The Kingdoms of Evil (41 page)

"Nekht, boia.
" she said. They are not here, boy.

And the high maiden had remarked that Selene and Istain hadn't had sex yet. That was obvious, since Selene still had her powers. But she certainly acted like she
planned
to have sex. Why? Did she want children? But Selene was way too young to start a family, and why choose
Istain,
of all people, to be the father? No, romance with Istain didn't make sense, but if Selene had some
other
sort of goal…

Istain's eyes were narrowed, his shoulders stooped and his neck stuck out belligerently at the High Maiden. "Selene," he said, "you can tell her high holy virgin-ness that I am a
Rationalist
subject and—"

"Multith!"
The High Maiden passed her hand through the air and Istain's voice was lost in a rush of noise like the sea in a storm. The rest of the camp—the people, horses, and other tents—blurred, as though seen through a waterfall. It certainly shut Istain up, but why had the High Maiden Kadene had cast a Craft of Concealment around them?

The High Maiden spoke again.

"She says," translated Selene, "that Istain should not worry. His superior should not worry, too. He
will
follow his Rationalist orders. He will travel to the Kingdoms of Evil."

Her eyes turned to Madene, and the High Maiden spoke again.

"And Madene will be…honored more than any foreign maiden. Because she will…accompany Istain as his…" Selene faltered, "his conscience—oh!"

Selene gasped, and Madene's considerations shattered in her shock.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Istain would have gone on, but Madene cut him off.

"
Tú…
simh…cais simh, go…mogaim…
stink it,
dhéos…
Selene, tell her she said I could stay here!"

Selene said nothing, but the High Maiden evidently understood Madene's broken Maidenspeak, for she inclined her regal head. "
Déa, cait mé iató
." Yes, I did say that.

"But
I
have to go to Skrea," Istain insisted, as if the High Maiden hadn't already promised that he would. "I'm not one of your subjects, lady. In fact, I'm the focus of
a lot
of international attention. And if you don't want your virgin ass defiled by the
tanks
my nation has lined up on your border, you'll keep your glowy hands off me."

"Istain…" Selene moaned. And Madene understood. Selene was a spy for the Warrior Maidens. The same way Madene was a spy for the Rationalist Union.

Kadene was speaking to Istain. "
Rémhudi
!" She demanded. Translate!

Selene's face was still blank, but her body shook as she translated. "She says it will become clear," Her voice was blank, as numb as if stricken by the spine of an earth urchin, "and she says, Istain please run away now. She says, run, run away now. Istain, listen to me and run."

Madene jerked around to stare at Selene. The betrayal was happening.
Right now!

"No, Istain!" She said, but as soon as she did she knew he would never listen. Istain's expression had collapsed into thin horizontal lines, mouth, eyes, eyebrows. He was about to do something stupid.

A blast of Maidencraft propelled Madene across the interior of the tent. Before Istain could blink, her arms had closed over his torso.

"
Nic
!" Selene wheeled and leapt for her, blade flashing out. Shocked, Madene could only watch as the other woman's face rushed toward her.

Then the High Maiden swept out her arms, and Selene was struck down in a welter of white flame. The blurred walls around them shimmered as Selene fell and Madene heard a sickening crack. Istain surged forward, but her Craft-enforced arms easily held him. Then Selene's wail become words.

"Nic, Modeuichegh!"
The traitorous Warrior Maiden screamed, "
Prósnigh mé ort!!
" Then, in Rationalist, "Istain, run! Madene, let him go!
DeDébhegh pómaigi mé
please, Madene!"

"
Bigí multa, dheca.
" The high Maiden snapped, then raised her arms again. "
I smotraint ar an Roesethe Arideuchsteanneo.
"
Be silent, child. And watch the Virgin Rebirth.

Istain was screaming curses at her, struggling with all his strength, but the strength of a man was nothing compared to that of a Warrior Maiden. "Istain!" She said. "Just stop for a second! Selene's a spy! I'll explain---"

"Of course she is!" Istain snarled. "A spy for
our
side!"

"Run! Both of you!" Selene spun off the ground again. Her left arm hung loosely from her shoulder, but with her other she reached for her sword—

The High Maiden laughed. She was saying something to Selene, but there was a rushing in Madene's ears was back, and she couldn't make out the words. She could only look as the High Maiden's eyes flared silver light.

Madene shut her eyes against the glare.

***

Freetrick shut his eyes and reached for both acting skills and the energy from his breakfast rat.

A blast of cold air that washed over the Audience Pit. The assembled rulers of Skrea, Sangboire, and St'tdrakh looked upward at their Ultimate Fiend as he rose above the Skull Throne in a spreading blot of black mist.

"
SILENCE, FOOLS!
"

They wanted loud? He would deafen them. They wanted growly? He would make the blackest of panthers look like the fuzziest of baby chipmunks.

"O
r by the tempest that writhes above me I shall pluck out your eyeballs with my teeth and stuff them, pulsating, down your throats!"

They wanted Evil? He would give them Evil.

"In point of fact," a voice ventured from the nobles below, "eyeballs do not pulsate. This I know for---"

The man's words died as Freetrick looked at him.

The Ultimate Fiend's white-slitted black eyes slid toward Bloodbyrn. Her he hand was outstretched, bosom heaving, a look of shock on her face.

No more games. Freetrick would run this place or die. That was obvious. "Hear me now,
parasites
," he growled, "The Kingdoms of Evil shall be molded into an image of
my
choosing."

"But, my lord…" DeMacabre was mouthing frantically at him. Freetrick considered a necromantic wall of force to push the air out from around DeMacabre's mouth and shut him up. It would probably get him in trouble. Still, though, he was sure he could do it…the death energy in his belly rose, and his fingers twitched.

"You wanted a king." The Despot of Skrea said with a rumble as of thunder. "Now you have one." Lightning cracked through the cloud over him. "
Now bow to me, minions, or perish
!"

And they did.

"Hail Feerborg, the Ultimate Fiend," DeMacabre cried, "direct us, oh Master of Misery!" The wave of supplication began with DeMacabre and spread around the Audience Pit as Dark Lords, Ignobles, and Princes, all lowered their heads to their Ultimate Fiend.

Who smiled. "Excellent. Now. You!" he pointed at random, "you're responsible for collecting taxes. I want a full report of every province in Skrea, Sangboire, and Strakh of population, production, and current collection strategy,
and
a plan from you on how to improve it."

Freetrick spun in the air, his eyes cracked with lightning, his teeth gleaming white in the darkness of the Audience Pit. "You! Congratulations, you're the new Minister of Agriculture. Put together a plan to increase food production and standardize distribution by
tomorrow."

"Fiend," he had pointed at a weasely little Sangboise noble, "I cannot---"

"Oh can't you? Then I'll feed you to someone who can." Snarled Freetrick. "Tomorrow. You! Military! You! Law! Reports on the current situation, risk assessments, historical problems and how you solved them. Send them to my secretary. You." He pointed somewhere else. "Find me a banker, a general, and a lawyer." Freetrick thought for a moment, "Good ones." He thought for a further moment, "Who aren't going to try to murder me. If they do, I'll kill them, raise their bodies as a zombies, and have them eat you. Clear?"

That brought a smile and a sharp bow. "Fiend."

"Good. Go, then. Do it."

As the stunned silence deepened in the Audience Pit, Freetrick allowed himself to sink back into his throne. Bloodbyrn hastily scrambled out of his way. Her eyes were strangely large and luminous in the gloom. Freetrick blinked and looked away.

"And from the rest of you," he addressed his subjects, "I want each of you to give me a list of your personal staff here at Clouds-Gather. I want names, residences, skills. You'll do it now. No talking, no scheming with each other. Your chamberlains must keep lists of these things, and I want them. No one leaves the Audience Pit until I have this information. So, w
hy are you still standing there
." There were shouts for servants still in the Audience Pit.

"What have you done?" Whispered Bloodbyrn, as servants rushed about in the Pit below,

"I have begun my new government," Freetrick sank back into his throne, steepling his fingers. "There are going to be some changes around here."

***

When Madene opened her eyes, she saw the scene had changed. The Craftwork concealment was gone, and the sounds of a busy camp floated on the cool nigh air. Selene had collapsed onto the ground, her right arm around her folded knees, her left lolling uselessly onto the ground. The High Maiden was looking at her, her expression quizzical, and a new Warrior Maiden had appeared in their midst, a short girl with shoulder-length hair, who stood with her back to Madene. Istain was nowhere to be seen.

Madene started,
"
Modeuichegh!
"
she said "
Istain! Beseaigh se. Naich…"

Madene trailed off as she heard her own words. Her voice was distorted and resonant, as if she were shouting from the far end of a cave. She turned frightened eyes to the High Maiden, who smiled a serene smile, then looked down at the girl standing in front of Madene.

"Mich, setrág.
"
She told the girl.

The girl turned, and Madene gasped aloud when she saw her own face staring back at her.

"What…
Modeuichegh, on choigomh iaicót é?
A perfect miniature copy of herself stood between Madene and the High Maiden. The copy's face moved with surprise as Madene own mouth fell open.

"Burning libraries!" Madene bellowed.

Or rather, she felt herself bellow. Lungs, throat, tongue, and lips all moved without any intention from Madene that they should do so. She tried to swallow them, but the vile words poured out of her like sewer water. "Striking struck-out burned up books! What the
hell
is going on here?" Madene's vision whirled as her head swung around to face High Maiden Kadene. "What the gibbering false-worded
hell
did you
do
to me, you—"