Lachlei by M. H. Bonham Page A

was sated.
    Galen strode towards Areyn. “There are no survivors.”
    “Good,” Areyn replied. “This will help clean the Lochvaur plague from Silren lands.”
    “Indeed,” the general said. “But we could’ve used the women and children for the slave trade.”
    “Maybe next time,” Areyn replied, but he doubted it. Areyn Sehduk enjoyed the slave trade immensely, but he needed deaths now. It took power to hold this guise. Unlike the gods of light, Areyn needed the life force of the dying. Their lives made him Rhyn’athel’s equal. Without their deaths, Areyn would be little more than a demon, himself.
    Out of the corner of his eye, Areyn saw a silver wolf slink away. He turned towards it and grinned. Spying for your brother again, Ni’yah?
    The wolf made no reply, but paused and glared at Areyn balefully with his brass eyes. The wolf turned and fled into the dark forest with Areyn’s mocking laughter ringing in his ears.

CHAPTER Eighteen
     
    Imdyr lay naked against the cold, stone altar of Fala and closed her eyes. For nearly a month, Imdyr had lain against the winged goddess’s altar, searching for some sign. Imdyr had been the goddess’s high priestess for five years; Fala had chosen her when she was twelve after the old priestess had died.
    Long raven-black hair framed an angular face. Her eyes were obsidian black, contrasting sharply with sallow skin. Her thin body showed her ribs below her small, firm breasts, and her hip bones protruded. She was like all those born of the Eltar kindred, tall, lithe, and fair skinned. She had been beautiful at one time, but the darkness in the temple had made her pale and emaciated. Even so, the power still remained.
    Imdyr was first-blood. She came from the line of Fala when the goddess had walked among mortals before the wars between the gods. The Eltar and the Falarel had been her kindreds, and yet, they could not gain any greatness over the others.
    Where was the promise of Fala? Imdyr demanded. To her demands came no reply.
    Imdyr had waited — in vain. Fala no longer held power in the Fifth World. She was a dark goddess who hated both the gods of light and gods of darkness, favoring her own magic. For this, Fala was an outcast — eschewed by both sides. Her kindreds weak and forgotten.
    A surge of power ran through her, and Imdyr sat up. Reaching out with her Sight, she saw a dark figure on a horse — but it was no horse. Within her mind’s eye, Imdyr saw the slaughter unfold. Entranced, she felt horrified at first, but she could not tear herself away from the vision. The dark rider came forward, wielding his blade.
    She saw a village in her vision and watched as it burst into flames. Pale warriors — Silren , by their looks — attacked with a blood-frenzy. Some of their victims ran, but a few stood and fought. The warriors had red-gold manes — Lochvaur . But, there were too many Silren and the Lochvaur were soon overwhelmed.
    Imdyr found herself standing on the battlefield, the cold wind whipping across her body. She shivered, but not because she was cold. The carnage excited her — she could taste the blood in her mouth. Then the dark warrior rode towards her. Imdyr could see his face clearly as he turned his demon-mount aside. He was a Silren with ice-blue eyes. Silren , and yet, not Silren .
    Imdyr smiled. She looked into his pale eyes. “I know who you are,” she whispered. “Areyn Sehduk.”
    *****
     
    “It was Areyn,” Ni’yah said, his brass eyes hard. “He mocks me and he mocks you.” He stood on the parapets of Caer Lochvaren next to Rhyn’athel as the warrior god gazed over the forests in the dawn’s light. The warming sun’s rays brought little comfort to either of them. To the casual observer, they looked like two Eleion soldiers conversing — not two of the most powerful gods in the Nine Worlds.
    “I know,” Rhyn’athel said, his voice heavy. “I should’ve seen it — in fact, I felt Areyn’s shield earlier before the