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

four heavily armed zombie slaves, but he did. Of course, Nizar repeated his innocence every chance he got.

            Dakar didn’t care who was at fault. There was no Sword of Power, no quick vengeance to be had. And now there was a very real danger to Himself. If Tane Kyleson managed to do the impossible, as he had just shown himself capable of doing, then he might actually seal off the only open Gate into Dakar’s personal Realm of Carth-Amon. And He would be trapped once again, helpless and starving.

            “Mogens!” Dakar shouted aloud and mentally.

            He sensed the High Priest deep in the temple, sound asleep with one of the new female priests. His mental shout startled both Mogens and the priestess, sending the High Priest scrambling for his robes and leaving the priestess praying for forgiveness for a sin she hadn’t committed. Dakar cared nothing for their “morality.”

            Assured that the Thanir High Priest was rushing His way, Dakar turned His attention back to Nizar. Despite His revulsion, He entered the priest’s mind to ensure he was telling the entire truth. Nizar wasn’t above a lie to save his skin. Humans were the only race that thought they could lie to their Gods.

            Nizar’s mind was in turmoil, guilt fighting terror, shame battling anger. The man barely knew where he was anymore, so sure that he was doomed and would soon be sacrificed atop the nearest altar. Dakar was forced to use His power to calm the human down enough to sift through his memories.

            Satisfied He had the truth as Nizar knew it, Dakar departed his mind and spoke to him, You were negligent. As was the local temple. The swordsmith should’ve never been left near an unguarded gate. All of you forgot the advantage that free-minded men have over My slaves.

            Falling to his face in the distant room, Nizar groveled and cried, “Forgive me, Divine Master! I will make it up to you. I will prove my faith and reliability by recapturing the swordsmith. I will sacrifice his friends to Your glory this time, and force the boy to do Your divine will!”

            Dakar said nothing, letting the priest stew in his own fear and uncertainty. It would make him more cautious in the future, make him strive twice as hard to capture the swordsmith before it was too late.

            High Priest Mogens suddenly burst out of a side passage, winded and nervous.

            “The swordsmith has escaped,” Dakar said. “Have the priest in charge of the village sacrificed at noon, with all the others watching. Let them see what failure earns in My service.”

            Bowing, “As You will, Divine Master,” Mogens said. Then a cold glint entered his eyes, “What about Brother Nizar al-Sayyid? Is he to be sacrificed for his failure? Or do You have special plans for him?”

            “He also failed Me, but I have granted him the chance to redeem himself by recapturing the swordsmith,” Dakar said, watching closely Mogens’ reaction. Strangely, the High Priest looked alarmed. Any man who could frighten that cold, cruel Thanir warrior was a man worth keeping. Perhaps Mogens saw a potential in Nizar that Dakar had failed to observe due to His natural disdain for all humans. “You are to see to it that Nizar has everything he requests. Men, horses, weapons, anything. Tane Kyleson has to be stopped.”

            “Yes, Divine Master,” Mogens said, but his face was more wily than reverent. “May I make a suggestion?”

            “Certainly,” Dakar said. It helped to inspire humans by considering their ideas. Indeed, if they thought themselves a viable part of any plan, or had participated in the planning, then they would try twice as hard to succeed. He found it irritating, having to patronize mere mortals, and such frail, pathetic mortals as humans, but they were all He had at the moment. “Your ideas are always welcome, and more often than not sound advice.”

            Mogens pleased his God by only allowing himself to bask in such praise a bare heartbeat before making his suggestion.

            “Since we have Tane Kyleson’s cousin,” he said, watching his God’s every expression for any sign of disapproval. “I suggest we send her along with Brother Nizar. The swordsmith is less likely to fight her, and I doubt if he is capable of actually killing her. And if one of his friends should kill her that may be enough to destroy their little cabal even if they manage to escape Nizar again.”

            Dakar nodded, already sending His mind out in quest of the enchanted slave, Jessy. He found her standing guard before Mogens’ personal quarters in the temple. She looked much better than when she was first presented to Him. Gone were the filthy, blood-splattered clothes and filthier body. Jessy was newly scrubbed and wore a plain black tunic and gray trousers.

            Entering her mind, He sifted through all her childhood memories. Tane was there at every turn, and proved he was highly protective of her and all he loved. His protectiveness irritated her, but she practically worshipped the man, even strove to emulate his “noble” ways. His only fault, as she saw it, was a total lack of any ‘warrior’ ambition.

            “Your reasoning is sound,” Dakar said, leaving her mind to consider how best to use what he had learned. He stifled a need to sigh in relief. Entering human minds, even those of enchanted slaves, was a tedious, grueling endeavor for Him. The effort of sifting through the minds of Nizar and Jessy had used up the equivalent of two hundred human souls. “I believe it might even work, but I have a better idea.”

            Mogens hid his disappointment well.

            “Leave her where she is,” He said, staring off into space as He made plans aloud. “I will transport Brother Nizar here in a moment, then I’ll send him to her. She will be freed from My service, in a manner. I intend to set her on her cousin’s track believing he