Date: Sun, 15 May 2016 16:54:08 -0600
From: Michael Offutt <kavrik@hotmail.com>
Subject: Chapter 18-The Orb of Winter-Gay Science Fiction

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				   *****

			     Chapter Eighteen

   Ephram crossed over to a row of steps, took them two at a time, and
kicked at the double doors, swinging them wide. There before him stood a
vaulted hall about thirty feet deep. Shackles on the walls still held onto
the bodies of humans that had been drained of blood for food. Behind him,
Akagi and the others walked up the steps, and Ephram looked around for a
place to set down Brunhilda who grew increasingly heavier in his arms with
each passing minute.
   These hapless victims were probably culled from the Zandan slave pens
somewhere in this dreadful country, Ephram thought.
   He saw they'd been hung upside down by the feet, throats slit so that
every drop of blood would flow down from the neck into bowls that could be
carried to the serving tables. Their lifeless bodies were limp and sagging
from the cuffs, bones flared under thin leathery skin. The stones on the
floor bore many red stains where blood had been spilt. Ephram lifted his
visor and took a look around to see if shadows lurked here still, a sign
that all was not dead in this place of wickedness.
   Then Annie walked in and screamed. She pointed a finger at one of the
corpses, and Ephram saw a symbol there, branded on the flesh. It was of a
fallen angel and a demon that roughly formed the shape of a capital "H"
turned on its side. The demon was on top, the angel upside down on the
bottom, the wings spread on both and then joined at the waist. As Ephram
watched the brand, he saw the eyes on the demon blink at him as if they
were alive.
   He staggered backward not sure of what he'd just seen.
   Annie joined him on his left side, looking diminutive and frail. "Eph,
what sorcery is that? I'm frightened." She gripped him by the elbow and
started crying.
   "It's the Mark of Zanda," Henna said, wind sweeping her green cloak
about her ankles. Snow blew in from the open door, which Akagi made an
effort to close. "It's a powerful symbol that can never be removed once
branded on the flesh like that. It allows the followers of Zandine to
always know the location of their slaves should they run. It's said that
once you're a slave of Zanda, there's no escape." The druidess walked over
to a table and swept the plates and cups onto the floor with her arm. "Set
Brunhilda here," she said. Ephram did just that.
   Jareck the dwarf walked over to the cold corpses and Ephram watched him
with interest. The dwarf warrior set his axe to one side, kneeled, and said
prayers over the dead, clasping his holy symbol to the god of the earth in
his leather gloves. When he finished, he kissed it and then put the symbol
back in its safe spot under his armored cuirass.
   With last rites now over, the dwarf rejoined them. "I'm sorry that took
so long," he said. "I just didn't feel right leaving them there like
that. I mean, I'd expect someone to do that for me should I be killed on
the field of battle."
   "You're not going to die in battle," Ephram said.
   By now Henna had removed Brunhilda's breastplate to reveal her bloody
undershirt. She cut that away and looked at the ebony skin of the
warrior. "Five wounds, all mortal. She'll die soon without treatment."
   "Can you save her?" Fiver asked. The hare-foot hopped up onto a bench to
get a better look.
   "I'll try, but no promises. She's losing a lot of blood." Henna extended
her hands over the chest of the ursuuli gladiator and started chanting the
healing words, beseeching the spirit of the earth to find this place and
bolster the life of Brunhilda, which now hung in the balance. Green light
spread along her fingers which now hung downward like talons. Henna's
chanting rebounded from the walls and the light entered the shorn flesh and
staunched the flow of blood. Visibly, the tissues started to knit closed.
   "Remarkable," Salina said, striding up. "Your magic is impressive,
druidess."
   Henna didn't respond, and sweat rolled off her brow as she continued to
invoke the magic.
   "Let's have a look at this place," Akagi said, hefting his
kanabo. "There's a door on the left. Where doth it lead?" Ephram nodded to
the now grinning Akagi and joined the ronin, sword in hand. At Ephram's
urging, Akagi gripped the handle and gave it a tug. Just beyond lay a
passage. To the immediate left, a stairwell rose into the ceiling.
   "I think we could start with the stairs," Shae offered, striding up from
behind. In her hand she gripped the trusty scimitar she used in battle. Her
elvish armor looked a fright covered in fresh snow and blood.
   Then Annie showed up just behind her shoulder. "Eph...where are you
going?"
   "We need to check to see if anyone else is here," Ephram replied,
carefully approaching the stairwell.
   "Can't we do that tomorrow?" she asked, tossing her red hair
attractively over one shoulder. "I'm tired."
   The knight shook his head. "It needs to be done now. I don't know about
you, but I want to know what this place has in store for us before I go to
bed."
   Annie sighed and stepped up behind him. "I'm not staying with
Brunhilda. If you're bent on exploring then I'm coming along."
   "Suit yourself," Ephram said and then mumbled a blessing over her, which
made Annie smile. Then the Valion knight took lead and climbed the stairs
one by one, trying hard to make as little noise as possible.
   The second floor in the tower opened into a large circular room to which
there were three arches that led into chambers in the parapets that he'd
seen from the exterior. The staircase continued upward, but Ephram saw that
the third, fourth, and fifth floors were cordoned off by balconies of wood
and they all shared a common vaulted ceiling high above. Tapestries from
the fifth floor were draped over the balcony and descended past the lower
floors almost to the top of this one on which they stood.
   There was an awful rotting smell in the air too, and it made Annie
sick. She knelt over and vomited in one corner of the stairwell.
   "It smells like death," Akagi remarked, taking one step into the room
and looking both left and right for the source. "In anyone else's company,
I'd be worried."
   As they rounded a corner, Ephram got a view of a three-headed dog
composed completely of squirming worms. As Ephram stepped up behind Akagi,
the ronin put his feet on the wooden floor planks and they creaked loudly
under his weight. Ephram shot him a sideways glance, but the noise was
enough to alert the hound, which lifted its maggot encased head and stood
up on legs that writhed with the squishy things.
   The monstrosity howled and the sound reverberated from the walls; Ephram
thought it resembled the dull thrum produced by a million insect casings
rubbing together. Then it lunged at him; he dodged and thrust his sword
into the body of the horror, but the motion just showered the ground at his
feet with worms that crawled back to the main body and merged into the
hound through its toes.
   It whirled on Ephram and struck him with a paw that he deflected with
his arm. However, the force of the hit caught Ephram by surprise and threw
him up against the eastern wall with a loud "thwack." Because of its size,
only one of its four nails raked across his armor which did nothing to the
corobidian suit. The other three gouged the rock on either side of Ephram's
body, carving out deep slits into the hard granite blocks and peppering the
wooden floor with pebbles.
   Ephram cried out in pain and staggered to his feet near the south side
of the chamber.
   At his direct opposite, Akagi distracted the three-headed dog with a
flash of his iron club. The monster attacked him with two of its heads. His
catlike reflexes avoided one of the clashing set of mandibles, but Akagi
backed himself into a corner and the other mouth snapped over his chest
when he couldn't maneuver out of the way.
   Teeth lanced off his oyoroi armor in a burst of sparks. When it pulled
away, Akagi's armor fell from his shoulder in tatters.
   "Bloody hell," Akagi swore. "Someone get Henna! We need magic!"
   At the entrance to the room, Fiver shot a couple of cibrian-tipped
arrows at the dog but they passed harmlessly through it. Then the two
elvish Valkyries dove onto the floor swinging scimitars wildly around, but
the blades also did nothing. Last to try anything, Jareck the dwarf
appeared wielding the Howl of Night in his mighty hands.
   "If this doesn't make you bleed, then nothing will!" Jareck yelled, and
then down came the axe.
   But the monster scooped Jareck up as if he were a paperweight and threw
him against the floor with such force, it knocked a hole through the
four-inch thick wooden beams and pinned Jareck to the concrete
beneath. Splinters and wood shavings exploded into the air. The hound
raised one of its paws and crushed Jareck, pressing down upon him with all
its weight and worms spilled into the hole, obscuring him from sight.
   Ephram heard him scream in pain; he thought he saw blood fountain up
from Jareck's mouth.
   Then Henna appeared at the top of the stairs, looking exhausted from
having healed Brunhilda. Ephram wanted to send her away; he wanted to tell
her they didn't need her.
   But the fact is they did.
   Ephram reached for Jareck's arm under the worms and pulled him away from
the hound, whose attention was partially drawn by the appearance of the
druidess. The dwarf leaned against the wall to catch his breath. And from
out of the corner of Ephram's eye, he saw Henna raise her hands and begin
to cast a spell, calling upon the lilting word of the druid ancients to
raise the magic of the wyld in their defense.
   The windows on this level of the tower exploded inward, and cold wind
poured into the room, swirling in icy eddies, carrying with it snowflakes
and the bitter chill of Zanda in winter. White light from the elf's
extended hand directed the wind to flow around the three-headed dog.
   It was cold magic, a spell of winter amplified by the presence of so
much frigid waste outside the keep.
   The hound bayed once from each of its mouths and then to Ephram's
surprise, it fell apart into millions of worms that swamped the floor, the
stairs, and the other adjoining rooms in a wave of pink bodies to a depth
of about three inches.
   "Are you okay?" Ephram asked Jareck.
   The dwarf nodded, "Yes, but I may need to sit the next one out."
   Ephram shook his head, seeing Akagi limp as he went to follow the
rabbit. "How about you?"
   "I-I think I've broken something," the ronin admitted. "Maybe a
rib—that hit was a lot stronger than I thought from...well, whatever it
was."
   "A maggot demon," An exhausted Henna said. "They're summoned from the
Lice Fields of Hell. Their bite causes flesh to rot with disease; their
claws can cut through any material, except, corobidian and cibrian. You two
are lucky that I was here. I knew that insects and worms are susceptible to
the cold—it's why they kept it inside I'd imagine—to keep people from
out of the upper levels. It couldn't escape because the cold this time of
year would cause it to disassociate into this," she gestured, "a sea of
worms."
   Akagi leaned on Ephram who helped him up the stairs to the next
level. Behind them, the bubbling carpet of worms rubbed against each other
trying to stay away from the cold air swooping in upon them from the
shattered windows. The sound they produced was like a dull sizzle from a
frying pan.
   The third floor held two chambers.
   The first they walked into was some kind of laboratory.
   Beakers and pipettes lined the granite walls on old dusty shelves. There
were multi-colored jars of strange liquids that bubbled and fizzed behind
glass containers.
   "Don't touch anything," Henna warned. "This is stuff used in the rituals
of making the Necrolords." She hopped along, leaving the trail of her boots
in brown dirt that lined the wooden floor in a thin layer.
   Ephram smelt phosphorous and the unmistakable scent of putrefaction. In
an adjoining room through an archway of stones, they came across a grisly
experiment. It was a table with a naked human who'd been sewn together in
several places and his body glistened in the light. The body had obviously
been enlarged through grafts of flesh and bone which would explain the
seven-foot height of the Necrolords. Ephram turned away from the hulking,
distorted, misshapen feet which were probably twenty-inches long and half
as wide. Toes were grown together, bent, and gnarled.
   "Disgusting," he heard Akagi utter.
   Ephram could see heavy ridges of bone over the ribcage, further
protection against weapons if the armor they wore was not sufficient.
   "This one was almost ready for resurrection to the undead," Henna said.
   "How do you know?" Fiver asked, whiskers trembling.
   "Its skin was anointed with jars of this," she said, showing Ephram a
strange black container filled with an oily unguent. "Go ahead, it's safe
to inspect."
   Ephram sniffed at it, detecting an almost spicy cologne rising from
it. "Why do they use this?" He tipped some onto his finger, a single drop,
and looked at it. The oil was clear and gleamed in the light.
   "Don't get any of that on you unless you want the spot it touches to be
free of hair forever."
   "It removes hair?" Fiver asked. "Keep that fuckin' shite away from me."
   Henna nodded. "In preparing the Necrolords, all hair is removed from the
body. The inside of their armor is lined with living horsehair and once the
armor is strapped onto the Necrolords, the horsehair grows into the smooth
skin of the undead warrior. Their armor essentially becomes self-repairing
so that when it's damaged, it grows back, allowing them to be free of the
need for blacksmiths."
   "Fuckin brilliant," Ephram said, "in a macabre kind of way."
   On the fourth floor, they entered an office that must have belonged to
someone of importance. There were large rolled maps, scroll cases of bone,
leather-bound books, and other devices laying strewn about a cluttered oak
desktop.
   Akagi stood by the heavily stained wooden door. The rest of them
searched.
   "I think I've found something," Ephram said after about a minute. "This
is a map with a circle over a keep that I think describes where we
are. It's called Alsamarax; it lies east of the town of Kalek Haru, which
in Zandan means `the Throat of Hell.'"
   "Nice," Shae said. "Nothing like a little hyperbole to get you
going—how far is it?"
   "No more than ten leagues. According to this map, there are thirty
leagues total between here and the Holy City. I count quite a lot of small
towns and hamlets, but Kalek Haru is the one that's nearest the wall. They
probably knew to keep the territory belonging to the Ice Maidens free of
settlements. I wonder what set them off? Anyway, that's where we'll head
tomorrow. Shouldn't take us but one day to travel that length. Fiver,
between now and tomorrow, come up with a disguise for us. I want us to pass
for locals."
   The hare-foot ranger sighed and wrung his hands. "Aye, aye, captain. But
that's not going to be easy."
   Ephram rolled up the map and tucked it away in his bag. "We gave up on
things being `easy' once we landed on the shore of this god-forsaken
country. All right, I think we've everything that we needed from
here. Let's go back down and see how Brunhilda is doing."
   "When I left her with Dallin to come and save you, her breathing was
much stronger and all the bleeding had stopped," Henna said.
   Ephram nodded and put a hand on Henna's shoulder to deliver a comforting
squeeze. "Thank you, druidess." Annie's face darkened a bit when Ephram did
that.
   I'll have to address that wee bit of jealousy sooner rather than later,
Ephram thought. Maybe tonight after we bang.
   "There's more of the keep yet to explore," Akagi said. "Do I have your
permission to keep looking?"
   Ephram regarded the anxious faces of his team and then nodded yes to
Akagi's request. "I'm going to cut down the bodies from the main room and
put them out of sight. Maybe, if we have time, we can give them a proper
burial in the yard tomorrow. Jareck, if you wouldn't mind assisting me, I
think we could get that done while Akagi and the others continue searching
the rest of this place."
   Jareck gave Ephram a stern nod and then handed Akagi a curved
horn. "That, my lad, is carved from the horn of a Nimmermore ram...one of
the largest my clan ever saw. A jeweler spent weeks adding the
embellishments you see on the mouthpiece, but its tune is loud and
clear. Blow it once if you need our help. We'll come running."
   Akagi took it and left with Fiver, Shae, Salina, and Henna in
tow. Jareck, Ephram, and Annie returned to the entrance hall and went about
cutting down the corpses. Following that, they stowed them in a side room,
and then set up camp for the night. Akagi returned some time later,
reporting that they'd discovered some things that would help them with
their disguises, and Fiver would explain more in the morning.
   After setting up a watch rotation, they turned in for the night.
   Annie had hung up some blankets she'd found in a closet in one corner of
the cavernous entry hall to give them some privacy. Once inside the cozy
partition, he saw that Annie had spread a wool blanket out over the stone
floor. He watched with amusement as she emptied a small bag, pulling out
foodstuffs, some flat bread, two varieties of cheese, and some salami.
   There's no way all of that fit inside that bag, he thought. "And just
where did you get these?" he asked. "I hope it wasn't from the kitchen. We
don't know what that stuff is made of."
   "Relax. I keep these in my magical bag. It's an heirloom from my family,
and holds all of my stuff. It's much larger on the inside than haversacks
with the same enchantment that sell for a fortune in Mon Arcanos. The
fabric is made from a special spider that can travel between the planes of
existence. It's quite strong and has distance distortion properties," Annie
said.
   Ephram shrugged and said, "Fair enough." Then he stepped onto the
blanket.
   Annie frowned and said, "Uh-uh...not with your boots on."
   "Sorry," Ephram replied. He moved to the edge and sat down and fumbled
at one of the pouches that hung on his utility belt. It required the use of
a special tool octagonal and long, bent into an L-shape. He inserted it
near joints at the ankle and wound it clockwise. The corobidian greaves
loosened, and he slipped off his left boot first and then followed through
with his right.
   "Better?" he asked, wiggling his toes.
   She slipped off her slippers and sat next to him. He rested his back
against the stone wall while she straddled his legs and held a sandwich to
his mouth.
   "I can feed myself," Ephram said, looking at the ravishing redhead.
   "You can yes. But this is more fun," Annie stated. Then she kissed him
and followed up with an offering of bread and meat. Ephram licked at her
fingers with a soft pink tongue, and she laughed. She mussed his hair and
felt his ears between her fingers.
   Her skin is so soft and warm.
   Ephram took the food from out of her hand and placed it on the blanket
just to the right of her thigh. Then he rolled on top of her. His heart
pounded in his chest, and she reached down and removed his gauntlets. One
by one she warmed his fingers with the breath of her mouth.
   "You are so beautiful," Ephram remarked as Annie wet his fingers. "Not
all scarred up like me."
   Annie kissed him on the nose and then traced her hand along one of his
scars. "Doesn't Thomas say that war is heaven? Aren't scars a part of war?
Eph, it's the flaws that are the attractive parts," she said. "It's what
makes you human and gives contrast to all of the other parts so that they
look that much more beautiful. Think of how plain the ocean would be
without any islands."
   "Is that what I am to you?" he asked, teasing her. "An ocean?"
   "Sometimes a girl can love the ocean simply because it doesn't have a
strong opinion." She laid her head against his chest. "How can I answer
that objectively? Am I just another port for you? The way you look at Henna
makes me think I might be. The sea teams with life you know. The most
powerful of the sea creatures have hot blood. How hot is your blood, Eph?"
Then she sucked on his lips. He caressed her neck with his mouth. He moved
his face down over her shirt and rubbed his nose over the thin cloth that
covered her breasts. "I'd say pretty damn hot," she murmured.
   "I want to fuck you," he whispered.
   Annie kissed him on the mouth and said, "I'll play with you but we won't
go all the way," she whispered.
   "Why not?" he asked her all of a sudden. "This isn't about Henna is it?
I don't love her."
   "That's a difficult situation," Annie admitted. "Something has changed
between us. I don't know what I feel anymore."
   Ephram scraped the skin on her chin with his teeth. It was a gentle, wet
scrape. His breath flowed fresh and alive from between moist lips. "That
doesn't sound like a reason not to suck on my cock."
   "Maybe you could settle my mind a bit then by answering a few
questions. I have to feel the moment, Eph, and right now I don't feel
it. But I think you could convince me." Annie pushed away from him.
   He stared into her eyes, blinking. I can't believe this is fucking
happening, he thought. "Okay, ask me anything." Ephram's voice sounded soft
and loving. He nuzzled her and it made Annie giggle.
   "If Henna and I had both fallen from the Bone Wall, and you could only
save one of us, who would you choose?"
   Ephram shook his head. "What? Where'd that come from?"
   "I don't know," she said softly. "I just wanted to know. You do value
me, right? Even though I can't work magic like she can?"
   He took a drink from a water skin and offered her some.
   "No thank you," she said.
   He put the stopper in it. "I'd save you," he said. "Every single time."
   There was a moment of silence as she considered his words.
   Ephram took the silence as an excuse to explore her voluptuous body. He
stole a kiss from her and she rolled her tongue over his, tasted him, and
sucked on his lip. He moved down her body and cupped her nipples through
the fabric of her dress using only pressure from his mouth. He teased her
bodice with his tongue. Annie's eyes rolled back in her head with pleasure,
but that didn't stop her from pushing him back once more.
   "I don't feel we've been completely honest with each other?" she
said. "I know this is a rescue mission to free White Wolf Beryl Loftcrag,
your liege and friend. But you've never told me why he's so important?"
   He looked down at his feet that were on the blanket. "He's my best
friend."
   "I know that," she said, "But I know there's something else
too. Something of strategic importance to the church. If it has to do with
Thomas, you can tell me, baby. Trust me, show me that you care."
   He fingered the ties to her blouse. "Beryl knows the location of the Orb
of Winter. We can't let that information fall into Zandan hands, because
it's a weapon of incredible power."
   "The Orb of Winter?" she verified. "As in the one of legend, the one
that holds Thomas's power over the cold itself?"
   He nodded, and then stared into her eyes. The sea of cool color that
floated in her irises stole the breath from his lungs. Somewhere behind the
hope of all that beauty lay the promise of children at the expense of
tremendous pleasure. He could only imagine how perfect they would look
given a father that possessed Ephram's comeliness, or how intelligent they
would be given Annie's beautiful mind.
   "But that's not all, is there? They want you too, right. The despicable
and ugly Hunter said as much back when you told Akagi to kill Zakkith
Marr. Eph, send him away when he returns. I just know Hunter's a
traitor. He'll get us all killed, and he looks at me all the time like he
wants me for himself."
   Ephram looked puzzled. "Hunter's never shown his face."
   "It doesn't matter. A girl like me can tell when men want to ravage
them. And as for the evil people, you know why they want you," Annie
said. Her tone changed to one that was all business. "It's okay that you
don't trust the others. But I know you know. Tell me, and I'll let you fuck
me all night."
   "Yes, I do know. But, I'm forbidden to speak of it," Ephram said. The
look on his face showed clear annoyance. He tried to roll her back over but
she resisted and put her hand on his chest to show him who had the control.
   "Forbidden?" she asked him. She ran her fingers through his hair and
Ephram relaxed. "At least you can tell me...something." She kissed his
fingers.
   "I know the password to get past the cibrian golem that protects the
orb," Ephram blurted out as she inserted his index finger into her
mouth. As a reward for his honesty, she also started cupping his codpiece
between his legs.
   "Go on," Annie said. She opened her blouse so that he could see her
chest. The fabric hung as if made of gossamer. This time she allowed him to
roll her. He gently resumed a position on top of her and licked her skin
until it glistened. "Tell me more," Annie said, breathing heavily and
trying not to close her eyes. Her fingers formed claws as he worked her
lovely nipples. "Tell me the password. Someone else should know it if
there's an emergency. It's too big a burden for your shoulders to bear
alone."
   Ephram suckled, stopped, and then smoothed her hair back with his
hand. "Promise you won't tell anyone," he said.
   "I swear," Annie replied, "on my love of all things Thomas I give you my
word, Captain Ephram Skye."
   Ephram swallowed, and said. "It's `Nightwing,' the name of Thomas's
silver dragon."
   Annie smiled and said, "Thank you." Then she pulled out Ephram's dick,
wet her hand, and slid down her panties. She looked up once as she helped
him to insert it inside her thirsty hole. "My god it's so big," she
exclaimed. "It always takes me by surprise." Then Annie allowed Ephram to
fuck her, and she moaned so loudly with each thrust of his cock in her
loose pussy that the others in the room on the far side of the blanket wall
started to complain.
   But at least the night passed without menace.
   The sun's rays had just started to peer in through the great hall's many
windows when Dallin woke Ephram. He pulled himself from Annie's embrace,
and the redhead rubbed the sleep out of her eyes.
   "Tomoluk's returned," Dallin said. "But he came without Hunter. He said
Hunter tried to kill him at the bridge, but he was able to call upon the
strength of his ancestors and fight him off. He believes he killed
him. He's outside with Salina checking the stables for horses. I think I
might make a song about all this. You mind if I write about this night of
passion you just had? It sounded epic." The bard winked at Ephram.
   "Must you rib me so? I haven't even had my coffee yet," Ephram said, and
then went about putting on his armor. Annie helped, tightening straps here
and there and then going out to bring back a basin with fresh water in it
so that he could wash his face and hands. "I love you," he said to her.
   "I know," she replied.
   "Help the others get ready. We leave within the hour," Ephram said. Then
he fastened his sword about his waist and walked to the front of the hall
where the double doors were. The others in the encampment were only now
getting up and rummaging about. Fiver had started to cook breakfast on a
small fire.
   "It'll be quick," Fiver muttered. "We found some eggs and bacon in a
larder last night. Seems a shame to waste that, even if it was food for
necromancers."
   "I'll be back in five minutes. See to it that you're well on your way to
packing," Ephram said. Then he threw open the doors and walked into the
snowy morning. There in the sunlight, Ephram shaded his eyes a moment from
the three suns which appeared just over the horizon. Because of the many
white flakes, they looked hazy, and they outlined a large barn with a steep
shingled roof. It had a large windlass about twenty feet off the ground
that could be used to hoist things to the second story of the barn or to
load and unload wagons. The thing was attached to a large wooden beam that
extended over the main courtyard.
   Ephram heard a sound then: a great flap of wings and a hazy shape
appeared from around the bend of the castle walls. On the dragon's back
rode two huge foot soldiers. However, he knew they were far from
ordinary. These were infamous Nevrenachtur lords wearing steel blue armor
enchanted with spell reflection. Each held a cadel in one hand, hinting at
their size which was distorted by distance and the swirling snow. Across
their backs, they both carried two huge claymores.
   Ephram whirled and shouted back through the door, "We're under attack!"
and sprinted for the opening.
   The dragon unleashed with an explosion of sound and as its breath weapon
slammed into the front of the keep, the whole façade caved-in. Huge
blocks fell from the upper stories, beams as thick as a horse snapped in
two and crashed to the floor. Ephram found himself hurtling through the
air, thrown by the shockwave of the dragon's breath weapon. He crashed
helplessly against one of the heavy oak columns supporting the windlass
near the entrance of the stable and lay there in the snow, dazed and
confused and his ears ringing.
   Heavy footfalls approached, and Ephram turned his head to see that the
dragon had landed in the courtyard and now, two giants walked toward
him. Just behind the dragon, the collapsed keep (already gathering snow)
looked more like a graveyard cairn for his friends that were either dead or
buried alive. Either way, it was difficult for Ephram not to give into
despair.
   "So this is the great Crimson Guard," Cirumoghel uttered with absolute
contempt. "I'm so scared. Sarcasm aside, you should know who defeats you. I
am Cirumoghel and this is Mara Kano. You are our prisoner."
   He pressed his huge foot on Ephram's throat. It was nearly as wide as
Ephram's head. When feeling started to return to his limbs, he reached up
and gripped the giant's ankles, pushing up with all his strength.
   "Do you know how much I was warned about you? And yet, here I am and I
haven't even broken a sweat." Cirumoghel turned his boot so that the side
of it forced Ephram's head to the left and used his heel to dig into the
neck. The sole of Cirumoghel's boot was caked in dry mud, and it dirtied
Ephram's face through his open visor.
   "Why don't you let me up?" Ephram grunted. "I'll give you a proper
welcome." As much as he tried to hide it, his voice sounded desperate and
hollow.
   Cirumoghel's chest shook with laughter. Ephram squirmed but to no
avail. Inside the helmet, his eyes watered and he gasped for breath. Ephram
knew that the giant man only used a fraction of his total strength. Still,
Ephram couldn't even budge Cirumoghel's ankle by as much as a hair's
breadth. And despite the unyielding nature of corobidian mail around
Ephram's neck, the armor compressed. It squeezed off his air flow and he
grew afraid that it could cave-in and choke him to death.
   "He's murdered our brothers and sisters," Mara Kano said from a few feet
to the right.
   She uttered it in an off-hand way, as if Cirumoghel had been completely
unaware of this fact and needed to be reminded of it. The statement held a
certain arrogance to it because these elite Nevrenachtur assassins believed
themselves to be untouchable. No one killed them. Rather, they did the
killing. Yet here Ephram lay, evidence to the contrary, a man that they
both knew had successfully murdered others of their order in the past. The
towering female with raven black hair stepped forward cleaning her nails
with a bone knife.
   "It seems a shame that we don't play with him first before setting out
for the holy city," Mara Kano said.
   Ephram regarded Mara Kano with hatred. She wore similar dress as her
companion, covered from foot to shoulder in blue steel armor banded with
black lines across the chest and around the waist and arms. From her
neckline depended a terrible shawl made of mist or possibly smoke. Ephram
couldn't be certain. This thing swirled and churned with ghosts and
spirits. The implications of its existence frightened him. He believed that
spirits of the dead found peace in the afterlife; not enslaved to the shawl
of a ravenous murderer devoted to the worship of the god of secrets.
   Ephram blinked to make sure he hadn't imagined them...faces and hands
that reached and grasped at the ground and floated through the air on their
own volition. At times multiple tentacles of luminescent smoke flowed
together to form one huge appendage that billowed forth in a shape that
mocked that of a cape. There were mouths there in that smoke. They opened
and closed by the hundreds. Ephram realized that they were shrieking.
   Like her male counterpart, Mara Kano wore knee-high black leather boots
over the armor. Dragon spurs with sharpened tines adorned her heels. She
carried an obsidian cadel in one hand, a feat impossible for a man of
normal strength. But to Mara Kano, she hefted it as easily as he might hold
a paperweight. Ephram knew the huge axe weighed in excess of 200-pounds,
the shaft fashioned from dragon bone, the head from magic reinforced rock
split so fine on the edge that it could cut through anything. Just like
Cirumoghel, Mara Kano's skin gleamed a solid black in the early morning
haze that brushed the world in watercolor hue. It bespoke of the void
between stars where nothing but cold and emptiness awaited. Her eyes blazed
as scarlet coals that floated in a sea the color of urine.
   "Good job, mistress," the dragon stated from the far side of the
courtyard.
   "Thank you Nasharwyn," Mara Kano said.
   Ephram thought of his own silver dragon, who consented to be his mount
but only after Ephram had earned the privilege. Strong and proud,
Xaquerysilver had never called him "master" and never would. So this
dragon...this Nasharwyn...was nothing but a sycophant and bootlicker. Other
far older dragons would never cower before men, even giants like these, for
as they aged they became more and more like gods unto themselves. Ephram
had never killed a truly ancient dragon and doubted that it could be
done. They were virtually immune to everything and possessed such powerful
magic, that their spells could destroy him despite his divine
blessings. Still in draconic form, Nasharwyn lowered her head before Mara
Kano and Cirumoghel as a sign of respect. "Kahket will be most pleased with
your progress. I'm sure the rewards for this one shall be immense and
gratifying."
   "The reward is mine and mine alone," a familiar voice replied.
   Ephram managed to turn his eyes just enough to see Tomoluk stride forth
from the barn, his skin the color of white granite. In one hand he carried
his huge axe. In the other, he hoisted the limp body of Salina. The elvish
Valkyrie's head hung at odd angles and he knew Tomoluk had snapped her
neck. Tomoluk flipped the body into the air and then clove it, armor and
flesh, in two with one swing of his incredibly sharp ask. The two pieces
landed in the snow with a spray of blood and innards.
   Then Tomoluk laughed and the giants joined him. "Nothing like a bit of
death to start the morning right," the minotaur said. He stood shoulder to
shoulder with the Nevrenachtur lords, and he didn't look afraid at all.
   "Well met, Tomoluk!" Cirumoghel yelled. "Kahket told us you'd giftwrap
this piece of shit for us."
   "There's more inside," Tomoluk said. Then he peered beyond the giants
and the dragon at the ruin of the keep. "At least there were. Very
efficient, but I have to say, I don't need help from Kahket. I had all of
this handled myself."
   "So you say," Cirumoghel said, tightening his grip on the cadel. "We
will share in this reward."
   Tomoluk spat on the ground. "Then we have an impasse. That is, until I
kill you. Gentleman, lady, you can't defeat me for I am living stone."
   "We'll see about that," Mara Kano said through clenched teeth. She
launched herself at Tomoluk, and the minotaur didn't even raise his weapon
to defend himself. Instead, he took the cadel full force in the chest and
the reverberation of the blow threw her weapon to one side. Then he bitch
slapped her with such strength across the face that she flew into a wall
six feet to Tomoluk's right side and landed next to a dozen barrels stacked
against the barn.
   She gnashed her teeth and her eyes flared wild, but Cirumoghel held up
his hand to tell her to stop.
   "You have a point, Tomoluk," the death giant said. "We acquiesce that
you get the reward from Kahket. However, if we prove ourselves useful to
you between here and the holy city of Zanda, then you agree to give us
something of your winnings? Yes?"
   Tomoluk put hand to chin and played with his goatee. "Perhaps—" he
started to say, when another familiar voice spoke out from the top of the
wall overlooking the courtyard.
   "Don't I have a say in this?" Hunter called out from his perch on the
parapet. "Eph, are you all right?"
   "For now," Ephram called out. "I could use some help."
   "I give you all one choice," Hunter said, standing up from a
crouch. "Let Ephram go right now, and I'll let you keep your worthless
lives."
   "Kill him and I'll split the bounty three ways!" Tomoluk screamed.
   But by the time he finished that sentence, Hunter had vanished.


				   *****

Chapter Thirty-Eight is now available to read at
http://slckismet.blogspot.com/p/discussion-board-for.html under the label
"The Orb of Winter" if you care to read ahead.

Are there any artists out there willing to draw some pics for my story? If
so, please email me.  There is an "Orb of Winter" map now in both the NEWS
section of my website and in the FORUMS of my website.

If you go to my website directly from this posting, you will want to begin
with "CHAPTER THIRTEEN" in the forums.