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Chapter Fifteen
The lamia went in search of Dr. Vampyr, and her path led through the Librarium Apocalypto.
A huge stinking chamber lay on the far side of the entrance Kahket took. Before her soared a domed ceiling some one-hundred feet above the foundation. Pillars carved to resemble human leg bones supported the roof. Kahket saw these as a symbol of strength but appreciated that others in the world might see them as morbid or even ghoulish. The whole of this mighty room glowed because of chandeliers, which gave off her favorite greenish light. Kahket thought that certain tones of green brought out a lovely hue in her lips and skin. Of course critics the world 'round called the light fixtures ghastly, but Kahket only saw loveliness because they were suspended from cables meant to resemble braids of human hair.
She descended a flight of black marble steps flecked with little bits of silver (so as to resemble a night sky), and when she got to the bottom, she let out a long meaningful sigh, for Kahket stood among the living books. She stretched out her carefully manicured nails to thrum them along the sides of gargantuan iron cauldrons, her black sequin dress making a rattle as she walked in stiletto heels across the floor. Kahket counted twenty or so of these enormous cylindrical vats, all of them skirted on the outside with a copper skin. Within each rested the most obese men and women she had ever seen. These beautiful fleshy creatures had given their vast bodies and souls to the church of Zandine, and the Israfil rewarded them with delicious nourishment made in the many vomitoriums of Zandan's elite.
Tubes that flowed from clear containers holding liquefied food were attached to muzzles where the mouths of the "living books" had been permanently joined so as to avoid spillage. Faces were so overcome in folds of skin that eyes virtually disappeared, the noses were hardly visible.
To be spared the suffering of life to devote one's body to learning brought tears to Kahket's eyes. In fact, just being in the Librarium Apocalypto reminded her of a passage once penned by the great philosopher Vaccino Rimbaldi: A society's greatness is reflected in its decadence for one cannot be truly boundless and avoid the creation of excess. "I am a queen of excess," Kahket said to no one but herself. "Zandans are visionary, and the rest of the world must be made to see this truth."
Kahket paused to admire one of the Living Books. Unable to determine its sex, the thing was covered from head to toe in gorgeous tattoos: inscriptions of the ancient lore of Zanda. Seeing the history of Zanda and her reign in particular, inscribed upon such luxurious skin took her breath away. Its vat had been marked with chalk. This meant it would soon be killed so that its leather could be properly treated and stored on the shelves. Spindly librarians wearing corsets that crushed their waists almost to the spine and with skin stretched tight over bone, worked tattoo needles on all of the "books" sitting next to this one. They added illustrations to support the writing, and they wiped away blood when needed. Kahket frowned at the agony of it all. Beauty did not come easily to some, and people like herself had to work especially hard to obtain it.
"Nothing beautiful is ever comfortable," her mother used to say. "If something is easy, it's not worth having." These idioms were gems of wisdom that she kept close to her heart. It made Kahket glad that Zanda was on the verge of exporting its own brand of beauty to the world (and not a minute too soon because the rest of the world was so ugly). She'd force the heathens to take it by sword point and scourge if so demanded.
I am committed to change, Kahket thought. I am committed to progress.
Kahket felt girls had lost their way as far as idealistic beauty was concerned. Girls needed to have small waists, even if it meant surgically removing ribs to attain this. They needed to have nice round boobs, long hair, and small dainty feet. She would insist that all girls have their feet bound at birth to force them into the correct shape. And women incapable of growing luxurious hair would have options to have fine threads surgically implanted into their scalp. She envisioned a world where even colorful yarn was used, and long lengths of dyed wool would hang over shoulders at salons while people laughed. Kahket's society would be a happy one, and the skin would be cut away from everyone's teeth so that all would grin and the whiteness of the bone could be exposed to the world. No one under the flag of Zanda would ever frown again.
Men would have idealistic standards too. Boys would be stretched on racks to ensure they reached the proper height, and each would be required to work in the mines of Zanda so that they got the right amount of labor to make certain they maintained the appropriate level of muscle. And once men grew old and infirm, she would hasten their journey to heaven by granting them comfortable passage in a gas chamber. Girls on the other hand had a more plausible existence as educators, so they would be kept around much longer. To Kahket, it all sounded like a utopia under her rule. She couldn't wait to make it a reality, but first she would have to deal with the Valion knights. The followers of Thomas were the ones directly responsible for keeping Zanda within its borders, and they even had the nerve to call her people "evil" and "monstrous."
"Oftentimes people don't know what they want until you give it to them," she uttered out loud.
Back from her daydreaming, Kahket noted that the area around her swarmed with flies, and that rats scurried from one pile of feces to another one of old rotting fat. The smell of shit filled her nostrils, pungent and intense.
"This place has the best perfume," she said with whimsy to one of the librarians.
He stopped at his work and looked at Kahket through a thick monocle that appeared to be drilled into his very skull. The flesh had been cut away from his teeth, and when she saw that permanent smile, it warmed her heart "How can the outside world not see the good we do here? Look at how we've addressed your disability. No doubt you had trouble seeing out of that eye...it's lovely." Kahket said to the librarian. "We've made it so that every life is fulfilling and that every task is a happy one."
The librarian just bowed his head, and Kahket continued on her route.
The engineering that went into building this place impressed the Dreaded Irtemara. Long pipes attached to the base of each vat ferried away most of the human waste produced by the Living Books each day. These in turn fed into a central pool that bubbled with brown goo and urine. Something fleshy swam in this tub, Kahket wondered if it was one of the Lemortis Corpiem: one of the "skins that swim."
I'll investigate that later when I have more time, she thought. They make such fun pets.
She found the path to the dungeon and descended a flight of stairs to walk a corridor with many cells. Men behind bars cried out in pain. "Help me," one man pleaded, his eyes missing from his face. Another tried to walk forward on stumps, his legs newly amputated and sewn up. Yet a third was covered in red diseased pustules. Fungus had consumed his genitalia and most of his upper thigh which looked yellow with gangrene. A sign hung on his door indicating that he was "patient twelve beta," and participating in some kind of drug program for a sexually transmitted disease that plagued some Zandans. Kahket nodded in approval.
A cure needs to be found, Kahket thought, but my...has Dr. Vampyr been busy.
She walked into a room thick with heat from many fires. Men whose backs had been flayed to reveal the muscles swung limply from their arms, wrists held tight in iron manacles. Several scriveners sat at desks taking notes for new anatomical tomes.
Very useful, Kahket thought.
Beneath their bare feet blood pooled on the floor. The aroma of death filled every corner of the chamber. Kahket walked up behind three huge individuals: one male, the others female. She knew two as Nevrenachtur Slayers, guests of her husband. These incredibly powerful warriors had obsidian colored skin, and they'd drunk from the blood of Yogwomaryl, the Lord of Chaos, who'd been defeated in the wars of the second age at the cost of a million lives. The last she knew as Nasharwyn, an emerald dragon who liked to walk about in the guise of a humanoid female.
She stopped next to the pair of Nevrenachtur Assassins to look for Dr. Vampyr, and they said nothing other than to acknowledge her presence with a slight turn of the head. Each was a death giant, which meant that they'd undergone a ritual to make them "somewhat" human-sized yet they possessed all the strength and constitution of the death giant that they truly were. In addition, their former self overlaid their present self in a shimmering cloud that muddled their actual location. Nine times out of ten, a melee blow would land on the illusion rather than the real assassin. It also afforded them a reach like that of a death giant, able to smite someone from twenty feet away.
The waspish Dr. Vampyr appeared from around a corner and bowed deeply. The gleam of his scalpel caught the yellow light form a nearby brazier filled with glowing coals. "Dreaded Irtemara. The cleric has given us a full confession."
"Excellent," she said, looking around. "Where is White Wolf Beryl Loftcrag?"
Dr. Vampyr stepped to one side and gestured at several bell jars containing various organs he'd harvested and pickled. In one, she saw a bearded face with eyes sewn shut. In another was his testicles and penis floating in formaldehyde. In a third were fingers and toes, some of which had been sewn together and placed back onto feet and hands for show (and in random order), all meticulously preserved. The things went on and on: nipples, eyes, ears, and even the man's anus floated in a jar and stuffed with a plug of some sort.
"He still lives," the doctor said. "I was waiting to hear from you first, before we incinerated him."
Kahket's eyes looked to where the doctor pointed and saw a table with a pile of quivering skin. Jars to either side of the table held blood which managed to circulate through clear tubes because somehow, the good doctor had kept the cleric's heart beating. She also noted that Beryl Loftcrag's brain appeared to be alive inside a fleshless skull, suspended fully inside a block of brown gelatin.
"This is exceptional work, and I'm certain all of this is being recorded by the scriveners so that none of this knowledge on Valion anatomy is wasted?"
"But of course," the doctor said.
"So what did you learn?" Kahket asked. "And before we go further, I just want to say...you are an artiste, doctor. I'm humbled by your skill."
Dr. Vampyr grinned sheepishly and color flooded his cheeks. "Oh thank you, Dreaded Irtemara. I so did not want to disappoint. I think he screamed in agony the most when I told him I would visit identical procedures upon his friend, Ephram Skye, once he was captured. He pleaded with me, even as I surgically removed his twig and berries, so to speak. I think he was in love. I tried to keep him alive because he was so certain that his soul would go to the god of war in death. I was hoping that you or Zandine might have a way to keep that from happening. Souls are such pesky things, and we can't have them going to our enemy. He's already strong enough, don't you think?"
"Let us not speak of Thomas, here," Kahket said. "My husband is in the `rest of ages,' saving his strength for the battle against the godling. But the sound of his enemy's name will disturb him from his rest."
"Oh I had no idea," Dr. Vampyr said. "I apologize as I meant no offense." Kahket stared at him, and the doctor fidgeted for a moment before clearing his throat to unravel a map. Kahket marveled at how it was so clean of ink stains and even blood drops, especially given the condition of the priest on the table. "The prisoner said while he still had his vocal cords and tongue that the fabled Orb of Winter is secreted in a keep in the northern Icewall Mountains about two month's march from our southern border. It lies on a clandestine highway that requires one to use a vast network of magical corridors built by the ancient dwarves to go through the mountains referred to by many as `impassable.' These huge corridors are a marvel of engineering, and large enough to accommodate a vast host. But their entrance is carefully hidden. Of course, I know how to find it now. The prisoner indicated that one man could ride by horse on this underground highway and reach the other side in just two short days. There's a mechanism of faster travel using magical gates that transform anything that goes between it into fog carried by a sorcerous wind—this mode of travel covers the same ground in a half hour. However, these gates were built a long time ago by ancient Atlantean sorcerers for their dwarven friends, and they're no longer operable. Valion sages studying the magic on the gates say that only a true-blooded Atlantean can operate them. As you well know, that race is extinct.
"Just beyond the exit is a well-traveled and broad highway that wends its way to the south and east. It is patrolled by scouts from a Valion legion stationed at a fork in the road, some six days march from the exit of the underground passage. Along this highway are two garrisons, and each is manned with a dozen men. The bulk of the legion rests and trains in the Keep of Silverhawk located at the fork in the highway here. This is also where the Orb of Winter is kept in a special chamber called the Heart of War. It is guarded by a cibrian golem created by Thomas himself, and it will only recognize one password: a thing known only by the disciple of Thomas' church and one of the Crimson Guard identified as Ser Ephram Skye."
"The one departed from Citadel Raven to rescue White Wolf Beryl Loftcrag," Kahket said. "Pity, it appears he's too late."
The Anatomica of Chagidiel bowed. "Most delightful, oh Dreaded Irtemara. Your wit is as sharp as my scalpel."
"Did you learn anything else?" Kahket asked.
"Our prisoner stressed that the pass is a military secret for the Bakorans. There's a deep water harbor located only a few days march north of the keep in which the orb is kept, hence where the fork in the road takes you. It's where the Bakoran empire keeps half of its naval vessels so that they can be called upon quickly to defend the Sea of Winter or to strike at our shores. The other road goes on and eventually finds its way to the holy city of Citadel Raven. It's a backdoor into the most sacred valley of the Valion lands."
Kahket smiled and she felt her child kick inside her womb. "A master stroke of information, my good doctor," she said, examining the map. "I will discuss all of this with our allies. We will be able to march on this information as soon as my child is born.'
The doctor bowed again. "It will be a pleasure to see Typhon once more, your majesty. It has been a long while, but I'm sure Typhon shall remember me."
"The dragon king never forgets," Kahket said, smiling. "At the head of our army, not even a legion of Valion knights will stand a chance against Typhon the Terrible, much less the walls of the Keep of Silverhawk. I don't care how thick they are. Typhon's breath can destroy anything."
Kahket turned and faced the two gigantic Nevrenachtur Lords, and the female emerald dragon presently in human form. "Cirumoghel," she said, and the eight-foot tall death giant bowed his head toward her. "Mara Kano," she uttered to the other, and she too returned the gesture. Kahket admired Mara Kano's knee high leather boots pulled tight over blue steel armor. Kahket mused that the suit Mara wore must weigh three-hundred pounds. What it would be like to have such strength... They gripped cadels in both of their hands, mighty axes sometimes used to cut elephants in half. "I assume all of you have met Nasharwyn?" At that introduction, the emerald dragon woman bowed her head in reverence. Kahket noted that Nasharwyn's pupils were vertical black slits, and they appeared especially wide here in the dungeon. On her back, two scimitars crossed at the hilt, their individual sheaths bound to her body with leather ties.
"Why are we here, your highness?" Cirumoghel asked. "Your shadow demon was not specific as to the purpose of this meeting."
"I wanted you to hear all of what Dr. Vampyr had to tell us. And now that you know some of what's at stake, I want you to assist me in bringing in the outlaw, Ephram Skye, who you now know is a Crimson Guard."
"You know where he is?" Cirumoghel asked. "Or do I need to find him in the Valion lands?"
"Oh, I know where he will be," Kahket said. "He's somewhere in the countryside, near the Bone Wall I think, and he shouldn't be hard to find because Valions mostly have fair skin. My agent Tomoluk has pledged to bring him to me, and our last communication was too short to provide much detail as to their whereabouts. But I fear the minotaur barbarian may have bit off more than he can chew. We cannot risk that the knight escape our grasp or get lost here in the holy city. He's coming because he believes that his master still lives, which you've seen he does not. We need him alive, because there's not a necromancer in Zanda that has the power to wring secrets from the dead. Pity, but it's true."
"Can you help us narrow down the search area?" Mara Kano asked.
"Yes. I know he'll come through the Bone Wall at some point. I've asked our allies, the Timeron Knights, to send scouts through the Bone Wall to look for them because they have shadow demons that can cover a lot of ground in a short time and have proved useful as couriers. Skellhaundar Romax only gave me twenty of his men for such a mission. That's two per outpost, but I equipped them all with teeth from the ancient Golden Hydra. Half have reported back already. That leaves five that remain silent. One of these keeps on the border knows something but hasn't gotten word back to us by shadow demon yet. I want you to investigate all five."
"What of the shadow demon that Tomoluk sent to you? Why does it not have definitive information about Tomoluk's location at least?" Mara Kano asked.
"Tomoluk didn't send a shadow demon. He has no such servants. It was my personal shadow demon given to me by Ivan Boritsi, the headmaster of the Lianon Pard Academy of Necromancy. The shadow demon got the message from Ivan Boritsi himself. The headmaster has a magical device in his office at the school that allows him to communicate over great distances. I'm not sure how it works."
"Going to five different keeps at the edge of the Bone Wall could take days," Cirumoghel said.
"Not by dragon back," Kahket replied, nodding to Nasharwyn. "You could personally inspect each one and still have half a day remaining were you to take a dragon as your mount."
Mara Kano arched an eyebrow. Her jet black skin and otherworldly eyes made her features difficult to discern in this light.
"Who else knows of this plan?" Cirumoghel asked.
"Do you mean, have I shared it with anyone? No. General Calisto and I have a professional relationship, but I don't tell him everything...especially when it concerns the Orb of Winter. They rightfully fear its power, and I'm afraid that Noremost might express interest in acquiring our super weapon to keep us from challenging them on land and at sea. They especially cannot know we plan to acquire the Valion navy and add it to our fleet. The general might take issue with this. I would hope that you'd see the value of keeping a healthy business partnership between us. I will reward you with twice your pay."
This pronouncement made both Mara Kano and Cirumoghel grin. "Are there any special precautions we should take?"
"Do not underestimate the resourcefulness of Ephram Skye. He's a Valion knight of the highest caliber, and a great warrior despite the fact that he's insane. You should take shackles appropriate to apprehend someone like him...ones made from Abyssal stone come to mind. If he has any companions, you should kill them before you bring him to the city. Ephram's the only one that's important. I will give you a special writ to pass the gates without inspection once you return. Keep Ephram's identity from Skellhaundar Romax and General Calisto at all cost. They must not know he's my prisoner until after I get the password from him and he is a quivering pile of flesh like his master. Then it won't matter if I have their cooperation or not."
"You play a dangerous game," Mara Kano said.
"Politics can be challenging and not everyone is cut out for it," Kahket replied. "That's why some of us must rise to rule the rest."
"What of the minotaur?" Cirumoghel asked.
"Tomoluk's earned a reward, and he's an agent for the school of necromancy as well. Do not harm him but let him accompany the prisoner here. He killed a great enemy for me today," Kahket said. "I think he may even deserve to meet my husband, an honor I'm sure he'll just jump at like so many others."
The two Nevrenachtur lords and Nasharwyn, the emerald dragon, bowed and left Kahket alone to her thoughts. Before she too departed this furnace in the bowels of the palace, Kahket stared at the emaciated form of Dr. Vampyr with admiration. The industrious Anatomica of Chagidiel busied himself with the sharpening of a scalpel, most likely in preparation for yet another fortunate soul who had yet to understand the true nature of beauty. It reminded her of all the detractors over the years that went to war against her, or the voices of those she conquered that fabricated lies about her and branded her a monster.
A visionary is so rarely respected in life, Kahket thought, but that will not be how my story ends.
Chapter Twenty-Seven through Chapter Twenty-Nine are now available to read at http://slckismet.blogspot.com/p/discussion-board-for.html under the label "The Orb of Winter" if you care to read ahead.
Are there any artists out there willing to draw some pics for my story? If so, please email me. There is an "Orb of Winter" map now in both the NEWS section of my website and in the FORUMS of my website.
If you go to my website directly from this posting, you will want to begin with "CHAPTER ELEVEN" in the forums.