before the one who was
called 'the Jewel Bearer' made an appearance on our shores."

      "That explains the holy symbol we found," Angelaria states.

      The Vizier's eyes open wide in surprise. "A holy symbol?"

      "Off of Mahmud's corpse," she says with contempt. "Talen, show him."

      Talen displays a fist-sized medallion bearing on it the Star of
Modru. There's still blood on it.

      "That's impossible," the Vizier says. "Mahmud...the Voice of the
Desert...he was the most well-trained assassin of the Crimson Death
Watch. He was more than a match for you."

      "He didn't seem to think so," Talen says, "especially true while
begging for his life.  Interesting that he furnished us with the secret way
into the palace, don't you think? It's really surprising what pain can
bring out in a person, even one with his kind of training."

      The Vizier's calm fades like footprints before the tide. In its
place, panic sets in.

      Ah, I get it now. He expected Mahmud to save him. This raises a warm
smile to my face, despite the ordeals I've been put through in the last day
or so.

      Angelaria slips her body underneath my arm, and helps hoist me to my
feet. Then she says, "Talen, kill him. And make it hurt."

      Talen starts to draw the blade across the Vizier's throat when he
says, "Wait! Wait! Please.  There's more I can assist you with. Just spare
my life."

      "Like what?"

      The vizier thinks for a moment. "The writ that you need? It's in my
pocket. You can use it to gain admittance to the Pyramid of Djoser. It's
signed and sealed with the caliph's house emblem.  Without it you'll have
to fight the xirasian guards at the temple entrance."

      Talen fishes inside the vizier's robe and pulls it free. He pockets
the writ by rolling it up and sticking it in a pouch hanging from his belt.

      "Anything else?"

      "I-I know of a quick way out of the palace."

      "Really?" Angelaria says. "I know of one too." She grips me about the
waist and completes an incantation that I recognize. The room blurs around
us and suddenly we're outside the walls of Kaibar and near the barred
drainage tunnel I spied when we first approached the town. The air's hot
and the sky's bright with sunlight. At our feet the salty, smelly oued that
flows from inside Kaibar passes lazily between the grate barring the
entrance to the tunnel; it winds its way across a salt flat to the banks of
the River Cleet. The vizier doesn't even have time to react as Talen cuts
him open like a pig. Then he drops the dying man head-first into the open
sewer. As the body falls, Talen retrieves the vizier's money pouch and
tosses it to Angelaria. She catches it and puts it away. So endeth the
reign of the great Vizier of Kaibar. I never even learned his name.

      "Do you have anything to drink?" I ask her.

      She smiles and hands me a jug of cool water which I dash over my
hands and face. Then I drink some and feel it open my throat and wash away
the last numbing vestiges that the drug left in my mouth.

      "Kian, if you want to talk about it..." she starts to say, but I
interrupt her.

      "I-I don't want to talk about it, Angelaria, okay?" I feel tears
forming at the edges of my eyes and my heart aches. Could what the Tickler
told me possibly be true? I feel violated on a multitude of levels. There's
no way I could even possibly convey any of these feelings right now. "Just
give me some time. That's all."

      Across from me, Talen wipes his blade clean of the blood and sheathes
it.

      "We'll need camels," Cory says. "I arranged for some along with a
guide, but we've got to make it to the caravanserai. Someone's going to
have to go back into the city to get them."

      "I'll go," Angelaria says. "You two stay with Kian."

      "I'm fine," I say. "I can protect myself."

      "And you did a fine job of it," Talen remarks. His tone really sets
me off. Anger wells up inside me like the tide pulled by the moon. I swing
a fist at him; catch his jaw with a sucker punch.

      Talen falls, lip split and bleeding.

      "Kian, stop it!" Angelaria yells.

      I look at Talen's bright blood and then drop to my knees. I reach out
to touch his shoulder but he slaps my hand away.

      "I'm sorry," I say, chewing on my lower lip. "Talen, I'm
sorry. You're my best friend in the whole world and I need you right now."

      "You've got a good way of showing it," he says. By now, Angelaria's
at his side, pressing a cold wet cloth to his mouth.

      I fold my arms around myself and start rocking back and forth on the
balls of my feet.  "You've no idea," I say, my voice choking with emotion,
"how much I hate myself right now."

      Both of them look at me. Angelaria breaks the silence first.

      "Kian, I don't understand but whatever it was that they did to you in
there isn't permanent."

      "You know what happened," I say. "You both know. I was overconfident,
secretive, and made a terrible mistake. Now I'm taking it out on the three
friends that I love the most."

      "It couldn't have been avoided," Cory says while putting his bow
across his back. "Any one of us might've fallen into that trap. The fact
that it was set for you is just a warning to all of us that we need to keep
a better eye on each other. You've joined us all in ways I could never
imagine. Once we had sex with each other, we became a family. Our
responsibility to one another's as thick as the blood that flows in my
veins. Kian," he says, "You've to have faith in yourself."

      "Faith?!" I stammer. "Faith?! I have faith, Cory. I prayed to Tethyr
as hard as I could that he'd help me. And you know what. It wasn't worth
shit. I think I even saw my god in the room but I can't be sure. I think I
saw him watching over me. Can you fucking believe that? I saw my god
watching over me, and he didn't even lift a finger to help."

      "How can you be sure?" Talen asks.

      I clench my fist and turn away from him. I glance down at the
vizier's body, which is already swarming in black flies there at the edge
of the drainage gate. "I-I can't. But...it's like a gut feeling" I stop
talking, leaving an awkward void of silence.

      Angelaria grabs a few coins and hands the purse to Talen for
safekeeping. "I'll be back shortly," she says. "Try not to create any more
wounds while I'm gone, emotional or otherwise." I think the "otherwise" is
clearly aimed in my direction.

      The three of us wait in the heat, suffering the stench that rises
from the sewer. We're unwilling to move because it's probably the best
place to hide from anyone that might be looking down from the walls. My
body aches all over and despite the heat, sometimes I get these cold
flashes that turns my skin clammy. Talen watches over me, his gaze
softening once his lip stops bleeding.  He even apologizes for his
outburst. I tell him that it's not his fault; that it's more my fault.

      And that's all I have to say about that.

      Angelaria returns a little after midday pulling two camels behind
her. I'd never really been close to one before. They're big, mean, and not
the cleanest beasts in the world. However, they aren't called "ships of the
desert" for nothing. Furthermore, these particular camels are outfitted
with supplies and blankets to soften the ride. Talen climbs up first and
then lifts me up behind him.  Angelaria and Cory get onto the second
one. Then the four of us head west, leaving Kaibar at our backs.

      After about a quarter of a mile or so of rolling terrain comprised
mostly of dirt, rock, and covered in the occasional spot of dead grass and
scraggly cacti, Talen steers us toward the bleak sands of the coastal
desert. The pyramid we're looking for is supposed to be along the coast, so
as long as we keep the Sea of Daryabar in our sight we should be okay to
find it.

      Day turns into night. We rest.

      Talen scrounges up some firewood washed up on shore. I note it's been
bleached white and dried out by the sun. It makes excellent tinder; a good
thing because nights in the open desert are colder than they are in the
city of Kaibar. In a proper city, you've walls to shelter and retain heat.
Not so in the open desert. Here the heat of the day bleeds slowly into that
dark vastness between the stars. To make matters worse, the ride on the
camel's back has made me so sore I can barely walk. I hide as much of this
from my companions as I can by biting down and suffering the pain in
silence. I'm supposed to be an assassin and a master of my body. Not vice
versa. And assassin's don't show weakness.

      When sleep finally claims me, I'm plagued with nightmares. There's
something deeply personal about dreams that make it hard for me to express
them. However, as disturbing as these are I feel that maybe I deserve them
this time. I need to suffer some kind of punishment for the horrible person
I am, right? Tonight's no different. I wake up feeling like someone's been
hurting me, only this time I find I've scratched myself on both arms. Talen
sleeps peacefully enough though, and I manage to steal some of that peace
by just curling up next to him.

      The three of us set off before sunrise. I choose to walk for a while,
hoping to work some of the stiffness out of my legs and the soreness from
my body. With the last sunrise, however, I relent and climb up onto our
camel so that we can proceed on our route without adding unnecessary time
to the day's travel.

      Near noon on the fourth day of our journey I'm sunburnt and a little
thirsty. I think all three of us are secretly praying for some kind of
relief. The desert heat is at its worst. Our camel crests the surface of a
sparkling dune, and that's when I feel a breeze. It's cool to the touch and
caresses the skin of my face.

      Before us lies the Oasis of the Crimson Claw. It's about two miles
from the shore.

      This place is huge (easily a mile or more across) with dense growth
at the center and scattered trees and shrubs near the edges. Multi-colored
tents lie peppered about the sand with many erected beneath the trees at
the outer edge to take advantage of the shade. The largest concentration of
them is in the northeast corner (the one nearest our path). On the far side
of the oasis, the Pyramid of Djoser soars, gleaming from the sand like a
wall of untouched marble. At its base, I spy a temple without
windows. Stone statues of giant men, weather-worn with age, hold naked
swords pointed downward. They have the heads of jackals. Malefic and
powerful they gaze down upon all who would enter the sacred site.

      As we approach, I surmise that the pyramid is some 750 feet tall. The
fact that its walls seem untouched by time makes me think some kind of
magic is at work here. Men and women at the oasis are the same dark-skinned
variety I saw in Kaibar. Many of them look upon us with suspicion; none
dare approach.

      "Look at their horses," Talen says, pointing.

      I follow his finger. I see a group of white stallions bearing
prominent feathered wings upon their backs. Grooms attending them brush
their fine manes and scratch at the feathers as if oblivious to the wonder
that's before them.

      "Flying horses?" I question. "I've never heard of such a thing."

      "Pegasi," Correldon says. "The Daarans raise them on the fields to
the west of the Icewall and sell them to the tribes of the desert."

      "They're beautiful," Angelaria says with wide-eyed wonder.

      The four of us dismount. I try to get the attention of a girl
carrying water back to one of the tents.

      "Excuse me," I say, "is there anyone that'll look after our camels?"

      She nods and points toward a compound of white lime-covered bricks,
which seem to be near the center of the Oasis.

      "You'll find someone there, at the Desert Voyager's Compound," she
says before continuing on.

      I turn toward my friends and they nod as one.

      "If things don't work out, we'll need these old boys to get us out of
here," Talen remarks.

      "I agree," I say, shading my eyes from the fury of the suns. I lead
the three of us and our camels over to the walls of the compound where the
girl indicated we should go. Standing just inside the gates is a mud-brick
building with an open door. To one side are small barred windows hung with
dusty curtains. Men that might be guards for the Desert Voyagers look out
from inside a dimly- lit room lined with benches and a wooden trestle
table. Just beyond is a washing house where nomad women gather in
full-length black gowns to clean clothes.

      "Over here," Talen says, sussing out a stables. As we approach, I see
rows of stalls lining the inside of the modest brick building. It has
bundles of straw and hay, obviously imported, standing in one
corner. There's a small yard attached to the stables. It's sheltered by a
roof. Two camels stand there enjoying the shade. "It looks promising."

      "I agree." We walk inside where a girl with bronze skin and brown
eyes walks toward us.

      "Welcome," she says, "to Hassan's stables."

      "Hassan?" I ask, removing some coins from a pouch.

      She examines them carefully. "I like the color of your money,
sire. How long will your animals be staying with us?"

      "I'm not sure," I tell her. "A few days I think."

      "Then this is more than enough. Hassan is the son of the sheikh," she
declares. "If you're travelers from Kaibar, you might well take a meeting
with him so that he can share his hospitality with you."

      "And is the hospitality of the desert people good?" Correldon asks.

      "All travelers are welcome," she says, and with no deference to the
elf. "I've never seen someone that quite looks like you or your
companions. I'm thinking that you're not from Kaibar but from some farther
place."

      "You're very astute," Talen says, placing his hand on mine.

      I resist the compulsion to caress his fingers. If what the demon lord
said is true (and that I'm truly evil) then maybe I need to start
distancing myself a little or risk hurting my boyfriend. I don't want him
to be evil or to have to make choices that are wrong. He's innocent of all
this, and I won't drag his soul to Hell with me if that's truly where I'm
destined to end up.

      "And you needn't mention that to anyone, if you catch my drift,"
Talen tells her. "There just might be another one of these in it for you if
you keep your silence." Talen fingers a gold piece, and then drops it in
her outstretched palm.

      "There are many things that the desert hides from the eyes of men,
strangers. I'll bury my memory of you like the sand buries the dead, if
this is what you wish."

      "We wish it," I say. Then we leave to rejoin Angelaria.

      "Everything go all right?" she asks.

      I nod. "They'll watch the camels for a few days. Let's walk over to
the temple and see if the writ Talen has will get us inside."

      The oasis is covered in thick groves of palm trees, and they soar
overhead. The Pyramid of Djoser lies on the westernmost side of the oasis
with its temple and statues facing toward the rising suns. We come across a
well-traveled path that's paved in smooth slabs of marble spaced
intermittently between the palm trees. At the center of the Oasis of the
Crimson Claw, two large pools of water bubble up from deep inside the
earth. The vegetation grows thick here with ferns circling the water's
edge. There are several old statues placed in areas that might be sacred if
not now then sometime in the past. It's my impression that this oasis has
easily been here for many centuries, long enough at least to attract a
permanent gathering of tribes that claim the Balsora desert as their home.

      At last I stand before the great pyramid itself.

      The highly-polished rock that forms its exterior remains untouched by
desert sands, this in contrast to the rock of the twenty-foot high wall
that surrounds its base. The only break in the guarding wall is the temple
that faces the rising suns. The entrance is a grandiose flat area open to
the sky and lying on the eastern edge some forty feet off the
ground. Stairs ascend to the pyramid atop a ramp connecting the rear of the
temple to the front of the pyramid. Like the stone of the surrounding wall,
the stone of the temple is worn by time and wind. There are no windows that
I can see and only one entrance flanked by a circular basin filled with
crystal clear water. Its source must be either from the oasis or perhaps
inside the pyramid itself. Proceeding up thirty feet to the entrance is a
staircase of well-worn granite wide enough for five men to walk
abreast. The top of the temple is capped by three brilliant golden domes
which gleam hotly at this time of day.

      I glance over at Angelaria; she's mopping sweat from her brow.

      "It's your call, Kian," she says. "We've followed you this far. Let's
see what's up there."

      I swallow the spit in my mouth. "I guess we'll know soon enough if
I'm right about this."

      I stride past the fountain and proceed to climb up the stairs two and
three at a time. When I reach the top, I wait for my friends. Together we
walk into the cool shadows of the temple entrance to behold the first of
many wonders.

      Directly inside is a hall about a hundred feet in length. It's
beautifully arranged with six pillars on either side. Gold filigree covers
both their top and bottom. At the hall's end is a beautifully decorated
arch sculpted into the shape of an onion. Inside this arch are two doors of
polished bronze guarded by two men in golden scale kalisiris. Their chests
are evenly muscled and each wears a coiled cobra armband. The guards are
not human, but xirasian.

      They have the faces of cats and gaze upon us now, eyes narrowing to
black slits in a sea of yellow. Each one's armed with a fanciful falchion.

      Talen removes the writ from his shirt and shows it to the guards once
we get up to where they stand. One takes it from him; studies it
carefully. The rest of us stand there, eyeing the raised decorations
hammered into the door.

      Wordlessly, the xirasians open the portal at their backs. Talen tries
to retrieve the letter, but the guard who still holds it in his hand
hurries us through with a gesture. So, we step past them and into a
corridor that's ten or so feet wide and extends from the temple entryway to
another set of doors, only these are unguarded.

                                    *****

      Chapter 37 Next Week!