Belly of the Beast Warren Thomas (e novels for free .txt) 📖

            Turning over, and pulling his pillow over his head as the bunk began to creak and rock, Tane thought, I don’t blame her. If I was her, I’d rather bed a proven warrior than a helpless swordsmith.

Chapter 15

            The temple was deserted, save for Dakar and High Priest Mogens waiting on the dais before the altar. Nizar glanced about nervously, feeling trapped. Why had he been summoned? Hadn’t he captured more territory and people than anyone else?

            Seeing the icy look the High Priest sent him made Nizar even more nervous. Both understood each other, all too well. They shared the same ambition, to be the High Priest of Dakar. When the God returned to His Holy Realm in victory, the reigning High Priest would be left behind to rule the entire world in His name. Who wouldn’t want that power for himself?

            What poison have you filled Dakar’s ears with, bastard, Nizar thought, careful to keep the burning hatred off his face.

            Still, Nizar wondered if Dakar could read his mind. An Arisen could read the minds of a devotee at anytime, anyplace. But Dakar remained too weak to surrender the avatar and return His full consciousness to His Heavenly Realm and maintain His magical link with His priesthood. In effect, He wasn’t any more powerful than an Arch Wizard or High Priest, though back in His Realm His strength and vitality grew with each sacrifice, new priest, and new altar. But, if Nizar remembered correctly, Dakar was as powerful as any God could be within the Mortal Realm. Their true power rested within Their personal Realms.

            “Divine Master, I came as soon as I received Your summons,” Nizar said, prostrating himself before Dakar. “How may I serve You, Divine Master?”

            “You have served Me well, Brother Nizar,” Dakar said. “Rise and be welcome.”

            Nizar’s heart skipped a beat. He wasn’t in trouble. Just the opposite, in fact. Was he to be rewarded? Promoted? High Priest Nizar, maybe with his own city to rule? His own region? Someone had to stay behind and watch over Dakar’s conquests.

            “I live to serve, Divine Master,” he said after regaining his feet. “My only desire is to find new and better ways to serve You, to please You even more.”

            “That attitude will serve you well,” Dakar said, nodding His approval. “Serve Me well, and all possibilities are within your grasp, even your fondest dreams.”

            Nizar’s mouth went dry, his heart hammering, at the vision of his bastard of a father and insufferable half-brothers humbled and groveling before him. Vengeance would be so sweet! He would rule the Desert Kingdoms from his father’s throne. Maybe, he would rule the world!

            “It swells my heart with joy to know my humble efforts have pleased You, Divine Master,” Nizar said, noting Mogens scowl.

            The Thanir was a threat, of that Nizar had no doubt. How great a threat remained to be seen, but he silently vowed to keep his guard up around the blonde giant. Mogens alone had around the clock access to their God, and his words were the first Dakar considered.

            “I have called you here for two reasons. First, you are My most resourceful commander. Second, it was you who discover the threat to Myself,” Dakar said. “It is that threat I wish to discuss here tonight.”

            “If there is a threat to Yourself, Divine Master, then send me to squash it!” Nizar cried. “I will not rest until You are safe.”

            Dakar’s fiery red eyes flashed even brighter at Nizar’s words, and the ardor in which he spoke them. Nizar knew he was on the right track. Tracking down and killing the threat was something his God would be eternally grateful for, and equally generous to the man who served Him so well.

            High Priest Nizar, Sultan of the World, he thought. All my dreams, and more, waiting only for me to reach out and seize them.

            Dakar spoke, breaking into Nizar’s reverie, “You are to leave immediately. Go north, to Kestsax. There you will find a young swordsmith by the name of Tane Kyleson.”

            “You want him dead,” Nizar said, believing it a statement of fact, not a question.

            “No. He is more valuable alive than dead,” High Priest Mogens said. “Our Divine Master has determined that the lad has been given the talent to forge Rune Swords, Swords of Power, that are capable of killing Gods!”

            The statement sent Nizar’s mind to reeling. Kill Gods! But They were immortal! Surely that meant They couldn’t be killed. But if the High Priest was correct, the swordsmith posed a very real threat to Dakar, and Nizar’s own plans for the future. This Tane Kyleson had to be stopped.

            “But why not just kill him, and end the threat forever?” Nizar said.

            “Because any blade that will kill Me, will kill Arisen Gods as well,” Dakar said, eyes flashing. “Captured, he can be forced to forge Swords of Power for Me. With an army armed with those holy swords, we can storm the Arisen in their very Realms and vanquish Them!”

            Yes! Nizar thought, face exultant. I can even punish theGodsfor what They did to me! They will rue the day They turned Their backs on me!

            “My God,” Nizar said, eyes blazing, “Tane Kyleson is as good as yours.”

Chapter 16

            Loss. Terrible, terrible loss struck Tane like a hammer blow. Hot tears flowed across hotter cheeks. And he turned back to the anvil, fist tightening on the hammer, and returned to hammering. Hammering on the sword. The heat off the forge fire scorched his face; sparks blistered his hands and arms. He kept hammering, feeling the soul-rending loss and that oppressive threat that never went away.

            It would never end. The sun would never shine. All was lost, if he didn’t finish, and quickly. Tane cried in fear, pain and loss, and kept hammering at the glowing steel. The sound rang in