Demon Lord VI - Son of Chaos (9 page)

Drevarin
looked a trifle embarrassed and waved a hand. “Think nothing of it,
My Lady.”

“
Mirra.”

“
I am Drevarin. A pleasure to meet you.”

Bane guided
her to the couch as the rest of the group approached, Mithran at
the forefront. He bowed to Drevarin and was introduced before he
clasped Bane’s shoulder in his usual manner, clearly relieved to
find his son in one piece. Drevarin looked astonished when he
learnt that Mithran was Bane’s father, and cast the tar’merin a
measuring glance. Grem approached next, sending Bane a warm smile
before he joined Mithran at a nearby table. Sarrin led her group
forward, and they all sank down behind Ethra, who knelt once more
at Bane’s feet. Sarrin clasped her hands and bowed her head, first
to Bane, then to Drevarin.

“
I thank the light for your release and recovery,
Lord.”

“
As do I, Sarrin. The light came in the form of Lord Drevarin
here.”

Sarrin bowed
to Drevarin again, and the rest of the group did the same with
well-practiced proficiency.

Drevarin
smiled. “A cultured people, I see.

“
Their god was killed and their domain destroyed.”

“
Sad indeed. It seems to happen all too often. They are welcome
in my domain.”

“
Thank you, Lord Drevarin,” Sarrin said. “You are most
generous.”

Bane’s eyes
flicked to Nikira, who stood behind the group. She looked ill at
ease in a sparkling turquois dress that left her shoulders bare and
fell in graceful folds to her ankles.

“
And here is someone with absolutely no culture at all.” He
gestured, and her knees buckled, forcing her to fall onto them with
a gasp. “Now you look like a trollop.”

Ethra giggled,
and Sarrin prodded her.

“
I’m sorry,” Nikira said. “It’s the only dress I
have.”

“
Then make a more suitable one. White, from plain cloth, long
sleeved and long skirted. You may employ a rope belt, if you
wish.”

“
Yes, sir.”

“
You will refer to me as ‘Lord’.”

“
Yes, Lord.”

“
Good, now show these people to as many comfortable lodgings as
they desire, and give them whatever they wish.”

“
No!” Ethra wailed. “I want to stay with you.”

He shook his
head. “Not right now. When you have settled into your new rooms,
you may return.”

The girl
pouted, but allowed Sarrin to take her hand and tug her away.
Nikira led them out, and Drevarin cast Bane a smile, his eyes
sparkling.

“
That one has designs on you.”

Bane smiled.
“One of the drawbacks of being mortal, it seems.”

“
Drawbacks? I have walked amongst my people as one of them, and
had many delightful encounters with beautiful women. For me, the
only drawback is that I cannot tell them who I am, and am treated
as any other man. That makes it interesting, but sometimes trying
as well. You have the best of both worlds.”

Bane drained
his glass and leant forward to refill it. “You did not love any of
them?”

“
I love all my people, and they were dearer to me than
most.”

“
You love them as a god, whereas I am human. Therefore, I love
as a man does.” Bane cast Mirra a smile.

Drevarin
nodded. “Of course, as it should be. I have no experience with your
kind.”

They talked
for hours and drained many bottles of wine, which a servant brought
while Nikira was employed with making herself a new dress. Bane
liked Drevarin, and a strong bond had already formed between them,
forged partly by his gratitude for his rescue, which had stripped
away several layers of protective aloofness, and partly by the
young light god’s jovial nature and lack of fear. Mirra curled up
beside Bane and fell asleep while the two men talked. Bane became
pleasantly drunk before he stretched out beside her and closed his
eyes, more relaxed than he had been for many months.

Chapter Four

Demon
Hound

Enyo frowned
when Nikira entered the coms room, his eyes raking her wrinkled
white dress.

She glared at
him. “God’s orders. Report.”

“
I’ve been recording their conversation, but the language
they’re speaking is utterly alien, and the linguistics technicians
say that they have no way of translating it. No reference words,
apparently.”

“
Let me hear it.”

Enyo pressed a
key on his console, and Bane’s voice came from the speakers,
followed soon after by Drevarin’s.

Nikira cocked
her head, puzzled. “They’re speaking two different languages.”

“
That’s what the lingtechs said.”

“
Amazing. What are they doing now?”

Enyo activated
a vidscreen, which showed the two men sprawled on their couches,
their eyes closed. Mirra nestled in the crook of Bane’s arm, her
head pillowed on his shoulder. “Sleeping, by the looks of it.”

Nikira sat
down and ran a hand through her hair.

Enyo sat
opposite, looking concerned. “What happened in there,
Commander?”

“
He let me live, in return for control of Retribution. For now,
anyway.”

“
What does he want with the ship?”

She shook her
head. “I don’t know. He wants us to take him somewhere, but he
didn’t say where, or why. All we know is what he told us
earlier.”

“
What do you want me to do?”

“
Keep recording everything they say. Put it on a databar, and
I’ll take it close to him, perhaps that’ll translate it. For as
long as they stay on the ship, we keep studying them. I hope
Drevarin stays, I feel better when he’s around.”

Enyo nodded.
“I can’t get over the fact that he looks so... normal. I always
thought a creator would be made of light or something.”

“
I reckon he can look like anything he wants. The tar’merin
probably can too.”

Enyo grunted
and turned to gaze at the screen. “Who would have thought that gods
need to sleep?”

***

Bane woke with
a splitting headache, and his mouth tasted like something had
crawled into it and died. Grimacing, he sat up and swung his legs
off the couch, rubbing his brow. Drevarin lounged on his couch,
sipping ambrosia, and smiled at him.

“
Sore head?”

Bane nodded
and winced. “I had almost forgotten the penalty for indulging in
too much wine.”

Drevarin rose
and approached to lay a hand on Bane’s shoulder. The headache
vanished, and Bane sighed and summoned his own cup as Drevarin
returned to his couch. The ambrosia, he discovered, had the
peculiar and most welcome ability to banish the foul taste from his
mouth after one sip, leaving a clean, minty taste. Bane glanced
down at Mirra as she yawned and stretched, casting him a sleepy
smile. He bent to kiss her cheek, then looked around at the empty
dining room with a frown.

“
Nikira!”

After about a
minute, the commander ran in and knelt before him, performing the
prostration he required of her. “I’m unworthy to serve you,” she
intoned in a dull voice.

“
Yes, you are.”

She hesitated.
“May I lick the dirt from your shoes?” The words clearly almost
choked her.

“
No.” Bane studied her. “Your garb pleases me, but your lack of
respect does not.”

“
But I did as you asked.”

“
I did not ask, I ordered, and you forgot my title.”

“
Sorry, Lord.”

Bane snorted.
“Do not do it again, or I shall have to punish you. How goes our
journey?”

“
It’ll take another day to reach those
co-ordinates.”

“
Is the ship travelling as fast as it can?”

“
Yes, Lord.”

“
Good.” He regarded her for several moments, but she kept her
eyes on the floor. “You will show me everything on this ship, and
explain what it can do, starting with the most
important.”

“
Yes, Lord.”

Bane stood up,
raising a brow at Drevarin, who smiled and rose. When he held out
his hand to Mirra, however, she shook her head. “I want breakfast.
I’ll find Mithran and Grem and eat with them if you’re not
hungry.”

Bane hid his
disappointment and indicated that Nikira should provide a guide for
his wife. She summoned a hovering crewman to show Mirra to
Mithran’s room, and then led them down a long corridor and into a
tiny grey room with no other doors leading off it, which puzzled
Bane. As he was about to ask her why they were in what appeared to
be an empty closet, she touched a button on a lighted panel by the
doors, which slid shut. Bane tensed as the room moved upwards
rapidly, then the doors opened. They entered a dim room with many
flashing tables and square glowing boxes.

Bane glanced
back at the tiny room, intrigued by the cleverness of it and glad
he had not made himself appear foolish by asking about its purpose.
Drevarin caught his eye and smiled, shrugging to show that he too
had been mystified at first. Five men jumped up from their seats in
front of the glowing squares and saluted as Nikira entered. She
motioned to them, making most of them sit down again, although they
could not tear their eyes from Bane and Drevarin.

“
This is the bridge, Lord,” Nikira explained. “It controls the
ship’s navigation and movement.”

Bane wandered
over to a table, and the man who sat at it rose and moved away,
glancing at Nikira. The Demon Lord studied the lighted panels and
peered into the glowing screen. Drevarin went to another and
examined it, running his hand over the board. The room tilted, and
Bane grabbed the console, glancing around in alarm. Nikira hurried
to the board and touched it, and the room became level once more.
Drevarin looked at Bane and chuckled. The Demon Lord smiled and
turned to Nikira, hardening his expression.

“
How do you see outside?”

Nikira touched
the board again, and a screen the size of a horizontal door on one
wall filled with a bright image of seething blueness shot with
bursts of fire.

Bane nodded.
“Is that what you used to see me when I walked into your trap?”

“
No. We have a special room for observing... things that
contain dark power.”

“
Show me.”

Nikira led
them back into the tiny room, which moved downwards. When the doors
opened, they stepped out into another room full of glowing squares
and flashing boards. Three men glanced around as Nikira entered.
Their expressions became wary when they spotted Bane, and awed when
Drevarin wandered in behind him.

“
This is the observation room,” Nikira explained. “This is
where we spot and track dra’voren.”

“
Or tar’merin,” Bane muttered.

“
Anything that contains the dark power, we can detect with our
scanners.”

“
Show me.”

Nikira glanced
at one of the men, who shook his head. “There’s nothing out there
right now.”

Bane was a
little disappointed, but shrugged and followed Nikira back into the
little room, where he murmured, “Neglect to use my title once more,
and I will ensure that you have no choice in the matter.”

She gulped.
“Sorry, Lord.”

***

The tour
lasted most of the day, and included the hold containing the
refugees. Most of them sank to their knees and bowed their heads
when Bane entered it, although they looked wary and some moved
away, their expressions fearful. Nikira shot Bane a startled
glance, which he met with hard eyes.

“
A common reaction from ignorant peasants,” he assured
her.

Nikira looked
away, wondering why she was shocked by the refugees’ reaction,
which was not unexpected, as he pointed out. Perhaps because she
had been under the impression that these people had been so
brainwashed before, but now she realised that only Bane’s group of
friends and kindred had shown him any affection or respect. The
refugees turned to Drevarin with low, respectful cries of joy and
knelt to him with adoring smiles. Drevarin looked a little
embarrassed, shooting Bane a rueful glance. After Bane had
explained where the refugees had come from, Nikira took them back
to the dining hall, where Mirra waited with Mithran, Grem and
Artan’s group.

***

The next day,
Retribution arrived in the dusty valley nestled between the ridges
of beige stone. Nikira received the message while she was donning
the hated white dress, and, after eating a frugal breakfast, she
went down to the dining room that the two gods had chosen to make
their home. They were asleep, sprawled on their couches. Bane had
shed his cloak, tunic and boots. Mirra slept beside him, her arm
flung across his chest. Nikira hesitated, unsure of whether she
should wake them. Bane’s eyes flicked open, and he sat up in a
lithe movement, making her avert her eyes as his gaze swept over
her.

“
You dare to wake me?”

“
I’m sorry, Lord, I -”

“
You will perform your prostration before you address
me.”

Nikira sank
down and pressed her brow to the carpet in the primitive,
humiliating ritual, which she guessed was its sole purpose. After
she had intoned the requisite words and asked for the pleasure of
cleaning his boots with her tongue, he regarded her for several
moments. Mirra squirmed closer to her husband and yawned, her arms
sliding around his waist.