"You may move first, Sir Gord, so you take the pale men, I the dark" the boy said. "Only those able to go on squares of different colors can use the twisting paths as they would move normally, a single space or many squares. Vaulting and skipping pieces count all squares and move upward accordingly, and off to another board if there is distance remaining, but they must stop as soon as leaving the spiral. If an enemy man occupies the space, then it is en prise if capture is desired. The diagonal-movers use only two of the four vortices," Tharizdun went on, "because of the color of entry, of course. When these move to another field, their color changes. Dark and light alternate above and below, though so to go from nether to astral or vice versa means there is no shifting from such transfer."
"I understand."
"Exit from a spiral requires pause."
"You mean that my oliphant could move up from the lowest to the highest, but then not continue on along rank or file?"
"That is correct," the boy said with a smile. He then tested Gord's knowledge of the pieces and their powers. They were much as those of dragonchess, but the two sides varied in name and move of forces. The youth arranged his major strength on the lowest of the three boards, twenty-four being set there. He and Gord both had but twelve pawns and pieces to array on the middle board. Gord's men alone occupied the uppermost of the fields. "Fine," the boy said eagerly as the young champion placed his last piece into starting position. "You must now move!"
Although only some of the men were allowed to jump from board to board, Gord reasoned that the steps at the corners would be important means of shifting strength to other fields as the game progressed. Pawns, dark or light, for instance, became progressively more powerful as they progressed upward or downward, and the fact that captured pieces of the enemy allowed you to create a new pawn would lead to a contest wherein the number of men did not diminish significantly as in most forms of chess. He played using this strategy, aggressively but not rashly.
It was fortunate indeed that Gord did so. The boy was an excellent player, and several times it seemed as if his traps would lead to the destruction of Gord's hard-won bridgeheads or defensive positions. Each time, though, by dint of counterthreat or trap of his own, Gord managed to avoid defeat. It was a long contest. Leda came back to watch for a time, then left again to rest. Gellor also went off for a bit to eat and to poke around, but he was more interested in the game them was the elven girl. At last, when it appeared that the dark assassin working with chevalier and devil would force the light king into the open where it would be threatened by a wave of advancing foes, Gord moved his celestial knight, a piece promoted in stature because of its attainment of the lowest board, into a place where it stood beside the commander of the black array.
"You are checkmated, I believe," Gord told the lad with a quiet voice.
"I'll take your man!" the self-proclaimed emperor said with childish anger.
"That is against the rules," Gord countered.
"Archpriest and marshal guard it."
The boy struck the board hard, and the pieces and pawns flew in all directions. "You cheated!"
"That is not true."
"I want the ring you have! Take all of those gems — I have more too! See?" he said as he rushed to bring out and display boxes from beneath his large bed. "A thousand black pearls and opals, and in this one are as many rubies, emeralds, and sapphires. You take them all! I'll give your servants as much again for the rings they wear. The gems I offer are the most perfect of jewels, and there are more here than in the whole world!"
"It is not sufficient." Gord said, motioning Gellor to stay back "I would have far more than a few baubles such as that for my ring."
"What do you ask? I am Emperor. If you want a world, two, I can command it. Name your desired price, man."
"The power of Ultimate Evil." Gord said without flinching.
"You dare ask to be me?" The boy spat that out, then recoiled with a sudden realization of his hasty words. "Only I am the ultimate of anything," he said, trying to cover his error, but even the lad knew it was useless. "Get out! Leave this place now! I command it. If you disobey, then you will be killed."
"That is also a lie, Tharizdun. I mean to stay here, and I will best you at whatever you attempt."
"No you won't, no you won't, no you won't!" The lad stamped his feet and tears sprang to his eyes as he threw the tantrum. "I'll hold my breath and explode!" The boy proceeded to do that, turning red as he puffed out his cheeks.
Leda was stunned. "This is the dreaded master of darkness?"
"He very nearly defeated Gord at that chess game," Gellor cautioned.
"So he is a genius at gaming, but that doesn't make him—"
"Please say no more, Leda, Gellor. I would send you out of this place, but I need your strength, so stay here but be silent. Keep the rings on too, for I now understand what they are and do."
Tharizdun let the air out of his cheeks with a razzing sound. "Is that so? I don't think you know half as much as you think you do, fatherless whelp of a tomcat!" The boyish sparkle in Tharizdun's eyes was now a glow of deep malice that any demon would be proud of.
"I keep my own counsel, little toad," Gord countered. "What you think and what I understand might well be at variance. Are there more games you would play at?"
"How about these?" Tharizdun shouted, and as he spoke he flung a handful of darts at Gord's face, springing to his feet as he did so.
Gord's suspicion and quick reflexes saved him. The darts were acid-filled and poison-tipped both. Blind or kill, a single one could probably do either or both. He ducked aside, and all six missed their mark Tharizdun was up and away during the distraction, however. Gellor saw him heading for the ladder and started to intervene. "Don't move!" Gord yelled. "Let him go!"
Tharizdun swarmed up the ladder, the trap door opening automatically at his approach, banging shut as his heels disappeared. "The dark disc of stone above houses his mature form," Gord informed the two who stood wondering. "Back down to the lower portion of this place, quickly!"
"Why couldn't we see his guise? Note his malice?"
"Neither you, Leda nor you, old friend, need be ashamed. His power is so immense that no normal dweomer can pierce any veil he chooses to place to hide his workings. Still, he is not omnipotent, and you two have means to counter his evil, just as the sword and ring I wear give me power to resist."
"What hope have we?" the troubador asked.
"You both have rings. The three were forged in the empyreal realms, and each bound a portion of Tharizdun's evil force into the Theorparts. The power of his nature is loosed now, but the Good which fought against it remains in our three rings." By then the three had come to the lower of the adamantitelined rooms that had been the monster's prison for so long.
"He nearly gulled me," Gellor said sadly.
"I too," Leda told the bard. "Feel not a simpleton."
"Should we go out and shut him fast again?"
"Make for the outside," Gord said. "There is no longer any means of holding Tharizdun anywhere, but I shall stand where this door once locked him in. I'll bar his passage until you two are free of his fortress."
With great reluctance, Leda and Gellor complied. In a minute they were out of sight, heading to the base of the great keep and on beyond the confines of the fortress. Gord remained motionless, waiting. Soon there was a low moaning sound that seemed to come from the very stones of the castle, and the air grew rank and heavy. Then a flush suffused the blocks of marble and pale limestone. Red streamed forth from the walls, running from high on the walls downward, dripping from ceiling overhead to spot and pool the floor. Soon the whole of the place was milky white no longer but an ugly, red-violet that darkened and grew muddy as the process continued.
With the change of hue there came the sound of a heavy tread, and Gord knew that Tharizdun himself approached for confrontation.
Chapter 17
AT LAST! How many tens of thousands of centuries had he been kept in bondage? Many. Far, far too many! While his true self had been bound in slumber, his mind drugged and powerless through the force of arcane dweomers, all that he had worked for and accomplished had been undone!
No. That wasn't exact. His puling enemies had been inept. The Lords of Light had attempted to destroy his work, but they had merely succeeded in making Evil factious — as weak as they were, those noble masters of Weal. Tharizdun smiled a smile of pure malice. Weaklings of any sort would be expunged from the cosmos soon.
The child-Tharizdun stood expectantly before him now. The boy was a creation of the Lords of Light, a place to house that part of himself that they could not submerge in their magical toils.
"Father!" the boy-Tharizdun shouted. "They escape, they escape!" he cried, fairly dancing in his excitement and fury. "Those three wear the rings!"
The true Master of Malevolence was sitting bolt upright in the stony cavity that had been his crypt for the centuries. Tharizdun was not yet fully himself.
There was a weakness evident inside, and only one answer at hand.
"Come here, my child," he said to boy. The youthful little one obeyed reluctantly, his face still a twisted mask of impotent fury. "Show me how to stop them," he commanded. That order was ignored, and a heartbeat later Tharizdun seized the child and dragged him into the sarcophagus.
"You are unnatural," the Darkest of Abominations growled as the boy started to resist. "No! I am Tharizdun! Let me—" he screamed, seeing the red lust and awful fate that the being purposed for him. His last sentence was cut short by the teeth of his unnatural sire. Long, vampiric fangs closed on the jugular of the kicking child.
"Ahhh. That is better," Tharizdun said with deep satisfaction as he drained the life from what had been his only consciousness for eons. Tossing aside the limp and lifeless body, Tharizdun sprang from the black crypt as lightly as a dancer. "You dared to presume!" the terrible being said, looking down at the pale and bloodless form that was a replica of himself — or would have been, had Tharizdun ever been a child. "Just because you housed a modicum of me, little jackal, that is not the same as being me! But you still have a use, for I am not yet fully satisfied."
Then the ghastly thing grabbed up the corpse and proceeded to enjoy a cannibal feast. Tharizdun's mouth grew broad, jaws lengthened, and teeth grew to suit his desire. With snarl and slobber, he dined on flesh and bone. In but a few minutes nothing but the boy's skull remained.