"The Brand of Submission"
May. 23rd, 2022 09:50 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dochermes"The Brand of Submission"
8/3/-8/4/2000
I.
The storm had been building all day. A week of hot, stifling weather had everyone in the city on edge, and as a wave of cooler air swept down from Canada across the state, violent thunderstrorms knocked down power lines and blocked roads with fallen trees. As the storm hit Manhattan, Jeremy Bane stood in the conference room of the headquarters building and watched lightning flash. He saw the dense rain smash down on East 38th Street.
"The city could use a good scrubbing," said a voice behind him.
Bane half turned to look over his shoulder at his team of Tel Shai knights. It was Argent who had spoken, a brash Chujiran warrior whose real name was Sheng Mo-Yuan. "It's too bad we can't pour a couple hundred gallons of detergents on the streets as well," added Sheng.
Bane's invariably grim manner eased a little. He was a tall, lean man in his early forties, dressed as always all in black. His pale grey eyes ranged over his team seated at the long oak table. Argent sat next to Sable Reilly. Opposite her was Levon Bingham, the young black man who had claimed the talisman Cat's-Claw. Next to him, blowing a pink bubble of gum, was a lovely little blonde named Ashley Whitaker, the Unicorn. In contrast to Bane, she was dressed in white jeans and a white long-sleeved pullover.
The four members at the table had notebooks and pens and scraps of paper in front of them, looking for all the world like college students. Their training as KDF members under Bane's leadership mostly involved active practice of martial arts, piloting the CORBYs, learning how to pick locks and escape from bonds, diving from heights and scaling sheer walls. But there was also a huge amount of Midnight War history and lore to be learned, and some book study was inevitable.
Unicorn popped her bubble, sucked the gum back in and put down her pen. "My mom already told me a lot of this stuff. It's so tangled and complicated, with the different Races of Trolls and Snake men and Darthim and forty different adjacent realms with their own feuds and alliances. Ick. It's worse than World History back in high school."
Bane turned those pale grey eyes on the Unicorn and his voice was low."The difference is that these Snake men and Trolls and Darthim will be trying to kill you. If you know their agendas and weaknesses, there's a chance you might survive."
Thunder crashed so close at hand that they all gave a start and then smiled sheepishly. Sable Reilly closed her notebook. "I love a good thunderstorm," she said. "Captain, isn't Megan supposed to be back by now?"
"She last reported in an hour ago that she was on her way. It's not like her to be late." Bane headed over to the table. "I should page her."
"Come to think of it, where's Josef?" Sable added. "He had breakfast this morning and that's the last I saw of him."
"He's on a personal leave day. His car is giving him trouble and he's looking for a new one." Bane turned back to the high narrow windows looking out on the rain. "He didn't pick the best day to go browsing at car dealerships."
Ashley Whitaker jumped up and stretched, then brushed her platinum hair back. "We've had four hours of why the Melgarin and the Gelydrim hate each other. I vote we do something exciting-" As she spoke, the lights went out. "Well, there you go," she said, "like this." The conference room was lit only by the dim light from the windows.
"Jeremy?" asked Sable, "don't we have our own generator?"
"We do. And it should have kicked in automatically," he snapped. "This is not just the storm. Everyone on your feet."
The Dire Wolf had stepped over to a cabinet by the door and took out a stand-up metal lantern two feet high. He clicked it on and white light poured out. "Only gralic force could dampen our Trom generator. Combat status! Ashley, where's your horn?"
"Right here," she answered, holding up the leather case holding her talisman. "It's never out of reach."
Red light glimmered in the air over the conference table, a swirling nimbus of cloudy energy. The five Tel Shai knights watched as the image of a face took form, larger than life size, distorted as if seen through unsteady water. The face was that of a man with a shaven head and a mustache that came down either side of his mouth to his chin. Thick eyebrows rose up at a sharp angle over eyes with bright red irises. It was a brutal, merciless face, vaguely Asian, the face of a warlord.
"Whoa," squeaked Unicorn. "This is something new."
The face in the red cloud fastened its attention on Bane. "You do not know me," came a voice from a distance. "Yet you are the one I have sought, the Dire Wolf, heir to Kenneth Dred."
"You look like a native of Ashfahan to me," Bane answered.
"Ah, very good. Yes. I am Temur Kasten, sorceror of the court of the Dread Zhengdu himself. Our king has forbidden us to venture to your world but I have a need which must be met."
The Dire Wolf crossed a few steps over toward the table, seeing if the face would turn to follow him. It did. The image could see into the room. "So, it was you who knocked out our electricity? Just to get our attention."
"Exactly," said the image of Temur Kasten. "Listen closely, these are my words. I have a task for you, to retrieve a treasure of great importance, from a realm of peril. Only warriors like your knights of Tel Shai may hope to succeed. You must lead your team to Okali and fetch the Brand of Submission."
Bane's voice remained steady. "And why MUST we do this?"
The image shifted and reformed. It solidified again to show a dungeon of stone blocks, lit by a single torch. Chained by her wrists, sitting on loose straw, was a young woman with tousled black hair and inquisitive features. She was wearing only a thin cotton shift and had her eyes closed.
"Megan!" Unicorn yelped, and the others reacted with angry murmurs.
"You have captured one of my knights?" asked Bane in icy tones.
"She has not been harmed nor mistreated," said the voice of Temur Kasten as his face began to rematerialize. "I know I have made an enemy of you by doing this, but a great prize requires great risk."
Bane made no threats. He merely said, "Go on."
"Hear me, Dire Wolf. I have no wish to harm this child, but if you do not cooperate, then I must turn her over to the people-skinners. She is but a lever to force you to act. You have Eldar travel crystals. Go to Okali, fetch the Brand of Submission from the Temple of Margoth and your Trom Girl will be returned. We need never meet again."
Still with a calm steady voice, Bane said, "How can we contact you?"
"You will hear from me at the first light of dawn tomorrow. Your fortress will again dim and we will speak." The red cloud boiled and dissipated, the image faded and the overhead fluorescent lights came back on.
Argent was openly furious. "How do we know that was really our Megan? What if it's a trick?"
"I don't think so," Bane answered. "Sable?"
Sable Lauren Reilly considered for a second. Her power was gralic enhancement of the senses, she could see on a microscopic level and her hearing and sense of smell also extended beyond what science could explain. "Every detail was accurate, down to the pores of her skin. I see no reason to doubt that that was Megan."
"And your opinion about Temur Kasten?"
"I was dealing with an image, but even so... his voice was steady, with no subvocal tremors to indicate uncertainy. His pupils expanded at the right times. The muscles in his face were in consistent tension. I believe he was telling us the truth, captain."
"That's what I was thinking," Bane agreed. "Sheng, contact Josef and have him report here now. I know you are all thinking that we do not negotiate with kidnapers or terrorists, and that is our policy. But in this case, I have a plan. Temur Kasten is in for a rude awakening."
"I thought so!" Unicorn said. "When do you ever NOT have a plan?"
II.
A flare of clear blue light swirled silently, and when it faded, three men had appeared from nowhere. They stood with weapons ready, looking around warily at their new surroundings. Sheng Mo-Yuan lowered his dart gun and grinned. "This place is gorgeous, captain. Usually we end up in some hellhole."
Okali was grassland, a dry prairie with a row of dim bluish mountains far to the west. The air smelled clean and fresh in a way only a pre-industrial realm could. Overhead a crow circled. Bane holstered his own weapon. "It's okay," he said grudgingly. "Unspoiled. Over in that direction is a forest where we'll be heading. I'll fill you guys in as we march." He took off at a brisk clip.
Less than half an hour ago, Josef Jubilec had rushed into the conference room in response to the summons. Now he was in the adjacent realm, walking behind him captain. The Blind Archer wore a Y-shaped leather quiver across his back which held eighteen shafts. He had strung his handcrafted bow before they had left and he carried it at the ready. Beside him, Argent gazed at the scenery as they hiked. Both men had put on field suits identical to the one Bane wore. Black boots, pants and a waist-length jacket with its inner layer of Trom armor, the suits were loaded with weapons and gadgets. Sheng kept his visored helmet clipped to his back, and Josef did not wear one because it interefered with his ability.
"First, technology will not function well in this realm. Our dart guns sometimes work and sometimes don't, but gunpowder never does. Even flashlights are useless here. It's Jordyn's way of protecting this realm," Bane said. He picked up speed. All three were in excellent condition and could move at a near run for hours without tiring. "The wildlife here is interesting," he continued. "Okali is where the Darthim conducted their experiments in mutating animals. Ashley's unicorn horn came from here originally. There are manticores, griffins, eight foot carniverous birds and true Dire Wolves the size of bears."
"That's wild," laughed Sheng. "National Geographic should send a film crew here."
"Now, there are two groups of intelligent natives," Bane said. "The Skullhunters are Human enough, but the Kobalim, well... they are talking gorillas."
"Oh, come on!" Argent scoffed. "You can't be serious."
"We're bound to meet some," said Bane. "See how you feel then."
Josef Jubilec was gazing at the horizon with intense blue eyes. The oldest member of the new team, he was still under thirty but a hard life had weathered his face. He said, "I'm surprised we're co-operating with this warlock, Jeremy. Normally we refuse to act under duress."
"You're right. Megan knows that, we all do. But in this particular case, I have a plan. Those foothills up ahead are where the Kobalim have their villages. The Temple of Margoth must be there, but I don't know exactly where." He started to slow his pace. They were nearing the edge of the forest, and low bushes were beginning to be more common. A hundred yards to their right, grazing on the lush damp grass was a group of a dozen small animals.
From a distance they looked like white ponies, foot feet at the shoulder and too small to carry a rider. Their legs resembled those of a hart, with cloven hooves and their lionlike tails had a tuft to fur at the end. Most striking, of course, were the horns. Just above the wideset eyes was a slim ivory spiral which extended from one foot to two feet, depending on the individual.
"Unicorns," breathed Josef. "My God, real live unicorns."
"Ashley should see this," Sheng whispered. "I wonder if she's ever been here."
Bane gestured for silence and pointed past the unicorns. Stalking stealthily from the trees was a large predator. A lion with the head of a baboon, the great beast was six feet long, with a reddish coat and tawny mane. It had apelike front paws but leonine hind legs. The brute was circling closer to the unicorns, picking one for the attack.
Josef had notched a razor-edged arrow to his bowstring, but Bane laid a restraining hand on his arm. "We have to get going," he said.
"But it's going to eat one of them!" Josef objected.
"That's nature. The manticore has a right to exist, too." Bane started off sprinting and Josef reluctantly returned the arrow to its place and followed.
Half an hour later, they had passed through a strip of woods and spotted the village of Kobalim. Huts of roughly hewn logs and branches, packed with dried mud, made up most of the settlement. Fires burned in stone pits between the huts, and there was a raised platform in the central area bearing a stone image of a bird with outstretched wings...some sort of idol or totem. Fruit and nuts were piled in front of the statue as offerings.
And there, lumbering about their business with their knuckles touching the earth as they walked, were the Kobalim. Bane had seen them before, but Josef and Sheng stared with disbelief.
The Speaking Apes of Okali at first seemed to be just mountain gorillas, with hair and skin ranging from tan to black in various combinations. After a minute's observation, though, it was clear they had a more Human face and hip structure than gorillas, and no sagittal crest. They seemed to average a few inches under six feet tall and would weigh on average a bit under four hundred pounds.
They were not wearing any clothing at all, but one or two did have a basket strapped over one shoulder with a strap of woven grass and a few were carrying hardened clay pitchers or bowls. The Kobalim could be heard barking out distinct words, not more than three or four words in a row but perfectly intelligible.
Argent shook his head. "If I ever say I have seen everything, remind me of this moment." He turned to Bane. "Are we going to introduce ourselves?"
"Not yet," the Dire Wolf answered. "These boys are unpredictable. Let's see what kind of mood they're in."
An hour passed as they observed, getting to recognize individual Kobalim and identifying their activities. He saw two of the Apes picked up large clay jugs and head out of the village. "Water jugs," Bane said and took off at a run in a diferent direction. As Argent and the Blind Archer followed, he raced through the woods and stopped behind a cluster of trees close to a stream. Clear cold water ran down over rounded rocks to form a pool. Seconds later, his teammates joined him. He gestured for silence. The two Kobalim trudged up a path not fifty feet away. The Speaking Apes put down their jugs, lowered themselves onto a rock ledge and splashed their feet contentedly. One of them yawned, showing wicked yellow fangs.
Bane caught Josef's eye and made a punching gesture. The Blind Archer drew a black silk band up over his eyes, notched an arrow and let fly. The hard rubber knob smacked right on the temple of the nearest Kobal, knocking him over on his side. Before the second one could react, a dart from Bane's silent airgun jabbed deep into the side of his neck. The Ape grunted and slapped at it, then sagged to the ground.
The Dire Wolf holstered his weapon and rushed over to the two stunned creatures. "Keep watch, Argent."
"Got it," the young Chujiran said.
"Why not use darts on both of them?" asked Josef as he retrieved his arrow.
"Because I don't want to put both chemicals in this one's system at the same time," Bane said. He crouched over the one Kobal who had been knocked out by the arrow and turned the creature over on its back. Reaching inside his field jacket, he drew out a flat metal case that held a row of four syringes and checked the label before injecting the contents into the Kobal's arm. The Dire Wolf carefully replaced the empty syringe to the case and pocketed it again.
"Oh. Veratilin?" said the Blind Archer. "I see."
"Yep. Formulated by the Trom, more effective than truth serum but also a little dangerous," Bane replied. "Still, with something as big as this Ape, it should be safe. I'm usually reluctant to use veratilin on Humans." As he spoke, the Kobal stirred and mumbled. Its eyes opened just as slits.
"I know you can understand me," Bane said in the primal language Prilirdyn. "What is your name?"
"Dewa. Dewa the Potter.."
"Where is the Temple of Margoth?" Bane asked in a clear commanding tone.
"Temple.. Hills. Skullhunter Hills." the Ape mumbled.
"How do we get there?"
"Upstream, upstream morning walk."
Bane thought for a second. "Have you seen Duran?"
"Yes.. many times."
"No, I mean have you seen Duran recently?"
"No. Not for long time." The Ape turned over and started to snore enthusiastically. Bane stood up.
"Well, he's out. In maybe twenty minutes, he'll start to come out of it enough for more questions. But I think we have enough to work with." The Dire Wolf placed the clay jug near the sleeping Ape. "These two should both wake up around the same time. Hopefully they'll figure they just dozed off in the sun."
Sheng Mo-Yuan hopped down off a boulder from which he had been watching the area. "So we're going to visit the Skullhunters now. Nice name. Say, who's Duran?"
"The Lord of Okali. An outsider, like us. I'll have to explain later, the clock is ticking." Bane wheeled and sprinted off, following a vague trail upstream. He was not going anywhere near his full speed, so his teammates could keep up.
III.
Darkness fell abruptly in Okali. There was almost no twilight, only a wave of nightfall. The three knights of Tel Shai had approached the Skullhunter settlement warily, keeping to cover and making no noise. The Skullhunter village was more extensive than the Kobal settlement, larger huts with thatched roofs and doors that hung on straps. A large communal bonfire was blazing in the center and roasting meat could be smelled for quite a distance. A hollowed stone vat was filled with some fermented fruit syrup that smelled like peaches.The most unsettling difference was that every hut had a ring of skulls around its base, and skulls were arranged to mark paths between the huts. Additional skulls were strung on ropes between the huts. It was a grisly decor, especially since most of the skulls were those of Kobalim and manticores, but there were many human skulls as well.
It was hard to decide where the Skullhunters themselves had originated, Bane thought as he watched them feasting around the fire. They were tall, well-built, with tawny skin and long black hair. Most were loinclothes or tunics of tanned animal hide and sandals. An impressive array of weapons was everywhere...long knives, bows, spears, stone-haded hammers and copper-bladed axes.
"These are not peaceful farmers," whispered Argent.
"Shhhh." Bane drew back out of earshot and pointed uphill. A wide, stone-flagged path led from the center of the village up to the Temple of Margoth. This was built of rough stone blocks sanded to fit smoothly together. There was a single entrance flanked with two torches burning on separate posts. A single guard stood by the door. "We need to wait until the tribe settles down for the night. The way they're guzzling that brandy or whatever it is, they should be sleeping soon. Argent and I will charge the Temple. Josef, you'll cover us. But we will make a distraction before we move."
"Waiting is the hardest part," Sheng grumbled. Bane agreed but they had no choice. They had canteens and high-protein granola bars in their kits and they settled for the next few hours. It seemed to take forever, but finally the only Skullhunters in sight were a few who had fallen asleep around the fire. The village grew quiet. Bane stood up and whispered, "Follow me."
The Dire Wolf drew on all his Kumundu training and the tips he had been taught by Shiro Mitsuru years earlier. He moved up behind the lone sentry, so silent it seemed impossible, and suddenly seized the man in a sleeper hold. The spear dropped but made no noise on the grass. After a minute, Bane lowered the unconscious Skullhunter to the ground. He drew one of the silver daggers from its sheath on his forearm and cut strips from the man's loincloth. Standing, Bane and Josef wrapped the strips tightly around four arrows. Then, as Bane lit one hide-bound arrow at a time at a torch, the Blind Archer sent them flying to thump into the thatched roofs of four widely separated huts. The dry material blazed up instantly. In a few minutes, the village was in an uproar as drunk, half-awake Skullhunters stumbled out and began trying to put out the fires. They did not seem to have a clear plan and mostly milled about in confusion.
"Let's go, Sheng." Bane led the way inside the Temple, where small rushes burned on stone bowls to give a dim light. There were woven mats lined up on the floor before a waist-high altar decorated with dried flowers. A carved wooden image of Margoth, the Halar of Fire, loomed up over that altar and looked down with cruel glee. From behind a curtain, two older men in dark robes emerged and Argent sprang upon them. He whirled to smack one down with a crescent kick that flung the man up against the wall, then seized the other one in an armlock and forced him down to the floor. Sheng drove his elbow down to the back of the man's head with a cracking noise, then rose to face Bane.
"Sorry I didn't save one for you," the Chujiran said.
"That's okay." Bane stepped up to the altar and hopped lightly to stand on top of it. The idol of Margoth had one hand carved to hold a thin metal bar about a foot long, ending in a round head. A branding iron. The Dire Wolf slid it free and hefted it thoughtfully. "Sorry, Margoth," he said as he jumped down and joined Sheng. "Let's get going." They went to the door of the Temple, where Josef was standing with an arrow notched and ready.
"None of them have even glanced up here," the Blind Archer said. "They are just letting the huts burn and trying to keep the fire from spreading."
"Fine with me," snapped Bane. "We've got what we came for. Let's put some distance between us and these Skullhunters."
"This was too easy," Argent said.
"This was only the first part of our mission, Sheng. Now comes the crucial stage." The Dire Wolf led his teammates into the darkness.
Eventually, the burning huts would wind down and smolder. The stunned priests and guard at the Temple would be found and would not be able to explain what had struck them down, nor would the ancient sceptre from the idol's grasp ever be found. Stories would be invented to explain the strange events of that night, but the Skullhunters would never really learn what had happened.
IV.
In a flash of blue light, the three Tel Shai knights appeared in the hangar on the top floor of the KDF building. The black helicopter CORBY took up most of the floor space. Bane handed the Brand of Submission to Sheng and shrugged out of his field jacket. Under it, a pale blue gem in a silver setting had been strapped between his shoulders. The Dire Wolf secured the gem in a cabinet and breathed a sigh of relief. Eldar travel crystals were rare and almost impossible for Humans to obtain and he disliked taking one into other realms unless absolutely necessary. Bane yanked his field jacket back on and glanced at the wall clock. Three-ten AM.
Josef had unstrung his bow, and he placed it and his quiver on a small table in one corner. "Temur Kasten said he would contact us at dawn. That only gives us a few hours."
"...And we have a lot to do yet," Bane agreed. He took his Link from where it was clipped to his belt and hit a few buttons. "Sable? What's the situation?"
"We're in the conference room, captain."
"Stay there. We're back, we'll join you there." With Sheng and Josef, the Dire Wolf left the hangar and rushed down a flight of stairs to the ninth floor. The hangar had originally been the roof of the building and the elevator did not go up the final story. The hree of them got in the cage and descended to the second floor to hurry across the hall into the conference room.
"Oh, you guys are all okay," Unicorn cried. "We were getting a little worried." Like Sable and Levon, she had changed into the black field suit. Now the entire team had assembled- except, of course, for the captive Megan Salenger.
"At ease, Ashley," Bane said. "We're fine. Here's what we went to fetch. Sable, your report?"
"We found a detailed drawing of the Brand of Submission in one of Kenneth Dred'd journals. It's a Darthan talisman, no surprise. Anyone marked by it will obey any order given by the person who branded him or her. It doesn't need to be heated as it works by gralic force. No one has seen it in fifty years."
"I don't know how the Skullhunters got hold of it, but somehow Temur Kasten found it," Bane said. "Go on."
"Here's where my two years of metal shop helped," Ashley Whitaker interrupted. "Mom was very big on breaking gender roles, so in high school I wanted to take fashion design but she nagged me to take two years of metal shop instead, what a drag..."
"Unicorn! Stick to the report."
"Right. Well, we found a round steel disc that measured the same as what the drawing said. So I got some copper and beat it into a thin foil, then wrapped it around the disc and raised the same design as in the drawing. Here, see for yourself." She slid a reddish piece of metal the size of a silver dollar across the table. Everyone crowded close to look.
Bane took the Brand of Submission from Sheng, unscrewed the metal disc from the shaft and placed it next to the replica.
The real Brand was made from gremthom, the red metal used by the Darthim for their talismans. Its outer surface had a raised symbol of a four-pointed star. Unicorn had duplicated it as closely as she could.
"I can tell them apart," Sheng observed.
"Temur Kasten has never seen the real Brand. It was hidden in that Temple for the past fifty years," Bane told him. "This will fool him long enough." He screwed the imitation Brand head onto the metal shaft, and glanced at the clock. "At least three hours until the call. We're as ready as we can be. If anyone wants to take a shower, grab a nap or some food, now is the time."
"With Megan still a captive?" asked Unicorn. "I don't think so."
Josef Jubilec headed for the door. "I will set my alarm for an hour and a half. Ashley, I've learned you catch sleep when you can, no matter what's going on."
Argent went with him, saying, "I missed supper. I'm going to scramble some eggs and cook some bacon if anyone wants some."
"I'll go along with that," Levon agreed and went with the Chujiran. After a few seconds, Sable headed out, too. "I'll be in my room, I could use a few minutes sleep to be honest."
Left alone with Unicorn, Bane put a hand on her shoulder. "Ashley, I know you're more upset than the rest of us."
The blonde teenager lowered her head and would not look at him.
"Only a few weeks ago, you were taken hostage by Arem Kamende. I know you were treated badly and almost raped by Avathor. That's not going to happen to Megan. This Temur Kasten is a Gelengi of Ashfahan, and they have their own code of honor. He would think mistreating a prisoner would reflect badly on him. We will bring our Trom Girl home safe, I promise you."
Ashley lifted her head finally. "I trust you, captain. I knew I could trust you when we first met, and I was only ten at the time, remember? I'll be back after I wash up and get something to drink." She trotted from the room.
After she left, Jeremy Bane concealed the Brand and its imitation in a cabinet, sat down heavily at the head of the table and resigned himself to waiting. To keep his mind occupied, he turned on the police scanner and listened to reports. After twenty minutes, Unicorn reappeared with a plate of bacon and scrambled eggs, a mug of tagra tea in her other hand. "I know you, captain. You are always starving." She put the plate down and handed him a fork. "You should see Levon and Sheng going at it."
"Thanks, Unicorn. You've got me pegged, all right." The price for Bane's superior reflexes was a metabolism that burned calories mercilessly. He dug into the food as she watched with a smile. As soon as he was done and starting to sip the tagra, she took the plate and left the room. Almost at once, she was back with Levon and Argent. They broke out a pack of cards from a drawer and started a game of poker while he watched. Ninety minutes after he had left, Josef entered the room as fresh as if he had been on vacation. Not long after that, Sable came in with her hair still damp from a shower. Everyone watched as Unicorn tried to make up new rules whenever she was losing.
Outside, the first rays of daylight showed behind the skyscrapers. At once, the overhead lights went out again and the
red cloud of gralic force appeared over their table. As it solidified, the face of Temur Kasten again took shape.
Before the sorceror could speak, Bane demanded, "Show us our friend. We want to see her now."
"Very well," the image said in its hollow voice. The red cloud dissolved and reformed, and the image of Megan Salenger appeared, still chained in the cell. She glanced up and her face lit with hope. "Captain...?"
"Megan, are you unharmed?"
"That's a relative term, but they have not injured me. I was fed and given reasonable treatment, considering the fact-"
The face of Temur Kasten swirled into view again. "I trust you see I have acted in a civilized manner. We play a desperate game, Dire Wolf. Did you obtain what I need?"
Bane spoke slowly, forcing his anger down. "We will exchange the Brand of Submission for our friend."
"Excellent. I have arranged a rendezvous not far from your city. First, give me your word as a Tel Shai knight you willgive me the genuine Brand of Submission and you will not try to kill me."
"I swear it! And you... By the beard of your First Father, will you return Megan Salenger alive and well?"
"By the beard of my First Father, I so promise. You know my culture well. I will meet you with one bodyguard and you may do the same, but no more than one."
"Fine," said Bane, his rage starting to show in his voice. "All we need now is an address."
"My property in your world is at the eastern end of Long Island, twelve miles beyond the town of Heron. Enter Saw Mill Road and at its end, there is a trail marked by a wooden bird feeder. I will be waiting for our exchange!" With that, the image flared up and the red cloud dissipated. The overhead lights came back on.
"It was so hard not to threaten him," Bane growled. "But that would get us nowhere. We need to be cold and clear. Josef, let's go."
"Jeremy, I have read up about this Brand of Submission. It makes people into obedient slaves. In ancient Ashfahan, it's how the Gelengi were shaped into assassins who wilingly died during missions. When the head is pressed to skin, gralic force burns that symbol of the four-pointed star in. It's a terrible sigil."
"Yes," Bane agreed. "It's a sick idea."
"And you just promised on your Tel Shai word you would give this weapon to our enemy? I don't get it..."
The Dire Wolf gave her a stern look. "Sable, this is one of the times you just have to trust your captain. The four of you will have to remain here, but stand by. This game is not played out yet."
V.
The ravine was too wide for even them to jump, with jagged rocks below where a shallow creek flowed. To either side was dense brush and some pine trees. Two wooden poles, eight feet high, had been set up with one on either side of the ravine.
A stout rope on pulleys extended between the poles over the ravine like an old-fashioned clothesline.
"He has given this exchange some thought," Josef Jubilec said. He stood beside Bane with his bow strung but no arrow in hand.
"It's a cute set-up," agreed Bane. He held the Brand of Submission in his hands, watching grimly as three figures appeared on the other side of the gap. One was a big, heavyset man in a flannel shirt, jeans and tan work boots. He was carrying the slight form of Megan Salenger in his arms. She twisted her head and saw her teammates but the white surgical tape across her mouth kept from speaking. Her wrists and ankles had been carefully bound with wire.
She was still wearing only a thin cotton slip, showing more leg than the modest girl normally would. Her Trom suit was still in the possession of the enemy, but Bane knew Megan could make it self-destruct as soon as she got hold of one of their Links, with the suit's advanced technology still secret.
Stepping around from behind them was a short, stocky man wearing an expensive brown suit with matching vest and tan tie. The bald head, drooping mustache and red-irised eyes were unmistakable. This was Temur Kasten from Ashfahan, the realm few outsiders had entered and lived to tell the tale.
"Greetings, Dire Wolf," the warlock called. "We shall each of us leave here with what we most desire to possess, a fair trade."
"Don't try to make this sound like a business deal," Bane snapped. "I'm dealing with a kidnapper."
"Very well then. I hoped to keep this civil but have it your way." Temur gestured to the arrangement over the ravine. "Tie the Brand to the rope at your end while we secure the girl."
In a minute, Bane had knotted the talisman securely to the rope with a cord placed there for that purpose. On the other side of the gap, the beefy henchman had fastened Megan to a leather harness that passed under her arms and left her feet dangling clear of the ground. Muffled noises from behind the tape gave a clue how she felt about this.
"Very well, Barnes, proceed." The next few minutes passed in tense watchfulness as the henchman pulled on the ropes hand over hand, sending Megan to dangle over the ravine and the Brand to head toward Temur. Girl and talisman passed each other at the midway point. Lurid dark red energy crackled around the warlock's hands as he prepared for trouble. In contrast, the Dire Wolf stood relaxed, arms folded.
It only took one minute but it seemed much longer to everyone. Bane quickly got Megan out of the harness and on her feet. He said, "This is going to hurt," and yanked the tape off her mouth.
"You're right," she said, "that DID hurt." He had taken a small pair of pliers from his field suit and started working on the wire binding her wrists. It had been tightened more than was necessary.
An outraged roar came from the warlock on the other side of the ravine. "This is not gremthom! It's common copper. Tel Shai, you broke your solemn oath."
"You think so?"
"You swore to give me the genuine Brand of Submission!"
"And here it comes," Bane said quietly. Temur had no chance to react. The arrow had already whizzed from Josef's bow as Bane spoke. The shaft smashed directly to the sorceror's forehead hard as a punch. Its flat metal head did not penetrate, and the arrow dropped to the grass. Temur Kasten reeled back, almost fell but somehow kept his balance. His eyes rolled up so the whites showed. An imprint was branded just above and between his eyes... the symbol of a four-pointed star.
"I promised to give you the Brand!" Bane yelled. "You got it! Temur Kasten, I order you to stand still and make no move to escape. Let the gralic force fade from your hands."
As the warlock numbly obeyed, the henchman seemed to make a sudden decision. He lunged for the Brand of Submission and yanked a pistol from his pants pocket just as a razor-edged arrow sank into his chest. The man fell to his knees, then over on his side. Josef lowered his hand from the bowstring with a grim smile.
"We still need to get over there and retrieve that talisman," he said to his captain. "I want to get my arrow back, too. What about your new slave?"
Bane had almost got Trom Girl free. "Him? Oh, I guess we'll send him home. The king of Ashfahan decrees death to any of his subjects who enter the real world. Let his own people deal with him." Kneeling, the Dire Wolf finally unwound the wire from Megan's ankles and they both stood up. "There you go, Megan, good as new."
The Trom Girl rubbed her chafed hands. "That was a little sneaky, captain. But you did keep your word."
Bane glanced over to where the enslaved warlock stood with a blank expression. "He got what he asked for."
2/26/2014
8/3/-8/4/2000
I.
The storm had been building all day. A week of hot, stifling weather had everyone in the city on edge, and as a wave of cooler air swept down from Canada across the state, violent thunderstrorms knocked down power lines and blocked roads with fallen trees. As the storm hit Manhattan, Jeremy Bane stood in the conference room of the headquarters building and watched lightning flash. He saw the dense rain smash down on East 38th Street.
"The city could use a good scrubbing," said a voice behind him.
Bane half turned to look over his shoulder at his team of Tel Shai knights. It was Argent who had spoken, a brash Chujiran warrior whose real name was Sheng Mo-Yuan. "It's too bad we can't pour a couple hundred gallons of detergents on the streets as well," added Sheng.
Bane's invariably grim manner eased a little. He was a tall, lean man in his early forties, dressed as always all in black. His pale grey eyes ranged over his team seated at the long oak table. Argent sat next to Sable Reilly. Opposite her was Levon Bingham, the young black man who had claimed the talisman Cat's-Claw. Next to him, blowing a pink bubble of gum, was a lovely little blonde named Ashley Whitaker, the Unicorn. In contrast to Bane, she was dressed in white jeans and a white long-sleeved pullover.
The four members at the table had notebooks and pens and scraps of paper in front of them, looking for all the world like college students. Their training as KDF members under Bane's leadership mostly involved active practice of martial arts, piloting the CORBYs, learning how to pick locks and escape from bonds, diving from heights and scaling sheer walls. But there was also a huge amount of Midnight War history and lore to be learned, and some book study was inevitable.
Unicorn popped her bubble, sucked the gum back in and put down her pen. "My mom already told me a lot of this stuff. It's so tangled and complicated, with the different Races of Trolls and Snake men and Darthim and forty different adjacent realms with their own feuds and alliances. Ick. It's worse than World History back in high school."
Bane turned those pale grey eyes on the Unicorn and his voice was low."The difference is that these Snake men and Trolls and Darthim will be trying to kill you. If you know their agendas and weaknesses, there's a chance you might survive."
Thunder crashed so close at hand that they all gave a start and then smiled sheepishly. Sable Reilly closed her notebook. "I love a good thunderstorm," she said. "Captain, isn't Megan supposed to be back by now?"
"She last reported in an hour ago that she was on her way. It's not like her to be late." Bane headed over to the table. "I should page her."
"Come to think of it, where's Josef?" Sable added. "He had breakfast this morning and that's the last I saw of him."
"He's on a personal leave day. His car is giving him trouble and he's looking for a new one." Bane turned back to the high narrow windows looking out on the rain. "He didn't pick the best day to go browsing at car dealerships."
Ashley Whitaker jumped up and stretched, then brushed her platinum hair back. "We've had four hours of why the Melgarin and the Gelydrim hate each other. I vote we do something exciting-" As she spoke, the lights went out. "Well, there you go," she said, "like this." The conference room was lit only by the dim light from the windows.
"Jeremy?" asked Sable, "don't we have our own generator?"
"We do. And it should have kicked in automatically," he snapped. "This is not just the storm. Everyone on your feet."
The Dire Wolf had stepped over to a cabinet by the door and took out a stand-up metal lantern two feet high. He clicked it on and white light poured out. "Only gralic force could dampen our Trom generator. Combat status! Ashley, where's your horn?"
"Right here," she answered, holding up the leather case holding her talisman. "It's never out of reach."
Red light glimmered in the air over the conference table, a swirling nimbus of cloudy energy. The five Tel Shai knights watched as the image of a face took form, larger than life size, distorted as if seen through unsteady water. The face was that of a man with a shaven head and a mustache that came down either side of his mouth to his chin. Thick eyebrows rose up at a sharp angle over eyes with bright red irises. It was a brutal, merciless face, vaguely Asian, the face of a warlord.
"Whoa," squeaked Unicorn. "This is something new."
The face in the red cloud fastened its attention on Bane. "You do not know me," came a voice from a distance. "Yet you are the one I have sought, the Dire Wolf, heir to Kenneth Dred."
"You look like a native of Ashfahan to me," Bane answered.
"Ah, very good. Yes. I am Temur Kasten, sorceror of the court of the Dread Zhengdu himself. Our king has forbidden us to venture to your world but I have a need which must be met."
The Dire Wolf crossed a few steps over toward the table, seeing if the face would turn to follow him. It did. The image could see into the room. "So, it was you who knocked out our electricity? Just to get our attention."
"Exactly," said the image of Temur Kasten. "Listen closely, these are my words. I have a task for you, to retrieve a treasure of great importance, from a realm of peril. Only warriors like your knights of Tel Shai may hope to succeed. You must lead your team to Okali and fetch the Brand of Submission."
Bane's voice remained steady. "And why MUST we do this?"
The image shifted and reformed. It solidified again to show a dungeon of stone blocks, lit by a single torch. Chained by her wrists, sitting on loose straw, was a young woman with tousled black hair and inquisitive features. She was wearing only a thin cotton shift and had her eyes closed.
"Megan!" Unicorn yelped, and the others reacted with angry murmurs.
"You have captured one of my knights?" asked Bane in icy tones.
"She has not been harmed nor mistreated," said the voice of Temur Kasten as his face began to rematerialize. "I know I have made an enemy of you by doing this, but a great prize requires great risk."
Bane made no threats. He merely said, "Go on."
"Hear me, Dire Wolf. I have no wish to harm this child, but if you do not cooperate, then I must turn her over to the people-skinners. She is but a lever to force you to act. You have Eldar travel crystals. Go to Okali, fetch the Brand of Submission from the Temple of Margoth and your Trom Girl will be returned. We need never meet again."
Still with a calm steady voice, Bane said, "How can we contact you?"
"You will hear from me at the first light of dawn tomorrow. Your fortress will again dim and we will speak." The red cloud boiled and dissipated, the image faded and the overhead fluorescent lights came back on.
Argent was openly furious. "How do we know that was really our Megan? What if it's a trick?"
"I don't think so," Bane answered. "Sable?"
Sable Lauren Reilly considered for a second. Her power was gralic enhancement of the senses, she could see on a microscopic level and her hearing and sense of smell also extended beyond what science could explain. "Every detail was accurate, down to the pores of her skin. I see no reason to doubt that that was Megan."
"And your opinion about Temur Kasten?"
"I was dealing with an image, but even so... his voice was steady, with no subvocal tremors to indicate uncertainy. His pupils expanded at the right times. The muscles in his face were in consistent tension. I believe he was telling us the truth, captain."
"That's what I was thinking," Bane agreed. "Sheng, contact Josef and have him report here now. I know you are all thinking that we do not negotiate with kidnapers or terrorists, and that is our policy. But in this case, I have a plan. Temur Kasten is in for a rude awakening."
"I thought so!" Unicorn said. "When do you ever NOT have a plan?"
II.
A flare of clear blue light swirled silently, and when it faded, three men had appeared from nowhere. They stood with weapons ready, looking around warily at their new surroundings. Sheng Mo-Yuan lowered his dart gun and grinned. "This place is gorgeous, captain. Usually we end up in some hellhole."
Okali was grassland, a dry prairie with a row of dim bluish mountains far to the west. The air smelled clean and fresh in a way only a pre-industrial realm could. Overhead a crow circled. Bane holstered his own weapon. "It's okay," he said grudgingly. "Unspoiled. Over in that direction is a forest where we'll be heading. I'll fill you guys in as we march." He took off at a brisk clip.
Less than half an hour ago, Josef Jubilec had rushed into the conference room in response to the summons. Now he was in the adjacent realm, walking behind him captain. The Blind Archer wore a Y-shaped leather quiver across his back which held eighteen shafts. He had strung his handcrafted bow before they had left and he carried it at the ready. Beside him, Argent gazed at the scenery as they hiked. Both men had put on field suits identical to the one Bane wore. Black boots, pants and a waist-length jacket with its inner layer of Trom armor, the suits were loaded with weapons and gadgets. Sheng kept his visored helmet clipped to his back, and Josef did not wear one because it interefered with his ability.
"First, technology will not function well in this realm. Our dart guns sometimes work and sometimes don't, but gunpowder never does. Even flashlights are useless here. It's Jordyn's way of protecting this realm," Bane said. He picked up speed. All three were in excellent condition and could move at a near run for hours without tiring. "The wildlife here is interesting," he continued. "Okali is where the Darthim conducted their experiments in mutating animals. Ashley's unicorn horn came from here originally. There are manticores, griffins, eight foot carniverous birds and true Dire Wolves the size of bears."
"That's wild," laughed Sheng. "National Geographic should send a film crew here."
"Now, there are two groups of intelligent natives," Bane said. "The Skullhunters are Human enough, but the Kobalim, well... they are talking gorillas."
"Oh, come on!" Argent scoffed. "You can't be serious."
"We're bound to meet some," said Bane. "See how you feel then."
Josef Jubilec was gazing at the horizon with intense blue eyes. The oldest member of the new team, he was still under thirty but a hard life had weathered his face. He said, "I'm surprised we're co-operating with this warlock, Jeremy. Normally we refuse to act under duress."
"You're right. Megan knows that, we all do. But in this particular case, I have a plan. Those foothills up ahead are where the Kobalim have their villages. The Temple of Margoth must be there, but I don't know exactly where." He started to slow his pace. They were nearing the edge of the forest, and low bushes were beginning to be more common. A hundred yards to their right, grazing on the lush damp grass was a group of a dozen small animals.
From a distance they looked like white ponies, foot feet at the shoulder and too small to carry a rider. Their legs resembled those of a hart, with cloven hooves and their lionlike tails had a tuft to fur at the end. Most striking, of course, were the horns. Just above the wideset eyes was a slim ivory spiral which extended from one foot to two feet, depending on the individual.
"Unicorns," breathed Josef. "My God, real live unicorns."
"Ashley should see this," Sheng whispered. "I wonder if she's ever been here."
Bane gestured for silence and pointed past the unicorns. Stalking stealthily from the trees was a large predator. A lion with the head of a baboon, the great beast was six feet long, with a reddish coat and tawny mane. It had apelike front paws but leonine hind legs. The brute was circling closer to the unicorns, picking one for the attack.
Josef had notched a razor-edged arrow to his bowstring, but Bane laid a restraining hand on his arm. "We have to get going," he said.
"But it's going to eat one of them!" Josef objected.
"That's nature. The manticore has a right to exist, too." Bane started off sprinting and Josef reluctantly returned the arrow to its place and followed.
Half an hour later, they had passed through a strip of woods and spotted the village of Kobalim. Huts of roughly hewn logs and branches, packed with dried mud, made up most of the settlement. Fires burned in stone pits between the huts, and there was a raised platform in the central area bearing a stone image of a bird with outstretched wings...some sort of idol or totem. Fruit and nuts were piled in front of the statue as offerings.
And there, lumbering about their business with their knuckles touching the earth as they walked, were the Kobalim. Bane had seen them before, but Josef and Sheng stared with disbelief.
The Speaking Apes of Okali at first seemed to be just mountain gorillas, with hair and skin ranging from tan to black in various combinations. After a minute's observation, though, it was clear they had a more Human face and hip structure than gorillas, and no sagittal crest. They seemed to average a few inches under six feet tall and would weigh on average a bit under four hundred pounds.
They were not wearing any clothing at all, but one or two did have a basket strapped over one shoulder with a strap of woven grass and a few were carrying hardened clay pitchers or bowls. The Kobalim could be heard barking out distinct words, not more than three or four words in a row but perfectly intelligible.
Argent shook his head. "If I ever say I have seen everything, remind me of this moment." He turned to Bane. "Are we going to introduce ourselves?"
"Not yet," the Dire Wolf answered. "These boys are unpredictable. Let's see what kind of mood they're in."
An hour passed as they observed, getting to recognize individual Kobalim and identifying their activities. He saw two of the Apes picked up large clay jugs and head out of the village. "Water jugs," Bane said and took off at a run in a diferent direction. As Argent and the Blind Archer followed, he raced through the woods and stopped behind a cluster of trees close to a stream. Clear cold water ran down over rounded rocks to form a pool. Seconds later, his teammates joined him. He gestured for silence. The two Kobalim trudged up a path not fifty feet away. The Speaking Apes put down their jugs, lowered themselves onto a rock ledge and splashed their feet contentedly. One of them yawned, showing wicked yellow fangs.
Bane caught Josef's eye and made a punching gesture. The Blind Archer drew a black silk band up over his eyes, notched an arrow and let fly. The hard rubber knob smacked right on the temple of the nearest Kobal, knocking him over on his side. Before the second one could react, a dart from Bane's silent airgun jabbed deep into the side of his neck. The Ape grunted and slapped at it, then sagged to the ground.
The Dire Wolf holstered his weapon and rushed over to the two stunned creatures. "Keep watch, Argent."
"Got it," the young Chujiran said.
"Why not use darts on both of them?" asked Josef as he retrieved his arrow.
"Because I don't want to put both chemicals in this one's system at the same time," Bane said. He crouched over the one Kobal who had been knocked out by the arrow and turned the creature over on its back. Reaching inside his field jacket, he drew out a flat metal case that held a row of four syringes and checked the label before injecting the contents into the Kobal's arm. The Dire Wolf carefully replaced the empty syringe to the case and pocketed it again.
"Oh. Veratilin?" said the Blind Archer. "I see."
"Yep. Formulated by the Trom, more effective than truth serum but also a little dangerous," Bane replied. "Still, with something as big as this Ape, it should be safe. I'm usually reluctant to use veratilin on Humans." As he spoke, the Kobal stirred and mumbled. Its eyes opened just as slits.
"I know you can understand me," Bane said in the primal language Prilirdyn. "What is your name?"
"Dewa. Dewa the Potter.."
"Where is the Temple of Margoth?" Bane asked in a clear commanding tone.
"Temple.. Hills. Skullhunter Hills." the Ape mumbled.
"How do we get there?"
"Upstream, upstream morning walk."
Bane thought for a second. "Have you seen Duran?"
"Yes.. many times."
"No, I mean have you seen Duran recently?"
"No. Not for long time." The Ape turned over and started to snore enthusiastically. Bane stood up.
"Well, he's out. In maybe twenty minutes, he'll start to come out of it enough for more questions. But I think we have enough to work with." The Dire Wolf placed the clay jug near the sleeping Ape. "These two should both wake up around the same time. Hopefully they'll figure they just dozed off in the sun."
Sheng Mo-Yuan hopped down off a boulder from which he had been watching the area. "So we're going to visit the Skullhunters now. Nice name. Say, who's Duran?"
"The Lord of Okali. An outsider, like us. I'll have to explain later, the clock is ticking." Bane wheeled and sprinted off, following a vague trail upstream. He was not going anywhere near his full speed, so his teammates could keep up.
III.
Darkness fell abruptly in Okali. There was almost no twilight, only a wave of nightfall. The three knights of Tel Shai had approached the Skullhunter settlement warily, keeping to cover and making no noise. The Skullhunter village was more extensive than the Kobal settlement, larger huts with thatched roofs and doors that hung on straps. A large communal bonfire was blazing in the center and roasting meat could be smelled for quite a distance. A hollowed stone vat was filled with some fermented fruit syrup that smelled like peaches.The most unsettling difference was that every hut had a ring of skulls around its base, and skulls were arranged to mark paths between the huts. Additional skulls were strung on ropes between the huts. It was a grisly decor, especially since most of the skulls were those of Kobalim and manticores, but there were many human skulls as well.
It was hard to decide where the Skullhunters themselves had originated, Bane thought as he watched them feasting around the fire. They were tall, well-built, with tawny skin and long black hair. Most were loinclothes or tunics of tanned animal hide and sandals. An impressive array of weapons was everywhere...long knives, bows, spears, stone-haded hammers and copper-bladed axes.
"These are not peaceful farmers," whispered Argent.
"Shhhh." Bane drew back out of earshot and pointed uphill. A wide, stone-flagged path led from the center of the village up to the Temple of Margoth. This was built of rough stone blocks sanded to fit smoothly together. There was a single entrance flanked with two torches burning on separate posts. A single guard stood by the door. "We need to wait until the tribe settles down for the night. The way they're guzzling that brandy or whatever it is, they should be sleeping soon. Argent and I will charge the Temple. Josef, you'll cover us. But we will make a distraction before we move."
"Waiting is the hardest part," Sheng grumbled. Bane agreed but they had no choice. They had canteens and high-protein granola bars in their kits and they settled for the next few hours. It seemed to take forever, but finally the only Skullhunters in sight were a few who had fallen asleep around the fire. The village grew quiet. Bane stood up and whispered, "Follow me."
The Dire Wolf drew on all his Kumundu training and the tips he had been taught by Shiro Mitsuru years earlier. He moved up behind the lone sentry, so silent it seemed impossible, and suddenly seized the man in a sleeper hold. The spear dropped but made no noise on the grass. After a minute, Bane lowered the unconscious Skullhunter to the ground. He drew one of the silver daggers from its sheath on his forearm and cut strips from the man's loincloth. Standing, Bane and Josef wrapped the strips tightly around four arrows. Then, as Bane lit one hide-bound arrow at a time at a torch, the Blind Archer sent them flying to thump into the thatched roofs of four widely separated huts. The dry material blazed up instantly. In a few minutes, the village was in an uproar as drunk, half-awake Skullhunters stumbled out and began trying to put out the fires. They did not seem to have a clear plan and mostly milled about in confusion.
"Let's go, Sheng." Bane led the way inside the Temple, where small rushes burned on stone bowls to give a dim light. There were woven mats lined up on the floor before a waist-high altar decorated with dried flowers. A carved wooden image of Margoth, the Halar of Fire, loomed up over that altar and looked down with cruel glee. From behind a curtain, two older men in dark robes emerged and Argent sprang upon them. He whirled to smack one down with a crescent kick that flung the man up against the wall, then seized the other one in an armlock and forced him down to the floor. Sheng drove his elbow down to the back of the man's head with a cracking noise, then rose to face Bane.
"Sorry I didn't save one for you," the Chujiran said.
"That's okay." Bane stepped up to the altar and hopped lightly to stand on top of it. The idol of Margoth had one hand carved to hold a thin metal bar about a foot long, ending in a round head. A branding iron. The Dire Wolf slid it free and hefted it thoughtfully. "Sorry, Margoth," he said as he jumped down and joined Sheng. "Let's get going." They went to the door of the Temple, where Josef was standing with an arrow notched and ready.
"None of them have even glanced up here," the Blind Archer said. "They are just letting the huts burn and trying to keep the fire from spreading."
"Fine with me," snapped Bane. "We've got what we came for. Let's put some distance between us and these Skullhunters."
"This was too easy," Argent said.
"This was only the first part of our mission, Sheng. Now comes the crucial stage." The Dire Wolf led his teammates into the darkness.
Eventually, the burning huts would wind down and smolder. The stunned priests and guard at the Temple would be found and would not be able to explain what had struck them down, nor would the ancient sceptre from the idol's grasp ever be found. Stories would be invented to explain the strange events of that night, but the Skullhunters would never really learn what had happened.
IV.
In a flash of blue light, the three Tel Shai knights appeared in the hangar on the top floor of the KDF building. The black helicopter CORBY took up most of the floor space. Bane handed the Brand of Submission to Sheng and shrugged out of his field jacket. Under it, a pale blue gem in a silver setting had been strapped between his shoulders. The Dire Wolf secured the gem in a cabinet and breathed a sigh of relief. Eldar travel crystals were rare and almost impossible for Humans to obtain and he disliked taking one into other realms unless absolutely necessary. Bane yanked his field jacket back on and glanced at the wall clock. Three-ten AM.
Josef had unstrung his bow, and he placed it and his quiver on a small table in one corner. "Temur Kasten said he would contact us at dawn. That only gives us a few hours."
"...And we have a lot to do yet," Bane agreed. He took his Link from where it was clipped to his belt and hit a few buttons. "Sable? What's the situation?"
"We're in the conference room, captain."
"Stay there. We're back, we'll join you there." With Sheng and Josef, the Dire Wolf left the hangar and rushed down a flight of stairs to the ninth floor. The hangar had originally been the roof of the building and the elevator did not go up the final story. The hree of them got in the cage and descended to the second floor to hurry across the hall into the conference room.
"Oh, you guys are all okay," Unicorn cried. "We were getting a little worried." Like Sable and Levon, she had changed into the black field suit. Now the entire team had assembled- except, of course, for the captive Megan Salenger.
"At ease, Ashley," Bane said. "We're fine. Here's what we went to fetch. Sable, your report?"
"We found a detailed drawing of the Brand of Submission in one of Kenneth Dred'd journals. It's a Darthan talisman, no surprise. Anyone marked by it will obey any order given by the person who branded him or her. It doesn't need to be heated as it works by gralic force. No one has seen it in fifty years."
"I don't know how the Skullhunters got hold of it, but somehow Temur Kasten found it," Bane said. "Go on."
"Here's where my two years of metal shop helped," Ashley Whitaker interrupted. "Mom was very big on breaking gender roles, so in high school I wanted to take fashion design but she nagged me to take two years of metal shop instead, what a drag..."
"Unicorn! Stick to the report."
"Right. Well, we found a round steel disc that measured the same as what the drawing said. So I got some copper and beat it into a thin foil, then wrapped it around the disc and raised the same design as in the drawing. Here, see for yourself." She slid a reddish piece of metal the size of a silver dollar across the table. Everyone crowded close to look.
Bane took the Brand of Submission from Sheng, unscrewed the metal disc from the shaft and placed it next to the replica.
The real Brand was made from gremthom, the red metal used by the Darthim for their talismans. Its outer surface had a raised symbol of a four-pointed star. Unicorn had duplicated it as closely as she could.
"I can tell them apart," Sheng observed.
"Temur Kasten has never seen the real Brand. It was hidden in that Temple for the past fifty years," Bane told him. "This will fool him long enough." He screwed the imitation Brand head onto the metal shaft, and glanced at the clock. "At least three hours until the call. We're as ready as we can be. If anyone wants to take a shower, grab a nap or some food, now is the time."
"With Megan still a captive?" asked Unicorn. "I don't think so."
Josef Jubilec headed for the door. "I will set my alarm for an hour and a half. Ashley, I've learned you catch sleep when you can, no matter what's going on."
Argent went with him, saying, "I missed supper. I'm going to scramble some eggs and cook some bacon if anyone wants some."
"I'll go along with that," Levon agreed and went with the Chujiran. After a few seconds, Sable headed out, too. "I'll be in my room, I could use a few minutes sleep to be honest."
Left alone with Unicorn, Bane put a hand on her shoulder. "Ashley, I know you're more upset than the rest of us."
The blonde teenager lowered her head and would not look at him.
"Only a few weeks ago, you were taken hostage by Arem Kamende. I know you were treated badly and almost raped by Avathor. That's not going to happen to Megan. This Temur Kasten is a Gelengi of Ashfahan, and they have their own code of honor. He would think mistreating a prisoner would reflect badly on him. We will bring our Trom Girl home safe, I promise you."
Ashley lifted her head finally. "I trust you, captain. I knew I could trust you when we first met, and I was only ten at the time, remember? I'll be back after I wash up and get something to drink." She trotted from the room.
After she left, Jeremy Bane concealed the Brand and its imitation in a cabinet, sat down heavily at the head of the table and resigned himself to waiting. To keep his mind occupied, he turned on the police scanner and listened to reports. After twenty minutes, Unicorn reappeared with a plate of bacon and scrambled eggs, a mug of tagra tea in her other hand. "I know you, captain. You are always starving." She put the plate down and handed him a fork. "You should see Levon and Sheng going at it."
"Thanks, Unicorn. You've got me pegged, all right." The price for Bane's superior reflexes was a metabolism that burned calories mercilessly. He dug into the food as she watched with a smile. As soon as he was done and starting to sip the tagra, she took the plate and left the room. Almost at once, she was back with Levon and Argent. They broke out a pack of cards from a drawer and started a game of poker while he watched. Ninety minutes after he had left, Josef entered the room as fresh as if he had been on vacation. Not long after that, Sable came in with her hair still damp from a shower. Everyone watched as Unicorn tried to make up new rules whenever she was losing.
Outside, the first rays of daylight showed behind the skyscrapers. At once, the overhead lights went out again and the
red cloud of gralic force appeared over their table. As it solidified, the face of Temur Kasten again took shape.
Before the sorceror could speak, Bane demanded, "Show us our friend. We want to see her now."
"Very well," the image said in its hollow voice. The red cloud dissolved and reformed, and the image of Megan Salenger appeared, still chained in the cell. She glanced up and her face lit with hope. "Captain...?"
"Megan, are you unharmed?"
"That's a relative term, but they have not injured me. I was fed and given reasonable treatment, considering the fact-"
The face of Temur Kasten swirled into view again. "I trust you see I have acted in a civilized manner. We play a desperate game, Dire Wolf. Did you obtain what I need?"
Bane spoke slowly, forcing his anger down. "We will exchange the Brand of Submission for our friend."
"Excellent. I have arranged a rendezvous not far from your city. First, give me your word as a Tel Shai knight you willgive me the genuine Brand of Submission and you will not try to kill me."
"I swear it! And you... By the beard of your First Father, will you return Megan Salenger alive and well?"
"By the beard of my First Father, I so promise. You know my culture well. I will meet you with one bodyguard and you may do the same, but no more than one."
"Fine," said Bane, his rage starting to show in his voice. "All we need now is an address."
"My property in your world is at the eastern end of Long Island, twelve miles beyond the town of Heron. Enter Saw Mill Road and at its end, there is a trail marked by a wooden bird feeder. I will be waiting for our exchange!" With that, the image flared up and the red cloud dissipated. The overhead lights came back on.
"It was so hard not to threaten him," Bane growled. "But that would get us nowhere. We need to be cold and clear. Josef, let's go."
"Jeremy, I have read up about this Brand of Submission. It makes people into obedient slaves. In ancient Ashfahan, it's how the Gelengi were shaped into assassins who wilingly died during missions. When the head is pressed to skin, gralic force burns that symbol of the four-pointed star in. It's a terrible sigil."
"Yes," Bane agreed. "It's a sick idea."
"And you just promised on your Tel Shai word you would give this weapon to our enemy? I don't get it..."
The Dire Wolf gave her a stern look. "Sable, this is one of the times you just have to trust your captain. The four of you will have to remain here, but stand by. This game is not played out yet."
V.
The ravine was too wide for even them to jump, with jagged rocks below where a shallow creek flowed. To either side was dense brush and some pine trees. Two wooden poles, eight feet high, had been set up with one on either side of the ravine.
A stout rope on pulleys extended between the poles over the ravine like an old-fashioned clothesline.
"He has given this exchange some thought," Josef Jubilec said. He stood beside Bane with his bow strung but no arrow in hand.
"It's a cute set-up," agreed Bane. He held the Brand of Submission in his hands, watching grimly as three figures appeared on the other side of the gap. One was a big, heavyset man in a flannel shirt, jeans and tan work boots. He was carrying the slight form of Megan Salenger in his arms. She twisted her head and saw her teammates but the white surgical tape across her mouth kept from speaking. Her wrists and ankles had been carefully bound with wire.
She was still wearing only a thin cotton slip, showing more leg than the modest girl normally would. Her Trom suit was still in the possession of the enemy, but Bane knew Megan could make it self-destruct as soon as she got hold of one of their Links, with the suit's advanced technology still secret.
Stepping around from behind them was a short, stocky man wearing an expensive brown suit with matching vest and tan tie. The bald head, drooping mustache and red-irised eyes were unmistakable. This was Temur Kasten from Ashfahan, the realm few outsiders had entered and lived to tell the tale.
"Greetings, Dire Wolf," the warlock called. "We shall each of us leave here with what we most desire to possess, a fair trade."
"Don't try to make this sound like a business deal," Bane snapped. "I'm dealing with a kidnapper."
"Very well then. I hoped to keep this civil but have it your way." Temur gestured to the arrangement over the ravine. "Tie the Brand to the rope at your end while we secure the girl."
In a minute, Bane had knotted the talisman securely to the rope with a cord placed there for that purpose. On the other side of the gap, the beefy henchman had fastened Megan to a leather harness that passed under her arms and left her feet dangling clear of the ground. Muffled noises from behind the tape gave a clue how she felt about this.
"Very well, Barnes, proceed." The next few minutes passed in tense watchfulness as the henchman pulled on the ropes hand over hand, sending Megan to dangle over the ravine and the Brand to head toward Temur. Girl and talisman passed each other at the midway point. Lurid dark red energy crackled around the warlock's hands as he prepared for trouble. In contrast, the Dire Wolf stood relaxed, arms folded.
It only took one minute but it seemed much longer to everyone. Bane quickly got Megan out of the harness and on her feet. He said, "This is going to hurt," and yanked the tape off her mouth.
"You're right," she said, "that DID hurt." He had taken a small pair of pliers from his field suit and started working on the wire binding her wrists. It had been tightened more than was necessary.
An outraged roar came from the warlock on the other side of the ravine. "This is not gremthom! It's common copper. Tel Shai, you broke your solemn oath."
"You think so?"
"You swore to give me the genuine Brand of Submission!"
"And here it comes," Bane said quietly. Temur had no chance to react. The arrow had already whizzed from Josef's bow as Bane spoke. The shaft smashed directly to the sorceror's forehead hard as a punch. Its flat metal head did not penetrate, and the arrow dropped to the grass. Temur Kasten reeled back, almost fell but somehow kept his balance. His eyes rolled up so the whites showed. An imprint was branded just above and between his eyes... the symbol of a four-pointed star.
"I promised to give you the Brand!" Bane yelled. "You got it! Temur Kasten, I order you to stand still and make no move to escape. Let the gralic force fade from your hands."
As the warlock numbly obeyed, the henchman seemed to make a sudden decision. He lunged for the Brand of Submission and yanked a pistol from his pants pocket just as a razor-edged arrow sank into his chest. The man fell to his knees, then over on his side. Josef lowered his hand from the bowstring with a grim smile.
"We still need to get over there and retrieve that talisman," he said to his captain. "I want to get my arrow back, too. What about your new slave?"
Bane had almost got Trom Girl free. "Him? Oh, I guess we'll send him home. The king of Ashfahan decrees death to any of his subjects who enter the real world. Let his own people deal with him." Kneeling, the Dire Wolf finally unwound the wire from Megan's ankles and they both stood up. "There you go, Megan, good as new."
The Trom Girl rubbed her chafed hands. "That was a little sneaky, captain. But you did keep your word."
Bane glanced over to where the enslaved warlock stood with a blank expression. "He got what he asked for."
2/26/2014
