And here I am with chapter 26 for you guys... we're getting closer to the end! Am so happy that so many people reviewed the last chapter, thanks guys!
05.09.2005: Answers to reviews removed. See chapter 3 for details.
Current Music: Inchtabokatables – "Too Loud". Great German/English Industrial-Folk-Sound! Best Song: "You Chained Me Up". AND the new Nightwish-Single "Nemo"... yeah! And soon, the new album is out, and in August, I'm finally gonna see them in concert... yay for me!
DISCLAIMER: I don't own any part of David Eddings' worlds and characters, and I do not make a profit off this fic.
CHAPTER 26
Two days after Zalasta's demise, seagulls brought with them the salty air of the Sea of Zemoch. Dark clouds covered up the bright blue autumn sky, yet the stony plateau on which they were moving towards the northwestern-most corner of the Eosian continent – the place where their enemy was already waiting for them. Tension forced the group into silence,and they were scanningthe area with all their senses for another unpleasant surprise from the Elder God they would soon face.
Little did they know that Zoltach had indeed readied his refuge for their arrival; magical barriers radiated as far as a league from the lighthouse ruin he resided in, carefully concealed so that nobody would feel them in advance – they would stun the two Younger Gods and, at the same time, make sure that their human friends couldn't help him. Once the mortals were caught safely in the spider's web of magical energy, Zoltach would rip open the barriers between the worlds, forcing all energy out of the other realm, just like a mortal forces the last drop of juice out of a lemon – and then, he would finally reach his goals of getting rid of the other Gods and ruling this world as The God.
Zoltach's gleeful cackle resounded in the round chamber, enclosed by dark, damp stone. They would pay for opposing him – everybody would! Upon touching the barrier, they would meet their greatest fears, and when they succumbed to them, he would be able to feed on their souls, making him only stronger. No mercy, no forgiveness...
"We are almost there. The energy converges a little more than a league directly in front of us," Dorgatan informed Belgarath quietly as they rode along the stony path.
The old sorcerer's bushy brows met above his nose in a frown.
"I can't believe he doesn't send out any other forces against us, if we're already that close... something isn't right here."
Sir Ulath, who had heard what Belgarath had said, shrugged. He seemed to be the least nervous person of the whole group.
"Maybe he is like Azash – he doesn't really believe that anybody can oppose him. Or maybe he just ran out of followers and mercenaries."
Dorgatan shook his head.
"Zoltach is not nearly as self-absorbed as Azash, which is why I can't believe we have not seen any more opposition since Anakha disposed of the renegades. And Zoltach does not run out of followers that easily – he would send his personal creatures against us, and those are to Zalasta's demons what wolves are to puppies. No, Ulath, he plans something, and he will use it here very soon..."
He did not have a chance to elaborate any further; suddenly, both he and Zandail stiffened and ceased to move. Aphrael, as well, stared ahead from atop Sephrenia's palfrey unseeingly. And before any of them, even Sparhawk, could react, blackness enclosed each one of them individually, severing their line of sight, bearing down on them...
... Bevier opened his eyes. The plateau of Vileta was gone. In its stead, he beheld the interior of the Basilica of Chyrellos in all its splendor. In front of him, Archprelate Dolmant sat on his throne, his face serious. Was it true? Was the archprelate truly God's speaker? Was he dead, and would ascend to heaven for a life of devotion to the Elene faith? There, Sarathi finally started to speak. Surely he would... what? No! There had to be a mistake!
"Sir Bevier, I hereby strip you of your position as preceptor of the Cyrinic Knights, and excommunicate you from Our Holy Mother Church, in whose name you have committed the most atrocious sins. The Arcian King will take the royal titles and all belongings away from your family to repay your countless victims. Leave now. The moment you set foot out of Chyrellos, you will be hunted down and killed as a common criminal, so if you want to keep your hide, leave for Daresia as fast as possible. Now go. Do not defile this holy building with your presence anymore."
And the patriarchs turned away from Bevier, their faces distorted with disgust, while the former Cyrinic could not fully stifle a sob filled with confusion and frustration...
... Tynian opened his eyes, wishing the merciful unconsciousness had lasted longer. He felt himself sinking deeper and deeper into the quicksand bog he was standing in. The safe ground was too far away to grasp, even if he still had the ability to move his arms. The heavy Alcione armor forced his body into the sand faster and faster, the sand filling his mouth already, working itself up to the nostrils...
... When Ulath's eyes snapped open, he knew at once that he was running for his life. He had been out in the woods of Thalesia, alone – what foolishness had made him forget the simplest safety precautions, he did not know. Movement in the thickets in front of him told him that he had lost the race. He was surrounded.
As he had expected, a large Troll sow and her two young stepped into his way. Behind him, the mate came to a halt by anchoring his large hands to two young firs. He started talking in Troll, trying to talk his way out of the desolate situation, when he felt a grip of steel around his knee. It was over.
The large Troll male ripped his left leg out of its hip socket. The pain was unbearable. Ulath screamed while gnawing sounds indicated that the trollish feast had begun, with him as main course...
... Khalad woke from brief unconsciousness, to be filled with terror at the sight he had to accept as the truth: He was lying on the ground, not far from the farm house near Demos he used to live in before he had gone to serve Sir Sparhawk. The house was gone; in its place, smoke rose from a smoldering ruin. They had come at night – plunderers always do. They had stolen everything, torched the fields. But that had not been enough for the men; instead of leaving the family poor, yet unharmed, they had raped and killed the women, simply beaten the boys (because that was what they were, just boys) to death, and gone their way. Khalad had tried to stop them, but he had been only one man, only one man...
... Vanion woke up in the past. He relived the journey of the Church Knights to Daresia. Everything went just fine... until Zalasta's bastard son Scarpa kidnapped Queen Ehlana out of the castle in Matherion. Confused and desperate, Sparhawk surrendered the Bhelliom to Zalasta, hoping that the stone would smite him, but that did not happen. Zalasta learned how to use the Bhelliom, and his first action as the mightiest man on this world, naturally, was to obtain Sephrenia, the prize he had sought ever since he was but a child in a muddy village called Ylara. Bhelliom's magic then turned Vanion into a living marble statue – stiff, cold, unable to cry out his rage and anguish as he stood in the bedroom of Zalasta's palace at Sarsos, having to watch again and again how the woman who had once loved him bestowed her favor upon one who forced her to do so by means of magic...
... Sephrenia heard jeering and mocking laughter when she opened her eyes. She had been brought back to the familiar market place of Sarsos. A magical barrier kept her from moving more than a few steps into any direction, but it did not take her long to figure out what was happening. The current representative of The Thousand let his voice rise over the general noise:
"Vanion the Elene, who has lived among us here in Sarsos for a short time, has been found guilty of heinous crimes. As he is of the Elene race, he shall be punished in an Elene manner: He shall be ripped apart by four wild horses, who shall be attached to his extremities. Should he still be alive after this procedure, he will be stoned to death. Proceed."
Loud applause drowned out Sephrenias screams, her question what kind of crimes her husband had committed. Then, a ripping, breaking noise sounded from the center of the market place, and the Styric woman forced herself to keep from vomiting...
... Polgara had finally arrived in the Vale again, after a long journey of hardship and danger. How good it was to be home! She would finally meet Durnik, her husband, and the twin boys again! Her feet carried her over the grassy Algarian plain, to the east, toward her cottage at the border of the Vale of Aldur. But then, she stopped dead in her movements, stunned to see what had happened to her homestead while she had been away.
The house was overgrown with vines. No birds sang close to it, no deer grazed nearby. And in front of the house, Beltira and Belkira stood, their heads bowed, clearly in mourning. When Polgara stepped closer, Beltira was the first to notice her.
"Child, welcome home... we are so sorry... they contracted one of the most virulent forms of plague, and they did not know how to heal it. When we had found out about it, it was already too late..."
Belgarath's daughter stared at them, not understanding what her uncles were saying. "Where is Durnik? Where are my boys? Where..." Then, it came to her, the knowledge of what had happened, and she fell to her knees and began to weep...
... Belgarath, the big grey wolf, and his mate Poledra ran through the lush green woods of their world, hunting for food, and for the joy of hunting. Their long strides perfectly matched as they bounded along side by side. How nice it would be to catch a rabbit, or a deer, and share it with the woman he loved.
Suddenly, his sharp ears picked up the rough sound of breathing not far behind them – and it came closer quickly. Irrational fear grew in him, and he struggled to run along even faster than he already was. His mate looked at him, tongue lolling out in laughter – didn't she hear that something big was on their trail, came closer and closer?
But then, it was already too late. An Eldrak broke out of the trees behind them, his big club bearing down on Poledra, who realized the danger too late. The heavy blunt weapon cracked her skull, smashed her bones, pounded her into the ground. The Eldrak had killed her.
Belgarath changed back into human shape, rage burning within him. He drew in energy from his surroundings, ready to tell the monster to "be not"...
... Sparhawk, rejoicing in the fact that he had finally found the Bhelliom, strode into the throne room of the castle in Cimmura, to finally free his Queen out of the crystal in which she was encased. Sephrenia, pale and sickly-looking, stumbled along behind him, held up by a pair of Pandions. Each of the other people who had originally enclosed her had died – Sephrenia was the only one left. Just a few more doors... a few more steps.
The party finally arrived at the large double doors in front of the throne room, and Sparhawk opened the door, just to hear the last rattling breath of life escaping Sephrenia's mouth. He saw the crystal vanish, heard the heartbeat of his beloved Queen become irregular... he started running, maybe it was not yet too late... But it was. Halfway through the large room, he heard the beating of her heart, magically amplified, cease. His Queen had died, his quest had been for nothing, and Annias would soon rule the Elene Church...
"No!"
Sparhawk looked around, into faces startled by the one word he had uttered softly. He smiled at them, shook his head.
"A very nice show, Zoltach. But I know for a fact that my wife is safely at home. I don't buy it. Now, you might as well stop trying to deceive us, because whether you like it or not, I am coming for you!"
The throne room, his friends, reality itself seemed to splinter into thousands of shards around him. He found himself back at the plateau in northern Zemoch, confused stares directed at him and each other by the other members of the group. Not a few of these faces showed the dried and slightly puffed-up traces of tears.
Anakha smiled at his travelling companions.
"A barrier of illusion. Had we all succumbed to it, Zoltach would have won. But the barrier is broken, the way is free. Let us face the Snake God now, so that we may destroy him."
He pointed to the northwest, where a ruin of black granite stood on the cliffs towering over the Sea of Zemoch. They had finally reached their goal.
Here one giant chapter for you – sorry it took me so long to write it! Hope you enjoy, comments appreciated! Not much left to write... 3 more chapters, and we're done here!