CHAPTER 17
***Disclaimer in one
CHAPTER 17
"Well, this is going just spectacularly."
Damas grimaced as he sat in his cell. The guards had chained him up tightly and his ability to move was very limited.
As great of a warrior as he thought he was, even he couldn't get out of several feet of reinforced steel chains. Not to mention the fact that the cell was guarded by 30 men and the door was equipped with a laser cannon in case someone tried to open it without using the proper code.
Yes, Damas was in a fine mess.
"My father is going to kill me," he sighed.
He believed it too. He knew Hordak had very low tolerance for those who could not properly perform their duties. He had been distracted by vengeance and broken one of the most important rules of Horde combat: He let himself be controlled by his emotions.
What really bothered him was what happened upstairs earlier with the guard Captain. Damas frowned. He could have killed him. Worse yet, he had been trained all his life TO kill but he didn't. And it wasn't because that blasted woman stopped him.
No it was something else.
A feeling, like hot lead in his stomach. A burning in his chest. As he held his sword to the other man's throat, he felt strange. Oddly enough, he had felt a similar sensation in the woods when he held that wench witch by the throat.
Before, he dismissed it as apathy. Now, he was concerned. There was something about this place that was doing strange things to him. First the nausea he experienced when he arrived. Then the sudden attack in the marketplace, now this.
He shifted on his cot and the chains rustled around him. Hours had passed. It was probably morning by now. Tomorrow, his father's troops would descend upon Eternia and lay siege to Castle Grayskull.
And he was stuck in a dungeon.
"Blast this place," he thought. "What is happening to me?"
He shut his eyes and tried to meditate on the question. It wasn't long before he was disturbed by the sound of the cell door opening and footsteps entering the small, dank room.
Damas squinted at the light that shone in. After his eyes readjusted, he recognized his visitor.
"What do you want?" he asked scathingly.
Teela nodded to the other guards to leave and shut the door. They obeyed and she turned her attention to the prisoner in front of her.
"I should have killed you upstairs," she hissed.
Damas chuckled and sat up.
"Yes, you should have," he goaded. "You have no idea how humiliating it is to have been captured by a woman."
Teela stared coldly at him and then took a seat on a hay bail on the other side of the cell. She pulled her sidearm again and leveled it at him.
"You tried to murder the king. You are Horde. I would be in my right to kill you." She said flatly.
Damas stood up and walked as close to her as his chains would allow. He glared icily at her and opened his shirt, exposing his muscular, bare chest.
"Then take your shot, madam."
Teela stood and approached him. There was still a little distance between the two of them but their eyes were locked.
She re-holstered her sidearm and folded her arms across her chest. Damas smirked at the movement and returned to his cot.
"I'd take great pleasure in killing you," she replied. "But for some reason, the queen has sought fit to spare you."
Teela had lied about the first part. As it turned out, she had no desire to kill anyone, including this stranger. What was worse: ESPECIALLY this stranger.
She had no idea what it was about him. She was not a superficial person; it was more than his ruggedly handsome appearance. Although seeing his exposed chest just hen sent a wave of tiny tingles up her spine.
There was something else. Something deeper she couldn't quite put a finger on.
For reasons she couldn't fathom, it almost felt like she was connected to him somehow. It bothered her beyond words that she could not figure it out.
And that feeling was showing up in her actions. Part of her wanted to hurt this man for nothing more than his affiliation with the Horde. To make him pay for whatever atrocities he had inflicted on others.
But then there was that other part of her. The part that had grown warm when she had smacked him. Not from the gesture, but merely from the touch of his skin. The same way she had felt in the infirmary when he grabbed her hand. The part of her that wanted him to..
"Why in the blazes would YOUR queen wish to see me?" Damas asked perplexedly, snapping Teela back to reality. "Has she reserved the right to kill me herself?"
Teela motioned for the guards to return. As they entered the room, they grabbed the chains that held Damas and yanked him out of the cell.
"I have no idea what she wants of you stranger," she slighted. "Perhaps, she merely wishes to know the name of her husband's would-be assassin."
A voice in the back of Teela's mind told her that was more HER wish than the queen's.
*******
"So the great general has been captured by Randor's men?"
Skeletor watched the previous events unfold from the Doomseeker. He sat back in his throne and chuckled. Next to him, Evil-Lyn smiled smugly.
"Well, I would think that would hamper his ability to lead the assault on Grayskull."
The evil overlord knew this was his chance. With Damas out of the way, he could lead the attack. With the Horde's manpower along with his own minions at his disposal, there would be nothing to stop him from walking into that cursed castle and finding the hidden power of the elders.
"We must free him from his captors, Skeletor."
The witch's voice was like fingernails on a chalkboard. Skeletor turned his head to find Shadow Weaver in front of him. His empty eye sockets glared red.
"Why!?" he bellowed. "Why should I help free that fool? The great GENERAL got himself into that mess. Let him find a way out of it."
Shadow Weaver waved her hand in the air and an image appeared. An image from the past of her, Hordak and Man-At-Arms. Hordak was carrying an infant. Only rather than the disfigured witch she was now, Weaver was a young, raven-haired woman.
"Do you recognize the past?" she hissed.
Skeletor looked at the image. He looked at Weaver.
"Well, well, well," he chuckled. "Lightspinner. You look horrid."
Weaver's eyes blazed.
"Not me you dolt, the CHILD!" she screeched.
Skeletor looked again. After a few minutes the cloud that had fallen over his mind lifted and he started laughing hysterically.
"Are you saying that the great General Damas, is none other than the long- lost Prince Adam? My gods, what poetic justice!"
The image disappeared. Skeletor's laughter could be heard throughout Snake Mountain. Evil-Lyn however, was less than amused and wrinkled her face as if she had just tasted something bitter.
Weaver seemed to share her sentiment.
"We must get him out of here before he is discovered," she hissed. "I care not about the attack on Grayskull or its power. You can have at it for all I care. But I will not leave this planet with Damas!"
Skeletor's laughter subsided. And for a moment he considered what Weaver was saying. He knew she had always been the most faithful follower of Hordak so it surprised him to know that she would readily betray him or Horde Prime for that matter.
In the end, he cared not. Getting rid of Damas would only be an asset to Skeletor. But he had no intention on sending that foolish young man back to Hordak. Afterall, the kidnapped son of the king would bring quite a ransom.
He knew Randor would give ANYTHING to have his child back. Even his kingdom. He counted on Randor's sentimentality as he began to form a plan.
For now, he would let Weaver believe he was agreeable to her plan. He knew Eternia better than she and he knew exactly how to play the cards.
"Long live the prince," he thought to himself.
***Disclaimer in one
CHAPTER 17
"Well, this is going just spectacularly."
Damas grimaced as he sat in his cell. The guards had chained him up tightly and his ability to move was very limited.
As great of a warrior as he thought he was, even he couldn't get out of several feet of reinforced steel chains. Not to mention the fact that the cell was guarded by 30 men and the door was equipped with a laser cannon in case someone tried to open it without using the proper code.
Yes, Damas was in a fine mess.
"My father is going to kill me," he sighed.
He believed it too. He knew Hordak had very low tolerance for those who could not properly perform their duties. He had been distracted by vengeance and broken one of the most important rules of Horde combat: He let himself be controlled by his emotions.
What really bothered him was what happened upstairs earlier with the guard Captain. Damas frowned. He could have killed him. Worse yet, he had been trained all his life TO kill but he didn't. And it wasn't because that blasted woman stopped him.
No it was something else.
A feeling, like hot lead in his stomach. A burning in his chest. As he held his sword to the other man's throat, he felt strange. Oddly enough, he had felt a similar sensation in the woods when he held that wench witch by the throat.
Before, he dismissed it as apathy. Now, he was concerned. There was something about this place that was doing strange things to him. First the nausea he experienced when he arrived. Then the sudden attack in the marketplace, now this.
He shifted on his cot and the chains rustled around him. Hours had passed. It was probably morning by now. Tomorrow, his father's troops would descend upon Eternia and lay siege to Castle Grayskull.
And he was stuck in a dungeon.
"Blast this place," he thought. "What is happening to me?"
He shut his eyes and tried to meditate on the question. It wasn't long before he was disturbed by the sound of the cell door opening and footsteps entering the small, dank room.
Damas squinted at the light that shone in. After his eyes readjusted, he recognized his visitor.
"What do you want?" he asked scathingly.
Teela nodded to the other guards to leave and shut the door. They obeyed and she turned her attention to the prisoner in front of her.
"I should have killed you upstairs," she hissed.
Damas chuckled and sat up.
"Yes, you should have," he goaded. "You have no idea how humiliating it is to have been captured by a woman."
Teela stared coldly at him and then took a seat on a hay bail on the other side of the cell. She pulled her sidearm again and leveled it at him.
"You tried to murder the king. You are Horde. I would be in my right to kill you." She said flatly.
Damas stood up and walked as close to her as his chains would allow. He glared icily at her and opened his shirt, exposing his muscular, bare chest.
"Then take your shot, madam."
Teela stood and approached him. There was still a little distance between the two of them but their eyes were locked.
She re-holstered her sidearm and folded her arms across her chest. Damas smirked at the movement and returned to his cot.
"I'd take great pleasure in killing you," she replied. "But for some reason, the queen has sought fit to spare you."
Teela had lied about the first part. As it turned out, she had no desire to kill anyone, including this stranger. What was worse: ESPECIALLY this stranger.
She had no idea what it was about him. She was not a superficial person; it was more than his ruggedly handsome appearance. Although seeing his exposed chest just hen sent a wave of tiny tingles up her spine.
There was something else. Something deeper she couldn't quite put a finger on.
For reasons she couldn't fathom, it almost felt like she was connected to him somehow. It bothered her beyond words that she could not figure it out.
And that feeling was showing up in her actions. Part of her wanted to hurt this man for nothing more than his affiliation with the Horde. To make him pay for whatever atrocities he had inflicted on others.
But then there was that other part of her. The part that had grown warm when she had smacked him. Not from the gesture, but merely from the touch of his skin. The same way she had felt in the infirmary when he grabbed her hand. The part of her that wanted him to..
"Why in the blazes would YOUR queen wish to see me?" Damas asked perplexedly, snapping Teela back to reality. "Has she reserved the right to kill me herself?"
Teela motioned for the guards to return. As they entered the room, they grabbed the chains that held Damas and yanked him out of the cell.
"I have no idea what she wants of you stranger," she slighted. "Perhaps, she merely wishes to know the name of her husband's would-be assassin."
A voice in the back of Teela's mind told her that was more HER wish than the queen's.
*******
"So the great general has been captured by Randor's men?"
Skeletor watched the previous events unfold from the Doomseeker. He sat back in his throne and chuckled. Next to him, Evil-Lyn smiled smugly.
"Well, I would think that would hamper his ability to lead the assault on Grayskull."
The evil overlord knew this was his chance. With Damas out of the way, he could lead the attack. With the Horde's manpower along with his own minions at his disposal, there would be nothing to stop him from walking into that cursed castle and finding the hidden power of the elders.
"We must free him from his captors, Skeletor."
The witch's voice was like fingernails on a chalkboard. Skeletor turned his head to find Shadow Weaver in front of him. His empty eye sockets glared red.
"Why!?" he bellowed. "Why should I help free that fool? The great GENERAL got himself into that mess. Let him find a way out of it."
Shadow Weaver waved her hand in the air and an image appeared. An image from the past of her, Hordak and Man-At-Arms. Hordak was carrying an infant. Only rather than the disfigured witch she was now, Weaver was a young, raven-haired woman.
"Do you recognize the past?" she hissed.
Skeletor looked at the image. He looked at Weaver.
"Well, well, well," he chuckled. "Lightspinner. You look horrid."
Weaver's eyes blazed.
"Not me you dolt, the CHILD!" she screeched.
Skeletor looked again. After a few minutes the cloud that had fallen over his mind lifted and he started laughing hysterically.
"Are you saying that the great General Damas, is none other than the long- lost Prince Adam? My gods, what poetic justice!"
The image disappeared. Skeletor's laughter could be heard throughout Snake Mountain. Evil-Lyn however, was less than amused and wrinkled her face as if she had just tasted something bitter.
Weaver seemed to share her sentiment.
"We must get him out of here before he is discovered," she hissed. "I care not about the attack on Grayskull or its power. You can have at it for all I care. But I will not leave this planet with Damas!"
Skeletor's laughter subsided. And for a moment he considered what Weaver was saying. He knew she had always been the most faithful follower of Hordak so it surprised him to know that she would readily betray him or Horde Prime for that matter.
In the end, he cared not. Getting rid of Damas would only be an asset to Skeletor. But he had no intention on sending that foolish young man back to Hordak. Afterall, the kidnapped son of the king would bring quite a ransom.
He knew Randor would give ANYTHING to have his child back. Even his kingdom. He counted on Randor's sentimentality as he began to form a plan.
For now, he would let Weaver believe he was agreeable to her plan. He knew Eternia better than she and he knew exactly how to play the cards.
"Long live the prince," he thought to himself.