Zenak Page 8

  “How quaint,” Mara remarked sarcastically, “I always knew there was a reason why I never left Balbania. Now I know.” She looked at the old, brightly painted wooden hotel with a revulsion that marked the countenances of the upper class ninety-five percent of the time.

  Vokar, however, cared not and said, “We take what we get.”

  Then they got off their marks walked up onto the creaky porch and went to the desk in the lobby. No one was there and Vokar impatiently rang the bell.

  “All right, all right, I’m coming,” the proprietor said as he came through a side door into the small but nicely fur­nished lobby. “It seems as if everyone is in a hurry”

  “We are tired and we are hungry,” Vokar said.

  “Well, both problems can be cured right here in ole Bromley’s place,” said the proprietor. The owner was about sixty-five. He was a medium-sized man and was as bald as a stone. His face gave any person that saw him a pleasant, warm feeling and the twinkle in his eyes showed that he was a good and kindhearted man.

  “I’m the queen—” Mara started, but Vokar told her to be quiet.

  “I’m sure that we will rest well in this hotel, ole Bromley. You are Bromley are you not?” Vokar asked.

  “That I am. And who might you be?” answered Bromley.

  “I am a magician and this is my partner,” Vokar said.

  “A magician, eh. Well, are you going to put on any tricks in our small town?” asked Bromley.

  “No, I’m afraid not, we are just looking for a night’s rest before we go to Gaston,” Vokar said.

  “Too bad, we never seem to get any outside entertainment in Magay. Well, how many rooms do you want, one or two?” Bromley asked.

  “Two,” Vokar answered.

  “Two!” exclaimed Mara. “What do you mean two?”

  “I want two rooms. It is better that way,” said Vokar to Mara.

  “Well, I want one,” Mara said stubbornly.

  “We will get two rooms. You may put them next to each other if you wish,” Vokar said to Bromley.

  “No!” Mara yelled and she grabbed Bromley’s hand be­fore he could reach under the counter and get the keys. Brom­ley looked at the both of them rather uncomfortably.

  “We will have separate rooms,” Vokar said. Then he stiffened a little and Mara quickly let go of Bromley’s hand and clasped her stomach in pain. Bromley looked on fearfully.

  Mara looked up at Vokar tearfully and said, “Yes, we will have separate rooms.”

  Bromley quickly took out two keys, handed them to Vokar, and said, “Up the stairs one flight, the first two rooms on the left.”

  “Thank you,” Vokar said. “Let’s go,” he said to Mara and she followed him to the rooms.

  At the door to her room she meekly said to Vokar, “I’m sorry I just couldn’t be apart from you.”

  “You learn quickly, and so I forgive you. Now get ready to go and eat,” Vokar said.

  “Yes, but before I do, let me ask you something?” Mara asked.

  “What is it?” Vokar asked.

  “Why didn’t you want the proprietor to know our true identity?”

  “Because Zenak may not be killed by the trees and the less anyone knows about us the less chance we have of being caught before I can acquire all my powers. Now enough of this chit-chat let’s go eat.”

  “Oh, of course. I’ll be ready as soon as I put the child to sleep.”

  “Well, hurry up. I want to concentrate on my powers to­night,” Vokar said. Mara hurried into her room and Vokar went into his room.

  At dinner neither one of them talked much. They were too busy devouring their warm meal, which consisted of spicy mark stew, soft brown bread, and strong warm ale. But when they were done, Mara put forth a proposition that she had mulled over dur­ing dinner.

  “Vokar, last night was the first night in years that my base desires, as you call them, were not fulfilled. I’m positive I cannot go another night without going crazy.”

  “I’m sure that there are plenty of young farmers who could satisfy you,” Vokar remarked just before taking a swig of ale.

  “That’s not what I want,” Mara said with that evil yet sensuous look in her eyes.

  “Oh. What do you want?” asked Vokar.

  “I want, no, I need a demon to ravage me. I want a ghoul from the deepest, vilest part of Varsoula. I want such a being to­night,” Mara demanded.

  Vokar quietly thought a moment and then said, “You realize that this request will drain me for the night?”

  “What will you need your powers for? Besides you will have the entire evening to regain them,” Mara said.

  “Zenak may catch up with us,” Vokar said.

  “How can he? He’s at least five hours behind us if not more and he will probably be destroyed by the trees. And if he isn’t, he will spend a good part of the night fighting them off,” Mara said, trying to be as logical as she could considering the fact that she was crazy with sexual desire.

  “All right, I will consent to such a thing,” Vokar said.

  “Let’s go back to the room now,” Mara said as she jumped from the table.

  “So soon? I haven’t finished my ale,” Vokar said.

  “You can come back down and get more if you want. I want my lover now,” Mara said.

  Vokar shrugged and got up from the table. Then the two of them went back to Mara’s room.

  The prince was sleeping in a makeshift cradle made from a rocking chair and Mara’s cape. Mara went to the rocking chair, picked it up, and placed it in the far corner of the room. The she rushed back to the side of her bed and stripped. She stood bare in all her glorious beauty and awaited, with bated breath, her underworld lover. Vokar had forgotten how beautiful Mara was when she was nude and he contemplated taking the place of the hideous lover that he was to beckon from the depths of Varsoula. But his lust was only to last a moment and he reali­zed he was wasting valuable time by gaping at Mara. So he started the spell. He raised his arms to the sky and fell to his knees calling upon the demons of Varsoula. Each time he call­ed he made Mara more anxious. After about five minutes of vocal beckoning Vokar became silent and he stayed that way for a long time. Mara was getting extremely impatient now and wondered if Vokar had failed. Then all of a sudden a bright yellow light flashed in the room and when it dimmed Mara’s lover appeared.

  When Mara saw the monster she went all limp and fell back onto the bed. Her face was ashen from the shock and fear that the thing produced. The demon was short in height but its arms were long and massive. Its long fingers ended in sharp claws and its skin was scaly and dark green in color. Its face was apishly pushed in and protruding from its mouth, which contained savage-looking teeth, was a long knobby tongue that hung halfway down its body. The demon stared at Mara and licked its lips with the tip of its knobby tongue. It appear­ed to Mara to be grinning. Then the monster turned to Vokar and nodded its massive head in an approving manner. Vokar was amused.

  “Enjoy yourself,” Vokar said as he walked out of the room, quietly shutting the door.

  From his room Vokar could hear Mara’s screams of ecstasy but he blotted them out and opened his window so he could stare into the heavens and receive his power from the cosmos.

  The next morning Vokar went into Mara’s room to get her for the journey. When he opened the door he heard the prince crying and noticed, to his surprise, that the room was totally ransacked. At first glance he could not find Mara, but when he went fur­ther into the room he noticed her huddled in a corner with blood spattered all over her body. The demon was nowhere in sight.

  “Help me,” Mara weakly cried out.

  Vokar walked up to her and laughed out loud. “Well, are you quite satisfied, my dear?” he said. Then he took his platonic lover to the washbasin and proceeded to clean her of the blood she had smeared all over her body.

  “Where is the demon?” Vokar asked.

  Mara stared blankly about the room and replied quietly that the thing had
left by the window at sunrise. Vokar, not caring that much about the fate of the demon, did not pursue the subject any longer but hurried with Mara’s bath.

  When he was finished he remarked to Mara, “Let’s hurry we still have a month’s riding to reach Mea.” He then went to his room to prepare for another day’s ride. Mara also prepared herself and the child, but not as quickly as Vokar for she was still dazed from the night before.

  Chapter 10

  The cold wind whipped Gam’s white mane into a frenzy and chapped his rider’s grim face. The rider, who was Destiny’s choice for a new start, was Zenak and he rode swiftly from Balbania on the same road that Vokar and Mara had traversed the day before. The anger in Zenak was building up like the roar a zyak builds up after it has pounced upon a small-limbed brown-eyed rele and has driven its six-inch fangs into the rele’s neck. [According to our research a rele is a deer-like animal with short horns and a long tail.—S.A.] Zenak’s fierce black eyes flamed and every muscle of his body twitched in the anticipation of wringing Vokar’s head from his weak body. Zenak had been on the chase for about five hours when he noticed a badly mangled body on the ground next to the road. He looked past it and saw what looked like the fresh body parts of humans leading up into the forest. His single-mindedness almost compelled him to continue, but his curiosity won out. When he proceeded, he saw a trail of body parts like a path into the forest. He followed the gruesome trail until he reached a hill. The hill had trees that were filled with torsos, heads, arms, and legs. He shook his head to make sure he wasn’t seeing things, but his eyesight unerringly correct. The trees were littered with pieces of bodies. Zenak saw from the torn clothes that these men were from Balbania.

  He dismounted Gam and walked a little up the hill to look for the body of the commander. Instead, he found the body of the lieutenant of the platoon. He knew when he saw this young man that this was the platoon that was sent out to find Vokar and Mara for the young lieutenant was known through­out Balbania as a great tracker. Zenak’s face contorted with hatred, and he turned back and walked quickly toward Gam so he could pursue Vokar with even more fervor than before. He did not walk far down the hill, however, before he was grabbed from be­hind by a branch. For a split second he was at a loss at what was happening, but his composure was quick to re­turn and he drew his broadsword and began hacking at the branch. To his dismay more branches grabbed him and quickly he was wrapped up by hundreds of branches. He tried to swing his sword but he was totally hampered by the branches that were now slowly squeezing the life out of him. He did not panic; he called Gam to his side. He hoped that the trees were under Vokar’s spell and that they would not attack Gam. When Gam approached, the trees ignored the faithful mark, much to Zenak’s relief. The trees, however, were intent on squeezing their captive.

  “Come a little closer, Gam” Zenak said to his mark. Gam nuzzled up to Zenak.

  “Now, back, back a little, and turn your left side to my hands,” Zenak said. Gam looked at Zenak puzzled but did not move. “Back up, Gam.” Gam backed up. “Left side to me,” Gam did not move again. “Left side to me.” This time Gam moved his left side against Zenak’s body. “Now forward Gam.” Gam responded and Ze­nak found his hands touching his saddlebag. He dropped his sword and with a supreme effort freed one of his hands from the branches and reached into the bag. He was now getting weak from lack of air and he knew that he must make his escape fast.

  He pulled out a piece of flint and began striking it against his chain mail. While he was striking, other branches tried to grab his arm but he kept breaking them off as they grabbed. Because of this the tree began squeezing harder. It had not rained in weeks and Zenak knew that one spark on these dry branches would send the hill up in flames. He kept striking until finally, just before his ribs broke, a spark flew up and caught one of the branches on fire. The tree immediately relaxed its grip and Zenak jumped from the tree and onto Gam. He reached down picked up his sword and spurred Gam down the hill. As he raced down the hill other trees tried to grab him and one even attempted to chase him but Gam was too fast and Zenak’s sword made splinters out of the branches that reached out for him. Finally, they were off the hill and back on the road. Zenak turned around expecting to see a hundred trees chasing him but instead he saw the hill in flames. He lowered his head for a moment in respect for the fallen soldiers who were burning in the trees. Then he gave Gam a firm kick and they were off down the road in search of Vokar, Mara, and his child. Gam waved his head a bit at Zenak in a loving manner as they ran.

  “Yes, Gam, I love you too and I am glad I am here. For a short time I feared that I would not get out of that trap. Obviously Destiny is protecting me so she may guide me to what­ever end awaits me.”

  Zenak rode until the early morning hours. He stopped by a small creek where he and Gam could rest. He lit a fire, ate some dried meat, and drank water from the stream. As an unsaddled Gam stood quietly by the fire, feeding on grass, Zenak leaned against a tree holding his broadsword next to him ready to use in an instant. He dozed through the rest of the night. Zenak had learned through many years of battles to sleep and yet be alert to dangers that might harm him. He knew a sound sleep was not an option, since any of the many violent denizens of the forest could have attacked in the night. But to his relief the night passed uneventfully. At first light Zenak and Gam got back on the road and rode to Magay. As he rode into the town his ears were perked up by the cries of agony and fright. Zenak galloped toward the cries and upon seeing from where the cries were coming stared, appalled, at such a sight. He saw no fewer than a dozen women sprawled on the street. Their bodies were mutilated and the looks on their faces bespoke of a fear no man or woman had ever encountered. Further up the mud­died street some of the women were still alive. It was from them that the cries of agony came. One of the women rocked back and forth on her haunches and every so often scratched out at the air while she screamed at some unseen danger. Another lay in the mud, her legs spread wide, each leg ripped and mauled. Three more women huddled together and the screams that came from them would make a banshee cringe. No men were to be seen and no one else save for the poor souls mentioned as seen on the street. Zenak rode up to the three huddled women and reached down to touch them. But instead of accepting the comfort that he was offering the women looked up at him, screamed, and ran in the other direction into a nearby store.

  “What has happened here?” Zenak asked. He continued up the street until he came to the hotel that his enemy and family had vacated earlier. He decided that the hotel was a good place as any to start his investigation of what happened in the town. He got off Gam and strode inside. The lobby was a shambles—chairs were splintered and the tables were lying upside down. Over the counter of the wooden desk lay Bromley. He held a sword in his hand. His wide, glassy eyes told the story of the great fear that had traversed his soul before having his heart ripped from his body. On the floor in the tavern two women lay. They were not dead yet but death would have been a welcome favor to these wretched people lying in their own blood and stink. One of the women was moving slightly and Zenak rushed over to see what he could do for her. Her face lighted up a little when she saw a human being was attempting to help her. She tried to speak to her king but only an inaudible whisper came from her bloodied mouth. Zenak bent over and lifted her in his arms. The strength of his body seemed to flow into hers and she spoke a little loud­er. Zenak lowered his head so he could hear her better.

  “A demon, a monster from Varsoula, it was terrible, and no one could escape. The men tried to fight but the monster devoured them. Help me,” she said. This was her last communication in this world for the grim reaper then passed over and harvested an­other soul.

  Zenak set her body back on the ground. He then pulled his broadsword out for he now knew that he was not dealing with an ordinary occurrence and thus he was ready to fight swiftly. He was determined not to leave this town until he had captured the demon. He could have left the town and pursued his prim
ary goal, but honor did not reside greater in any man than it did in Zenak. The town needed to be avenged. Zenak started his search in the basement of the hotel. Every piece of furniture that was out of place was noted by his careful eye. Every rustle or move­ment was also noted and described in his mind as he searched through the hotel looking for a clue to where the monster might be. While he was searching in the back of the hotel, a piercing scream of a young girl came from the upper part of the hotel. Zenak rushed for the steps that led upstairs, his sword in hand, his grasp white from holding the sword so tight. He searched the first three floors feverishly, looking into every room, but he could not find the source of the scream. Then he heard the cry again. The cry was one of dire pain and agony and it came from the fourth floor of the hotel. The thought that the scream may be coming from the lips of his lovely Mara caused Zenak to run even faster to the aid of the woman who was in trouble. He dashed down the musky, dark hallway toward the sounds of moans mingled with the sounds of a low grumbling, growling noise. Upon reaching the door Zenak kicked it with such force that he sent it flying in pieces all over the room.

  A gasp of surprise and disgust came from Zenak as he step­ped inside and saw what was happening. Zenak had been a fighting man since he was fourteen and he had seen many battles and had had many encounters with the demons of Varsoula but this was the most disgustingly vile sight that had ever crossed his vision.

  The room was filled with women, young and old. Many of them were dead and their bloody mangled bodies were strewn all about the room. The ones who were alive were just barely that and they were lying in the stench and blood of their desecra­ted dead sisters. The air of the room hung heavy and all was quiet now that Zenak had entered, except for the heavy breathing com­ing from the center of the room. The breathing came from the demon and beneath it lay a young girl of about twelve. She was crying and groaning in pain and tears mingled with the blood that drip­ped from her torn face. Zenak himself was almost moved to tears when she turned her head to him with a pleading look in her eyes, but he would not allow himself tears and he staunchly stood in the doorway staring intently at the demon. The demon had stopped what he was doing and was also staring, with his teeth bared, at Zenak. Then Zenak lunged at the demon with his broadsword poised for death. The demon was surprisingly fast and it jumped agilely out of the way of the first slice from Zenak’s heavy sword. Zenak, because of the power behind his sword thrust was thrown a little off balance, but he regained his posture quickly and turned to face the demon again. The two adversaries began circling each other keeping their faces toward one an­other. Every so often Zenak’s sword would dart out at the demon only to strike air as the dancing demon nimbly kept the sword from striking him. Tiring of this toying the impatient Zenak rushed his netherworld opponent for a second time. This time the demon was not as fast and was struck in the neck by Zenak’s sword. The sword, however, bounced harmless­ly off of the hard scaly skin even though the force behind it would have been enough to go through two men. Zenak was appalled, never before had anything been so completely unhurt by his sword. Even granite rocks could be chipped by his great sword. Zenak then quickly thrust the point into the demon’s torso only to find it just as impenetrable as the monster’s neck had been. Zenak was now totally shocked and stepped back to try and figure out what to do next. The demon was equally shocked, for he had feared this man with this powerful sword.