The Sin War Box Set: Birthright, Scales of the Serpent, and The Veiled Prophet (21 page)

Mendeln gestured and the torso also turned to join him.

“Wait!” called Achilios, leaping forward. Throwing down his bow, he seized Serenthia’s bleeding head and rushed after Mendeln. “Wait!”

Uldyssian attempted to follow, but for him the battling legions would not make room. The winged warriors and their bestial adversaries pressed tight against one another, yet, despite heavy losses on both sides, the numbers seemed undiminished. An endless flow of replacements continued to come, filling the world to overflowing.

There was no longer even a hint of the paradise that had once stood all around Uldyssian. The ground was a blazing slaughterhouse, the sky burnt and smoke-ridden.

Then, when he had nearly given up hope, he heard Lylia’s voice call to him. Desperately he looked around for her, at last spotting the noblewoman—her finery gleaming—gliding toward him from across the carnage. The battle did not touch Lylia in the least; in fact, the combatants seemed eager to be out of her way. She ran directly into Uldyssian’s arms, holding him as tight as he held her.

“Lylia…” he gasped, relieved beyond belief. “Lylia…I thought I’d lost you, too…”

“But you will never be without me, my love, never…” she cooed, holding him tighter yet. Her face was planted in his chest. “We are bound to each other forever…”

Grateful, Uldyssian leaned down to kiss her. Lylia raised her face to his—

Choking, he tried in vain to disengage from the noblewoman, but Lylia’s embrace was unbreakable. Uldyssian stared in horror as her mouth moved closer to his.

“Will you not kiss me, my love?” she asked with a smile…a smile filled with sharp teeth. Her eyes had no pupils, merely a sinister shade of crimson covering the entire area under the lids. Her skin was scaled and her ears beneath her hair long and pointed. That hair still hung long, but now consisted of harsh quills colored emerald green.

Despite the macabre changes, there was that about her that still filled Uldyssian with desire, a desire so deep that it frightened him. The grand dress that she had worn was gone, utterly gone, and although similar scales covered her flesh, they did not hide what the human garments had often hinted of.

“No!” he blurted, shoving her back with all his might. “No!”

Lylia laughed at his antics. Her tail, which ended in three daggerlike projections, slapped merrily against the bloody soil. She took a step back on hooved legs like those of the goats Uldyssian had kept on the farm and displayed herself fully for his wide eyes.

“Am I not everything you dreamed? Am I not all you desire?” The demonic woman laughed again and even though that laugh sent chills through the hapless farmer, it also heightened his desire for her. “Come, my love,” Lylia continued, her clawed hands inviting him toward her. “Come…you are mine, body and soul, soul and body…come to me…”

As she said this, the armies suddenly halted their struggle and turned to face Uldyssian. They marched slowly toward him, their steps matching the rhythm of Lylia’s voice.

“…body and soul…soul and body…body and—”

With a wordless cry, Uldyssian woke up. He twisted to the side to find Lylia stretched over him, her face—her beautiful face—filled with concern.

“Uldyssian, my love! Are you ill?”

“I saw—the others—you—” Planting his face in his hands, he slowly pulled himself together. “I dreamed…dreamed. That’s all. Nothing but a bad dream.”

“A nightmare?” Lylia reached a smooth—unclawed—hand to his cheek. Uldyssian instinctively flinched, recalling her appearance in the vision. “And what a horrible nightmare it must have been,” she added. “if it makes you so afraid of me!”

“Lylia…I’m sorry.”

She shook her head, letting her loose blond hair cascade around her naked form. Even shadowed by the darkness, she was arresting. Desire again filled Uldyssian and the foul dream began to slip into forgetfulness.

Snaking her delicate arms around him, Lylia whispered, “Let me help ease your mind, let you see that you have nothing to fear from me…”

“Lylia, I—”

“Hush!”

Their lips met and stayed that way until Uldyssian was well out of breath. As he inhaled, the noblewoman giggled, a sound not only extremely pleasant, but not at all like the seductive yet mocking laughter of the nightmare.

“And that is just for the beginning, I promise you.” Her hands caressed his arms, ran over the hair on his chest, and worked their way down.

The last vestiges of the dream faded. With a playful growl, Uldyssian lunged forward and filled his arms with her. The two of them rolled to the other side, where the son of Diomedes worked relentlessly to make certain that no memories of the vision would ever return…

When Uldyssian again slept, it was in a mood that could only bring to him enjoyable dreams, not nightmares. With lusty snores, he lay on his stomach, one arm draped casually over Lylia.

But Lylia did not sleep. Lying on her back, she stared without blinking at some place in her own memory, a place far from the bed and Uldyssian.

There were many among Humanity who believed that dreams were portents and Lylia knew that they were not far from the truth. Dreams
could
be portents; she knew that better than most. Throughout their lovemaking, Lylia had managed to gather little snippets that Uldyssian did not even realize he mentioned. Those combined to create a vision that had caused her at one point to nearly forget herself. Fortunately, her powers had quickly healed what would have under other circumstances left the farmer with a deep and hideous scar on his back.

Yes, dreams could be portents and there was that possible aspect to Uldyssian’s. However, there was another reason for them, one that concerned Lylia far more.

Dreams—and nightmares, especially—could be
warnings,
too.

Lylia knew just what those warnings concerned. What she did not know was the source. She had done her utmost to veil her presence to those who would recognize it. To be sure, they now had their suspicions, but they, too, had to tread carefully. To not do so would reveal the entire situation to the High Heavens. No one, not even
he,
desired them to discovery Sanctuary’s existence.

Which still left her at the advantage, at least as far as she could see.

But this dream continued to disturb her. It did not sound like an attempt by any of those who would seek to prevent her from fulfilling her goal…yet, what else could it be?

It does not matter,
she told herself. She was mistress of this situation. She was the one who had awakened the power of the nephalem in the fool beside her and through him she would raise it up in
every
mortal possible. Nothing would stand in her way.

And if Uldyssian ul-Diomed failed at some point to remain a docile puppet, then Lylia would simply
kill
him and find another dupe. After all, there were so
many
men…

Four more days passed in Partha, days in which Uldyssian became ever more comfortable with his surroundings. Kehjan remained a focus of the future, but that future stretched further ahead with each passing day.

In addition to the townsfolk, others from the farmlands and smaller communities within a day’s ride began filtering in, the news spread to them by those who had already been touched. Naturally, Uldyssian greeted each newcomer and did what he could. Although progress was slow, at least now he had proof that what he had told them was true; in addition to Romus, nearly two dozen others had manifested some sign of powers. Those signs varied wildly, from healing minor injuries or causing flowers to blossom to a child’s sudden ability to call birds to her hand. No two were exactly the same. That in itself fascinated Uldyssian further and he spent some of his time trying to decipher why what worked for one did not for another.

He suffered no repeat of the nightmare and, with matters demanding so much of him, soon even forgot it. Meanwhile, the ranks now swelled in another, unexpected manner. Partha was a trading town and so visitors and merchants en route elsewhere would stop there on a daily basis. They could not help but be swept up in the excitement going on all around them and many who came merely out of curiosity left touched by Uldyssian. Not all did, of course, even as not all in Partha had yet. However, the reluctant shrank in numbers with each new “miracle,” such as the elderly man whose daughter healed his failing vision, initially without even realizing it. Again, it was an act she could not repeat, but Uldyssian could not help thinking that many more were on the threshold of joining him.

Despite the monumental change going on inside them, most of the townsfolk tried to continue their normal lives. What else
were
they supposed to do? Crops still had to be harvested and children fed. Master Ethon freely admitted that he enjoyed his own work, especially since the death of his wife several years earlier and the departure of his two older sons for Kehjan the season before.

In fact, it was because of that enjoyment that he had to abandon his guests come the following evening. “I will be apologizing to you, good Uldyssian, for my absence tonight. An old friend and fellow merchant would have me visit his caravan to show me some of his latest items! Like me, he had been touched, but, also like me…well, he, too, is a merchant at heart!”

“There’s no need to apologize, Master Ethon. You’ve been more than generous. You’ve done so much.”

“I? I?”
The older man laughed. “Oh, Uldyssian, you are likely the most
humble
person I’ve ever known!
I’ve
done so much! You’ve merely altered forever the lives of everyone here!”

Ethon left still laughing and with Uldyssian feeling somewhat embarrassed.

Lylia later sought to sooth Uldyssian’s feelings. “You should be full of cheer! You are just being yourself, my love! Nothing to be ashamed about!” She kissed him. “But it is true, you are wonderfully humble, considering the truth.”

“Perhaps…” He suddenly felt restless. “I need to walk.”

“Where shall we go?”

His discomfort increasing, Uldyssian replied, “I’d like to walk alone, Lylia.”

“In Partha?” She sounded amused. “I daresay you will not get very far, dear Uldyssian, but I shall let you try. I wish you the best of luck.”

He knew what she meant. The moment even one person sighted him, a crowd would form as if by magic. Still, nighttime was his best opportunity. Most people would have by now returned to their homes. The inns and taverns would still be open, but Uldyssian intended to avoid those areas.

“I’ll just walk down the street to the right side of the estate, then probably return right after that.”

“Poor Uldyssian! You do not have to tell me everything you do!” Lylia gave him another, lengthier kiss. “I wish you a relaxing excursion!”

From anyone else, he would have thought such a reply hinting of mockery, but from her Uldyssian sensed only concern and love. Not for the first time did he think how fortunate he had been to find her. It was almost as if Fate had planned it.

With yet an even more passionate third kiss, he left her in Master Ethon’s study. Uldyssian was tempted to first locate his brother, but suspected that, as in previous tries, he would not find Mendeln around. While everything else seemed to be coming together, Mendeln and he continued to grow more distant from one another. What made the situation worse was that the few times when Uldyssian might have been able to talk with his sibling, he was without exception interrupted by new supplicants. Unwilling to turn down such requests, he had let the precious chances slip away.

But there’s got to come a time
. Mendeln was not well. Uldyssian felt certain of that. The younger brother was hiding something important. What it was, perhaps only Achilios knew, but the hunter was also good at being absent when Uldyssian sought to confront him. Even Serenthia’s presence at the gatherings did not seem to keep Achilios nearby.

Not for the first time, Uldyssian swore to himself that all that would change as soon as possible. Somehow, he would find out the truth. For now, though, he needed to clear his own head and relax.

The night air helped him almost immediately. As he reached the outer gates, Ethon’s men silently saluted him. Like so many, they had experienced the awakening within, but still felt most comfortable keeping their normal routine. Fortunately, they also already knew to respect Uldyssian’s privacy.

“I won’t be long,” he told them.

“As you wish, Master Uldyssian. We will be here for you when you return.”

He had given up trying to make them or anyone else cease calling him by such a title. Better that, at least, than being declared a “holy one” or the like, as some still did.

He chose the least lit avenue and quickly headed into it. The darkness comforted him, its shadowy veil giving Uldyssian a sense of anonymity that he truly needed at the moment. He began to think of his farm, surely either in utter disarray or in the hands of some opportunistic neighbor who had recognized the value of its soil. Uldyssian hoped that at least someone had taken care of the animals properly.

Faint voices warned him of someone coming from the other direction. Preferring to be alone, Uldyssian turned down an even darker side street and hurried off before the others would see him. What little he could make out of the tone of conversation indicated that they were merely two members of the Partha Guard making their rounds, but even they represented too much interaction with the townsfolk at this point.

Uldyssian had no idea where the new street went, but its seductive solitude was enough to keep him on it for some distance. The voices soon faded behind him. He began to relax as not even sleep could help him do. For the first time since before the calamity in Seram, the son of Diomedes felt like an ordinary man again.

Then, another voice, this one whispering, caught his attention. Uldyssian looked to the left, where he thought the source lay.

But from his right came a second whisper. Like the first, it was just low enough to be unintelligible. There was something about its tone, however, that raised his hackles.

“Who’s there?” Uldyssian called. “Who’s there?”

From the left, the first voice began anew. Wasting no more breath, Uldyssian leapt toward the sound…but his groping hands found only shadow.

A
third
voice came from somewhere ahead. With a growl, Uldyssian whirled in that direction…and once more nothing of substance could be found.

Carefully, he retreated several steps, then glanced over his shoulder. There should have been some glimpse of another street a short distance back, but Uldyssian saw only darkness.

Suddenly,
all
the voices renewed their mad muttering. Worse, now they were quickly joined by several more, all speaking in the same intense tone that set Uldyssian’s nerve on edge. He spun around in a circle, seeking either one of the speakers or an exit, but finding neither.

“Show yourself, damn it!” he finally shouted. “Show yourself!”

He tried to summon the power to his command…and failed. Trying a different tack, Uldyssian specifically imagined bright illumination—the better to ferret out his stalkers—or even some great wind that would carry him away from this area. Yet, these, too, came to nothing.

Nothing…

One voice suddenly seemed to come from right by his ear. He started to turn toward it…and a thick limb from the opposing direction wrapped around his throat.

Choking, Uldyssian struggled to free himself from whatever had snared him. He could not even tell if it was an arm or some sort of tentacle, only that its grip was stronger than iron.

As the lack of air took its toll on him, Uldyssian’s thoughts went to Lylia. He could only assume that this attack had to do with Malic and so he feared that the high priest would next go after her. Yet, even that concern did not give him the might to escape—

Then, from out of nowhere there came a hiss, followed by a snarl like that from the throat of a foul beast. At the same time, some instinct took over in Uldyssian. Every muscle in his body tensed.

The air rippled. A guttural exclamation filled the night, followed immediately by a crash.

The tightness around Uldyssian’s throat vanished, along with it the insidious whispering. Suddenly, there was only the sound of him trying to catch his breath, that, and the soft padding of swift boots.

“Uldyssian!” came a voice very familiar to him. “Uldyssian! I thought I saw…damn! I don’t know
what
I saw…”

But, despite that little obstacle, Achilios had evidently managed a masterly shot. In the blackness, it could have just as easily been Uldyssian whom he hit and certainly that would have been a high probability had it been any other archer. However, Uldyssian knew his childhood friend’s skill well and so understood that his life had never been in danger, at least from an arrow.

“Th-Thank you…” he gasped.

Achilios, bow over his shoulder, helped Uldyssian straighten. “Don’t thank me for anything. I’m sorry I didn’t manage to kill whatever had you…though I’m damned if I know why not! I had it or him right where the back of the neck should’ve been! If it was an assassin, he should lie dead at our feet right now.” Making certain that Uldyssian could stand on his own, the hunter knelt. A moment later, Achilios muttered, “There’s something here, but it doesn’t feel like
blood
. Not fresh, anyway. Couldn’t be from your attacker…”

Recalling all too well the sort of fiends that had been so far thrown against him, Uldyssian was not so certain. For the moment, though, he would trust Achilios’s knowledge.

Rising, the lithe figure rushed off in the direction of the crash. A minute later, Achilios returned, what little was visible of his expression revealing his disgruntlement.

“Something heavy struck the side of that building,” he said, gesturing at the darkness from which he had come. “Cracked it good…but whatever it was got up right after and ran off.”

That, too, did not surprise Uldyssian. Malic would have sent servants far more capable than the previous ones. They had planned their little trap better this time, waiting for him to venture out on his own. The high priest had read him well. He had known that his prey would eventually seek private time.

Then it occurred to him to wonder just what the archer was doing here, too. Uldyssian had long given up believing in coincidence.

But before he could ask, Achilios said, “I’d suggest we leave this area for somewhere a little more populated. You might enjoy your privacy, but surely not
that
much, anymore.”

With a nod, Uldyssian followed his friend back the way they had come. Achilios apparently could see in the dark much better than him. The hunter soon had them back in the vicinity of Master Ethon’s house. Only then did both pause to breathe normally.

“Much better,” commented the blond man.

“Thank you again,” Uldyssian returned. “Now tell me how you happened to be right there when I needed your help.”

Achilios cocked his head. “And why
did
you need my help, Uldyssian? What happened to you back there?”

Uldyssian would not let the questioning turn to him, not just yet. “Answer me, Achilios.”

There was a long hesitation, then, “I
thought
you were going to be in danger.”

His phrasing left Uldyssian puzzled. “What do you mean?”

“I just had a feeling that something was going to happen and so I followed a hunch. That’s all.”

“And managed to follow it all the way to where I was.”

The archer shrugged. “It’s nothing new. Just an instinct, Father would’ve said.” Achilios’s father had been a hunter like him, one whose reputation had never been dwarfed until his own son. “What makes me a good hunter, I guess.”

But Uldyssian was thinking that it was much more than merely an instinct. He refrained from saying anything, yet suspected that Achilios had turned the very same gift that Uldyssian carried into something honed to his particular talents. More to the point, it was possible that the archer’s family had been doing so for at least two generations.