CHAPTER 13

Wrath and Malice

As she wandered the darkened corridors of the long forgotten castle, Celeste mused over the next step of her plans. She had already conquered much more of the southern territory than she had anticipated, and met far less resistance from the locals. Fear had proven to be a more invaluable tool than any blade or gun, as much of the land fell into her lap with little effort.

She smiled to her self, filled with pride and joy at the thought. Chaos and carnage made her feel truly alive, and she couldn't have asked for better results. The number of lives lost because of her host thrilled her more than the conquest of kingdoms, as she had little desire to rule. True, she had considered for a time taking up the fallen throne of Arendelle, but her interest quickly waned. What she longed for was blood, especially that of the Ice Queen and her obnoxious princess.

The thought of them escaping her again made her blood boil. Celeste had been sure she had them in Fardal, but that pathetic Andolf proved to be utterly useless. Losing him was of little consequence, as it spared her the task of having to flay him alive herself. She hoped that he was rotting in the deepest and darkest part of the pit.

Then there were the slave runners. Ulrik had at least seemed more competent than the rancher, that is until every single one of his prisoners had been set free. She didn't know how, but she was certain that the witch and her dogs were the ones behind it. Regardless, he would make a lovely meal for the hounds.

Snapping back to her surroundings, she found she had come to her destination. A large wooden door sat before her, inscribed with all manner of runes and strange symbols; heavy magics intended to keep whatever was on the other side in. She slid the latch open and pushed the door, and it swung inwards with a shrill squeak.

The chamber was dimly lit, and the lights flickered as the door opened. On one side of the room, the wall was lined with bookshelves and desks. Books and parchment lay scattered across the surfaces and piled in the corners. Several candles were set about the tables, and bottles of various liquids accompanied them on metal stands.

The rest of the large room was lined with all manner of horrible devices, all intended to inflict pain and suffering on their victims. Serrated blades and spiked wheels, whips with metallic bits fastened to the tips, racks and stockades, and other nightmarish tools were fitted neatly in rows on hooks and shelves. Most seemed filthy as if by constant use, which had recently been the case; until the slavers lost their entire stock, they had supplied ample cattle for the rituals.

At the center, a large circle had been carved deep into the stone. Within lied a strange symbol that resembled a sickle, such as those that were used to harvest wheat. Engraved along the interior of the circle and along the edges of the strange figure were tiny runes, all flowing in a spidery fashion. Along the circumference dozens of short, red candles were lit and waiting.

A robed figure approached Celeste and knelt down, leaning over to place their head on the floor. "O Mistress, you humble us with your presence."

Celeste smirked. "Rise. Are the preparations complete?"

The man stood and clasped his hands together. "Of course, Mistress. We are ready to begin."

Another man approached with arms extended, a cloth of black felt in his hands. Lying atop the cloth was an ornate dagger, the handle carved from ivory in the shape of a dragon. The eyes were set rubies, and the blade a strange metal that was much darker than steel or iron. The pommel and quillon were a glistening gold, and very intricately detailed. It was a gorgeous instrument, one she was thrilled to have acquired.

She took the knife in her hand delicately and drank in it's beauty. Running a finger along the length of the blade, a small streak of red began to trickle. "The blacksmith did an amazing job with this. A true masterpiece. Too bad he managed to get away."

There was a muffled yelp from behind her, and she slowly turned her head to stare right at the man responsible. Ulrik hanged there, chained to a crucifix that was connected to a system of pulleys that were attached to the rafters of the ceiling. The man was a bit larger than the crucifix was designed for, but it mattered little; the important part was that it would hold, no matter how he struggled.

Celeste glided across the floor, brandishing the knife and looking quite pleased with herself. "You see, my dear Ulrik," she taunted, "this is what happens when you fail me. You had one simple task, and that was to bring me the blacksmith. But no, you couldn't even do that."

Running the blade gently along his cheek, she slowly walked around the crucifix and grinned maliciously. "Now, you have to pay the price. Believe me when I tell you that I really wish it didn't have to come to this, but those that disappoint me also disappoint the master. You should have been more careful in your methods, you filthy pig."

Walking to the far side of the room, she turned and looked back at the man as struggled to free himself. His curses were choked out by the gag in his mouth, but it was clear enough that he knew his fate. Try as he might, his bindings held fast.

Looking at the men standing behind the large cross, she waved an impatient hand towards the ceiling. "Raise it."

They began turning a large wheel wrapped in chains, and the mechanism clanked and rattled to life. The crucifix jostled and began to sway as it was lifted off the ground. The top end tilted forward the further they moved it, until the entire fixture was parallel to the ground. Then, it came to rest suspended above the center of the engraving in the floor.

In front of the great circle stood a bookstand, and an ancient tome sat open on top. It's bindings were tanned and leathery, and inside arcane runes filled the pages. Celeste thumbed through the book cautiously, until she found what she had been looking for. A satisfied smile momentarily found it's way to her lips, then curled into a hateful sneer.

Holding the dagger above her head, she pointed it towards the ceiling and began to read from the pages of the book:

"O Father of Lies and Eternal Darkness, hear my pleas!

I, but your humble servant, that which wishes to impart

the wrath of the Pit of Damnation upon my enemies,

that which desires to burn the salvation from their very soul,

that which yearns to unleash chaos unbound upon the world,

beg of you to hear me!"

"O Master of Blood and Flesh, I implore you! Know the fervor of my faith unchained!

Know the dedication of my methods and my ways unbound!

Know my thirst to wrest the very innocence

from the earth! Know this, and answer my call!"

"Send me your wicked curs! Your hatred incarnate! Your guardians of the fires!

May the baying of the hounds quench my wrath,

and quell my enemies!"

Taking the book from it's place on the stand, she walked to the crucifix that hanged suspended at the center of the chamber. The man had a terrified expression on his face, which Celeste rather quite enjoyed. Then she raised the knife to his arm and continued reading:

"I offer the blood of the wicked, which shall feed the Beast

and quench thy thirst! It shall run red and pure,

as my faith is to you!"

Slowly she ran the knife along the length of his arm, drawing a crimson line in the blade's wake. The blood glistened in the candlelight, and the silence was so overbearing one could hear the beads drip and impact on the floor below. Then, she walked to the other side and performed the same maneuver on the opposite arm.

The man tried screaming around his gag, and Celeste giggled at his efforts to be heard. He began to shake and convulse violently and involuntarily, and the whole contraption began to sway. As it began to rock back and forth, she stepped out from the circle where the blood had begun to pool. It emptied into the shallow groove where the circle had been carved, and before long the blood had filled it in.

Then, the runes in the floor began to glow, first white, then red, then a fiery orange. The blood began to boil and hiss as if the floor itself had heated to such an intense degree, and the flagstone cracked and tore. The walls rumbled and shook, and the floor split wide as flames spouted out and licked at the man on the crucifix. A horrid cacophony of wails and screams echoed through the gaping maw, and a thick smoke billowed forth. The putrid stench of decay permeated the air, accompanied by the smell of sulpher.

The lanterns and candles in the room snuffed out, and the only light to be seen was emitted by the strange portal. Then suddenly, a low guttural growl pierced the noise as a massive, padded claw reached out from the abyss and found it's footing. Another shot out and did much the same, until a mass of fur and scale and flame emerged. This was shortly followed by another, and as the creatures climbed out of the twisted nightmare bellow, they snarled and sniffed and bayed.

As massive and twisted as they were, they were also sleek and slender in design. Standing nearly as tall as a small horse, the creatures were all muscle and sinew. Their skin was charred black and scaly, and the patches of light fur were ash in color. Large, bulky bodies came to a long drawn out point at the snout, where their teeth were many and sharp. Their eyes were a deep amber, and their pupils dilated as they took in their unfamiliar surroundings.

Suddenly, everything began to quake again as the portal began to contract. The stones started to realign, and the fires were consumed with the tormented symphony as the gap dissolved into the floor. Then, the lights around the room reignited, and all was as it was before.

Laughing to herself, Celeste clapped her hands together and smirked as she moved towards the beasts. They looked at her and began to growl and snarl, but she waved a hand at them and said "adlyde" and they immediately stopped. The men around the room chattered quietly amongst themselves, and took notice as the two sat on their haunches before lying down entirely.

"Mother has a present, dear ones," she said in an affectionate tone.

Her smirk turned into a smile as she walked towards the burned corpse hanging at the center of the room. With another wave of her hand, she said "åpen" and the locks holding the chains clicked open. As she loosened each chain, the body fell to the floor with a sickening thud. The beasts stared on, resisting the urge to rush forward and devour the thing whole.

Celeste cackled with joy. "Eat, my darlings, eat and be full!"

Without hesitation, they leapt from their seats and ran to the smoldering remains. They snarled and growled as they began to consume it, rending flesh from bone in an orgy of violence. Looking on, Celeste reveled in the carnage. These devil dogs were a gift from the very Pit itself, and she marveled at them as they feasted.

"Petar!" she barked. "I want the men to construct a home worthy of my new pets. These hellhounds deserve something immaculate and marvelous!"

"Yes, of course, Mistress. It will be done," a scrawny man with a large beak for a nose said as he bowed and hurried out of the room.

Walking towards the massive creatures, she laid a gentle hand on the back of one's neck and slowly began to stroke it's scaly skin. It was hot to the touch, almost unbearable, but she only smiled and continued to pet the thing. It looked up at her momentarily as it chewed, sniffed her hand, then resumed it's meal.

"You, my dear," she said quietly, "I shall call you Ondskap."

Moving to the other hound, she knelt down and lifted it's head to face hers. "And you will be Vrede. My sweet, beautiful children."

She stood and made her way to the door, and the two beasts followed. Making her way through the corridors of the darkened palace, she thought to herself how much she desired to find the Ice Witch and her sister. Celeste knew that she had to take them alive, or at the very least the princess. Queen Elsa could perish and it would make little difference in her plans, though she would make a much greater gift to her master alive.

She eventually came to a balcony that overlooked a large courtyard, and leaned over the railing. Peering out, she watched as the men beneath carried heavy beams wrought of iron, and toiled as they chipped away at rock and dirt. The large crater they had dug out already filled much of the courtyard, and there was wooden scaffolding and pulleys running along the edges of the vast tunnel.

The snarling of the hellhounds brought her back to her senses, and she turned to see who was disturbing her. A man dressed in long black trousers and a waist coat stood before her, his dark brown hair a wild mess as it flowed out from beneath a beaten tricorne. He wore a long dark brown overcoat and thick leather boots, both aged and worn. His face was scarred and torn, but he bore a stoic expression as if nothing in the world could phase him. He had two pistols and a saber hanging from his waistline, and a large crossbow and bolt case slung across his back.

He looked down at the dogs and blinked, then stared back at Celeste. "You summoned me?"

"Ah, Rønnik! You're finally here," she exclaimed excitedly. "Please, say hello to the newest additions to our lovely family."

"Hellhounds? You brought me here to see your dogs?" he replied as his eyes narrowed.

Celeste scoffed dismissively. "Please, I didn't call you all the way here just for that. I need your help with something."

Scowling, Rønnik crossed his arms and sighed. "Well, get on with it. My patience is running short."

"I need you to hunt down and bring me Queen Elsa and Princess Anna," she said.

"And why should I do this? Why should I risk my neck hunting down the Ice Witch and the brat?" he replied as he eyed her warily.

Smiling, she leaned over and pat Vrede on the head. "Name your price."

"What makes you think you have anything I want?" he said, unfolding his arms.

Celeste looked back over her shoulder to the men working below. "Do you know what I'm looking for?"

This caused him to raise a curious eyebrow. "You must be joking. You think you're going to find the stone here? It's just a myth."

Annoyed, she gave him a sharp look, her eyes almost like daggers. "No, it is here. Eindal was built specifically to protect the bloody thing!"

Rønnik walked to the balcony and leaned over, taking in the sight of the dig. He glanced about, and looked back at her with the same stoic stare he gave before. "Let's say it is here. Why tell me about it?"

"It is said, dear brother," she said in a patronizing tone, "that the stone has limitless power. I am willing to share that power with you, should you do me this favor."

His lips thinned into a faint line. "They are truly worth that much to you?"

"You do realize who they are? The Chosen One and the First Seal?" she replied with a questioning glance.

"Yes. Why do you think I questioned your decision? It will not be an easy task." He looked back out across the courtyard and stared hard at the chasm.

Returning to her feet, Celeste gave a short laugh. "Is my dear, sweet brother afraid of the Ice Witch?"

"Afraid? No. Just cautious. I'm no fool, unlike these men that throw themselves at your feet," he said as he waved a hand in a grand gesture at the workers running about.

She rested a slender hand on his elbow and he turned to face her. "So, will you do this for me or not?"

He paused for a moment, and glanced once more into the courtyard before returning his gaze to her. "I'll do this favor for you, but you owe me," he warned as he pointed a finger at her. "The stone. I want a share of it if you do find it. And the dagger."

This made her blink in incredulity. "The dagger? Oh, you must be joking!"

"Do I look like I am joking to you, dear sister?"

"But you know I can't. It's required for the ceremonies," she explained.

Rønnik simply shrugged with indifference. "That isn't my concern. The dagger has other uses. I want it for their heads."

Drumming her fingers on the railing, Celeste looked down at her new pets. They sat there, staring up at her with a desire to kill. After several silent moments had passed, she let out a heavy sigh. "Fine. But only after the ceremonies are complete. Then the bloody thing will be all yours."

"Then consider the queen and princess yours. I will ride out tonight. Try not to lose my blade or my stone until I get back," he cautioned, then turned and strode down the hall and disappeared from view.

She stood there for a time staring after him, dreaming of ripping him to shreds for his insolence. However, he was far to useful for her to do what she wished, and she knew their father would never approve. Even to her, family meant something, which meant she would stay her hand and let him continue on in his arrogance.

Besides, he had skills that she desperately needed. He was a masterful hunter, and had never lost a single target. He had tricks and talents that most could only dream of possessing, plus he had taken after her and their father some and learned a few magical incantations to supplement his already impressive resumé. Still, he could at the very least be a little kinder to his baby sister.

Leaning back over the railing of the balcony, she peered down into the great chasm that the men had dug. All manner of tools and supplies were being lowered on pulleys, and the scaffolding spiraled into the dark abyss below. The engineers had conceptualized some sort of massive drill, one that could crush and grind the earth with ease. Impressed, Celeste had given them her blessing to construct it, only so long as it didn't damage the treasure that she sought. They had guaranteed that it would remain safe.

Smiling to herself, she turned and strolled back into the darkened corridors of the castle, the demonic beasts trotting along at her heels.

"So, you lost the blacksmith too, did you?" Rønnik chided as he took a sip of his wine.

Looking quite ashamed, and turning a red to match the robes she wore, Celeste sat in her chair and stewed as she poked and prodded her roast boar and potatoes. "I didn't lose anything. That worthless fool, Ulrik, lost every prisoner we had. He paid for it dearly, however." She glanced down at Ondskap and Vrede and smirked.

Her brother shook his head in disappointment. "You need to learn how to find better men than that. You don't just trust these fools to do everything you need. Otherwise, every last one of these curs will become a feast for your hounds."

"It matters little now. The blacksmith will be ours again, and so will the princess and the Ice Witch. There is still one more that remains," she said disinterestedly.

Rønnik scoffed at her. "Only one? How could you possibly know that."

She looked up from her plate and grinned. "He showed me."

Blinking in disbelief, he cut a piece of pork in half and forked it into his mouth. He chewed for a moment before responding. "And where did he learn that then?"

"The blood. It spoke and was very clear," she said mystically.

"The blood. It spoke. He's still so sure that that method is trustworthy?"

Giving a half-hearted shrug, Celeste drank deeply from her wine glass, sat it back down on the table, refilled it, and drank again. "It has never been wrong before."

Just then, the caw of a bird grabbed their attention as a large black raven flitted down from the ceiling and landed on the edge of the table. It hopped a bit before coming to rest next to the slab of roasted wild boar that lay on a large platter in the center. It started pecking, pulling a strand of meat apart and gulping it down.

"Speak of the devil," Rønnik remarked as he refilled his glass with more of the delicious red wine.

Celeste looked rather perturbed. "Where have you been? Gallivanting about with the Witch and her friends?"

The bird looked at her with it's terrible, unblinking eyes, squawked, then resumed eating.

"Don't you dare tell me to mind my manners, you overgrown feather duster! We have been waiting for you!" Celeste reprimanded.

"I doubt the old fool cares about you and your plans, dear sister. Besides, it would do you some good to show him some form of respect. After all, you wouldn't even be able to accomplish what you've set out to do without him," Rønnik remarked behind his wineglass.

Standing, Celeste walked around to the opposite end of the table near the raven. She decided to change her tone, and took on a more friendly appearance. "I'm sorry. I'm simply exhausted from the conquest of the southern states. The north, however, may prove to be more of a challenge than we had thought. Now then, please forgive my outburst."

The thing looked up at her, tilted it's head to the side, and cawed.

Rønnik smirked at his sister and stifled a chuckle. "He's right, you know. The south was easily taken because Arendelle was a passive state. The northern territories will likely be far less so. They are likely to bring in aid from outside of Norway. I'm surprised that Germany and Ireland didn't already intervene on Elsa's behalf."

"It wouldn't have mattered if they did. They would have been crushed just the same," she said confidently.

"So, are you going to tell me who the other one is?" he asked in an amused tone.

Celeste looked at him for a moment, and considered telling him to mind his own business. But, she might need him for more, so she decided against it. "He is a self-proclaimed holy man, about the same age as our obnoxious little princess. He's at a temple to the far north."

Resting his chin on an upraised hand, Rønnik thought about this for a moment. "Does he, too, have the mark?"

Returning to her seat, Celeste let out a heavy sigh as she sat back down. "That is what the blood said."

"You better find out for certain that he does. Same goes for your little princess. So far, only the blacksmith has been confirmed to bear it," he cautioned her.

"Yes, well, we would know for certain about the princess if someone would bring the brat to me already," she retorted.

Rønnik shot her a spiteful look. "I told you I will leave tonight. After dinner, in fact," he said, then paused a moment. "You do at least have the sword, yes?"

"Yes, dear brother. Honestly, if you paid more attention to what's going on you'd know I've had that thing for ages now. The best part is they have no idea," she said in her usual off-hand manner.

Leaning forward, she removed a couple of large slices of pork from the platter and tossed them on the ground between the two hounds. The beasts sniffed and licked them before swallowing them practically whole. She sat there and watched, fascinated by their canine behaviour.

"I never knew that hellhounds were so...hound-like," she mused.

The raven hobbled across the table and looked down at the two great hounds, squawked one more time, then sped off and flew out of a window in the rafters above.

"Sometimes I really hate him," Celeste admitted.

Rønnik nodded in agreement. "He wasn't exactly the most affectionate or caring individual while we were growing up, was he? No matter, I'm headed off. I have a fugitive queen and princess to find. So, if you'll excuse me, my lovely sister," he said with a bow, stood from the table, and strolled out of the dinning hall.

Celeste sat there for a time, alone with Ondskap and Vrede, and considered the day's events. She was no closer to getting what she wanted than she was a month ago, even though everyone had been working tirelessly to bring her one step closer to her goal. What really bothered her, though, was what the raven had said when it left.

In a fit of rage, she threw her wineglass at the wall, shattering it. Screaming, she grabbed up the bottle of wine and threw that as well. One of the servants entered the hall and asked if everything was alright, and she took the carving knife from the table and proceeded to gut the man where he stood. As the body lay on the ground convulsing, she stared at the blood that oozed out. There was only one thought on her mind, and no matter how hard she tried she couldn't silence it.

The blood of the blessed will conquer all.