White Angel Page 3

  “What it means is that she used to take the form of a voluptuous human female.”

  “And now she takes the form or either a lava woman or a decrepit old hag?”

  “Yes, pretty much. But she’s looked like that in the past, too. It’s just that, before, she’d often conjure herself up as a vision of beauty. Now, she mostly walks around as an old crone.”

  “Well, she has sure come down in life.”

  “Don’t let her hear you say that.”

  “Why not? I’m not afraid of her.”

  “You should be.”

  Swarenth paused, thought for a moment, and said, “You know, a smart mouth like yours is not attractive on a woman.”

  “So I’ve heard.”

  “You might try listening.”

  “I did. I just didn’t like what I was hearing.”

  Swarenth clenched his fist and came close to striking her. He took a deep breath and changed the subject.

  “Maybe I should send you away on a mission, like I did Zenaruka. He’s the youngest male in the family, so maybe the youngest female should have the same opportunities.”

  “What opportunity? You sent him looking for a boy king who probably died years before I was even born. What makes you think that Tarlen might still be alive?”

  “I don’t. Not anymore. But I couldn’t have General Takanar wasting his time on such a thankless task.”

  “When’s Zenaruka coming back?”

  “When he can prove that the last Kardimont is either alive or dead.”

  Kitaria turned to look at a pretty human woman who was about her own age and was walking into the great hall, the throne room of Dominion Castle, unannounced. Swarenth glared at the intruder and snarled, “Get out of here, or I’ll have you thrown to my troops.”

  “Really? Maybe I’d enjoy that. But what’s the matter? Aren’t you strong enough to handle me yourself?” the woman asked.

  Kitaria looked at her uncle and felt fear entering her heart, not for herself but for this bold woman who was about to die, whether she knew it or not. Yet where did she come from? Kitaria wondered. My uncle keeps a brothel of human women for his men, but I don’t recognize this one.

  “No one requested your presence here,” Kitaria said sternly. “You had best leave.”

  “Oh, I think I’ll take my chances with the big brute next to you,” the young woman smiled.

  “Like it rough, do you?” Swarenth snarled as he reached for his knife. “How about if I gut you from one side to the other?”

  “Oh, how rude,” the young woman laughed.

  Kitaria held her breath. Yes, she enjoyed toying with her uncle at times, but she was never this confrontational. She valued her health, and her life.

  Swarenth began walking toward this defiant woman clenching his knife, and Kitaria waited and watched for an ending she assumed would be brief and violent. But as her uncle got closer to the brassy human, the woman deftly moved away, swaying sensuously as she went.

  As the young woman breezed past the warlord, she removed her blouse revealing full, firm breasts, and Swarenth stopped, stared and swallowed hard. Kitaria also noticed her uncle’s breathing was becoming much more labored.

  As Swarenth shook off his surprise and strode towards the defiant female once again, the young temptress dropped her skirt revealing long, slender legs, and something more. She was completely naked.

  “Oops!” she said while smiling. “I seem to have lost something.”

  Swarenth stopped again, gawked at her and his jaw dropped.

  “Excuse me, I’m so embarrassed,” the young woman said shyly, covering herself with one hand, but not quite.

  Swarenth just stood there looking like he’d been run down by a wagon. He gaped at the now demure female, who slowly and sensuously bent over and picked up her blouse. “I guess I should put this back on, otherwise you might think me too forward.”

  “No, it’s okay,” Swarenth managed to say, almost choking on the words as he attempted to speak.

  “I shouldn’t have come. I can see you’re busy. It’s just that I didn’t know what else to do. Who else could I talk to? All the women in the castle say you’re so wise and strong.”

  A glimmer of pride entered Swarenth’s eyes.

  Oh, boy, thought Kitaria. This woman sure knows how to work it. She’s not as helpless as she looks.

  The human female sighed, signaling that she was confused and needed Swarenth’s help. After slipping on her blouse, she began to button it, and then hesitated. Sighing once more, she opened her blouse, closed it and opened it again, seemingly unable to decide for herself whether or not to get dressed.

  Swarenth came to her rescue. “You don’t have to bother putting your clothes back on. You can do that later, I suppose.”

  The young woman sighed as if a great weight had been taken from her. After taking a step towards her rescuer, she stopped, seemingly uncertain about whether or not to approach Swarenth.

  Once more, the warlord helped her make up her mind. “You can come to me, if you want,” he croaked, his throat dry.

  I really need to be taking notes, Kitaria thought. This is really instructive, that is if I ever want to make a total fool of myself. But power is power, take it where you can get it, I suppose.

  Since the woman was behaving passively and submissively, which was exactly how Swarenth felt females should behave, the warlord put away his knife, wondering if she might even prove to be eager and willing. But now he began worrying that he might have frightened her too much. Had he been thinking clearly, the answer would have been, Not likely.

  “What’s your name?” Swarenth asked in a raspy voice.

  “Zelkiorba,” she replied.

  “Nice name.”

  “Thank you, I’m glad it pleases you.”

  Kitaria was instantly alert. Along with being bossy and bold, she was one more thing. Smart.

  She thought, Zelkiorba has the same letters in it as Balzekior. Don’t tell me this human woman is really that withered old hag?

  The answer to that would be, Yes.

  Kitaria now settled down to watch a master play her uncle for all he was worth. But the theatrical part of the performance was about to end abruptly, by Zelkiorba’s choice.

  “What I’d really like is to feel the arms of a king around me,” the young woman purred. “This castle’s yours, isn’t it?”

  “Yes,” Swarenth said, swaggering a bit as he walked. “It’s mine.”

  “No, it’s not,” the young woman said, challenging him. “It belongs to King Tarlen, doesn’t it? You’re just a fraud, aren’t you?”

  Swarenth was shocked by her rapid transition from being demure to being boldly defiant. But he quickly recovered and drew out his knife once more. This time, the anger in his eyes looked murderous.

  “I’m going to gut you like a pig,” he said savagely.

  “Tell it to someone who cares,” Balzekior mocked him.

  Swarenth lunged at her but pulled up sharply when his intended victim turned into a huge lava monster. “Is that the way to welcome home an old friend?” Balzekior asked innocently. “I’d think you’d be more eager to see me. Anyway, do you really want to hurt little ol’ me? Still, I must say, you’ve hurt my feelings.”

  Balzekior then stood up to her full height and roared, flames surging off of her well-muscled lava body.

  Swarenth just stood there not knowing what to do. Instinctively, he took a step back, which was a good move. Balzekior liked seeing fear in a man’s eyes. She’d sometimes tell others, I’d rather have a male fear me than love me. Men in love are useless, but men who fear you can prove helpful.

  A timeless truth.

  However, Balzekior was also bearing bad news that would make Swarenth’s worst nightmare come true. “King Tarlen’s alive. I’ve seen him.”

  Swarenth felt like he’d slipped into a time warp. It was as though the gargoyle warlord had fallen 30 years into the past, while the past rushed forward 30 ye
ars to the present, as if the last three decades had never happened.

  “Where?” was all Swarenth could manage to get out.

  “What do you mean, where? Where have I been for the last year? And don’t say you don’t know.”

  “Firecrest Castle,” Swarenth admitted.

  “Well, Firecrest Castle doesn’t exist anymore. It’s been burned to the ground.”

  “No great loss,” Swarenth said.

  “Lord Ridgewood and all of his men are dead,” Balzekior added.

  “Doesn’t matter.”

  “But King Tarlen being alive matters, doesn’t it?”

  “So why didn’t you kill him? Why did you let him live?” Swarenth asked in an accusatory tone of voice, fear being replaced by the need to establish blame.

  “Aerylln, Baelfire, Zorya, Chen, and her dark sword, Crystal, were all there as well. Sort of put a damper on things.”

  “You’re more powerful than Crystal,” Swarenth said firmly.

  “True, but there was a little matter of Marcheto, Eldwyn, the College of Wizards, some crystalline warrior women, and two crystal tigers.”

  Swarenth was alarmed to hear a hint of fear in Balzekior’s voice. “They beat you?” he asked, his own stomach tightening at the thought.

  “Well, what do you think happened? Do you think I came back here because I missed you?” she asked cynically. “I’d been living in a dungeon with little access to demon lava. And I derive my power from it, you know?”

  “Yes, I know. That’s why you like it here. There’s a reservoir of lava deep beneath the valley surface.”

  “No place like home,” Balzekior smiled ruefully.

  “And I’ve 10,000 gargoyle warriors under my command that you’d like to make use of, I’m sure.”

  “It had crossed my mind.”

  “So you need me,” Swarenth said bluntly.

  “Oh, there you go again with your need for reassurance. But the truth is that, no, I don’t need you. I’m just choosing to allow you to help me.”

  “Gracious of you,” Swarenth said in a derisive tone of voice.

  “Well, there might be a perk or two in it for you,” Balzekior smiled.

  “Such as?”

  Balzekior turned back into the young human woman, still naked. “Where are my clothes?” she asked looking around helplessly. “What shall I do?”

  With that, Balzekior lay down on the great-room floor and stretched out on the cool marble. “Oh, my, I’m feeling a bit of a chill. I wish I could find something to cover myself up with. Do you have a blanket or something nearby? Hmmm?”

  Swarenth walked over to her, his eyes full of lust and desire, and took off his tunic. As he began to kneel down next to her, Balzekior looked at Kitaria and said, “You’re going to need a strong stomach if you’re going to watch. His tastes are a bit strange. He’s into a woman feeling pain.”

  “Why doesn’t that surprise me?” Kitaria said in disgust as she turned to walk away.

  “Are you daring to express dissatisfaction with those who enjoy abusing women, even though almost every male gargoyle in this castle thrives on such behavior?” Balzekior asked, testing her.

  “How could I not?” Kitaria protested.

  “A woman with your attitude could do a lot of harm around here. Such ideas could disrupt the established order, even destroy it.”

  “It’s about time something did.”

  “But what about those who’d get hurt in the process?” Balzekior asked, continuing to test Kitaria, wanting to learn more about her.

  “Even change verging on total upheaval wouldn’t make things any worse than they already are. You know how women live around here. If you call it living.”

  “You can be a real bitch,” Balzekior said, smiling with approval.

  “It won’t be the first time I’ve been called that.”

  Balzekior wrapped her arms around Swarenth’s neck and said, “I think I like this girl.”

  “I’m glad someone does. Now would you mind focusing on what you’re doing?”

  Balzekior looked at Kitaria and winked.

  In disgust, Kitaria turned and walked away.

  “Oh, that feels good,” Balzekior said, expressing false pleasure while arousing Swarenth nonetheless.

  “At least you know how to get what you want, Balzekior,” Kitaria said over her shoulder as she headed for the entrance to the great room.

  “What I want is King Tarlen dead, your uncle as a true king, and you as his heir.”

  “Best of luck, you’re going to need it,” Kitaria said cynically as she walked out.

  Balzekior began laughing and called after her, “You’re a woman who believes in nothing and trusts no one. I can’t imagine why.”

  Although feigning a good mood, Balzekior was really quite upset. She resented Swarenth for not even attempting to rescue her at Firecrest Castle.

  “After all we’ve been through together, you should have tried to rescue me,” she told her grotesque lover.

  Swarenth tried to slough off her comment saying, “You’re a demon with more powers than I have. What good could I have done?”

  “You have 10,000 gargoyle warriors. You should have come for me.”

  “And you should be quiet and focus on pleasing me,” he said fiercely. “Anyway, you’ve been in the form of a decrepit old hag for years. This is the first time you’ve come to me like this since we conquered Dominion Castle.”

  “That’s because you stopped listening to me and no longer took my ambitions seriously.”

  “But we conquered Dominion Castle. We didn’t need anything else.”

  “You mean you didn’t need anything else. I did. If you’d done what I told you to do, planned ahead more, and helped me willingly, I wouldn’t have been taken captive by the College of Wizards, and I wouldn’t have had to battle Aerylln and Chen at Firecrest Castle, and before that at Crystal Castle.”

  “Well, you’re here now, that’s what matters,” Swarenth said before drifting off into his own world of pleasure, using her as just a means to his own ends. Again.

  With resignation, Balzekior wrapped her legs around his waist, while Swarenth moaned and gripped her tightly.

  Balzekior didn’t know what was going to happen when King Tarlen tried to take back Dominion Castle. Yet, for now, Swarenth was all she had, and the thought angered her. She held him firmly with her arms and legs and moaned loudly into his ear once more, but Balzekior realized that no matter how much physical affection they showed each other, in actuality, she mattered very little to him.

  Also, she was sure he’d regret not listening to her years ago, and that he’d regret not listening to her now. Balzekior was a demon from hell, that was true, but she was also a woman. He should have listened.

  You’ll regret not taking me seriously and not listening to me, Balzekior thought bitterly. You’ll regret it.

  And she was right.

  Chapter 3

  Hawthorn Village. Several weeks later.

  “Mother Protector, this is…,” King Tarlen started to say. “Welcome White Angel,” the farmwife said, smiling

  warmly at Aerylln. “We’ve been expecting you.”

  “How could you be expecting me?” the young woman asked. Aerylln had never been to Hawthorn Village before, the village being nearly two-weeks’ ride southeast of Firecrest Castle and just 40 miles north of Dominion Castle.

  “Oh, I’ve been waiting for you since the day King Ulray Kardimont died. At the very moment of his death, your spirit came into being. It was only a matter of time until you surfaced.”

  “I’m only 19-years-old. I couldn’t have existed back then,” Aerylln said feeling confused and uncertain, and though Mother Protector had addressed the teenage girl by her angelic name, Aerylln was in human form.

  “Don’t look at time as moving in a straight line, White Angel. To me, it seems like only yesterday that I felt your consciousness appear in the universe,” the old woman said with a smile.


  “Then the universe took a long enough time getting me here, don’t you think?”

  “No, the universal consciousness, the Creative Light, took as much time as was necessary. It always takes the most direct path. The shortest route.”

  “Thirty years was the quickest path?” Aerylln asked in disbelief.

  Mother Protector smiled. “If you had tried to arrive earlier, it would have taken even longer. You’re supposed to arrive here today. No sooner. No later. I felt your presence last night when you were camping by the stream up north, sleeping under a willow tree. When I realized you were close, I knew the time was now.”

  “The time is now for what?” King Tarlen asked anxiously, hoping Mother Protector was about to confirm the prophecy she’d made about White Angel years ago.

  “It’s time to take back Dominion Castle from the forces of darkness. The Creative Light can’t endure Swarenth living there anymore.”

  “The kingdom has been in darkness for so long, I’d have thought the Creative Light would have run out of patience with Swarenth before this,” Aerylln said.

  “The path leading into the light is often paved in darkness,” Mother Protector told her.

  “But why?”

  “As we pass through the valley of death, we discover that good exists in places where we’d least expect it. Therefore, evil can never win,” Mother Protector explained.

  “I don’t know about that. When Swarenth’s forces overran Dominion Castle and killed King Tarlen’s ather, evil won,” Aerylln said.

  “No, not really.”

  “It appears to me like it did. King Tarlen’s entire family was murdered by Swarenth’s gargoyles. How else could you describe such a devastating outcome?”

  “I’d call it an act of desperation. Evil was trying to prove it’s something it’s not.”