Amber and Iron - Margaret Weis [16]
Mina.
Chemosh had meant the castle to be a gift to her. He had named it both in her honor and as a tribute to his new disciples. He called it Castle Beloved.
But only Mina’s ghost had come to take up residence.
Mina was dead, slain by Nuitari, the God of the Black Moon, the same god who had put an end to Chemosh’s ambitious designs. Nuitari had secretly raised up the ruins of the Tower of High Sorcery of Istar. He had seized the treasure trove of holy artifacts that was to have put Chemosh on the throne as ruler of the heavenly pantheon. Nuitari had captured Mina, taken her prisoner, and in order to flaunt his power over the Lord of Death, Nuitari had slain her.
Chemosh now dwelt alone in Castle Beloved. The place had become loathsome to him, for it was a constant reminder of the ruin of his schemes and plots. Much as he detested the castle, he found he could not leave. For Mina was there. Her spirit came to him there. She hovered near his bed—their bed. Her amber eyes gazed at him but could not see him. Her hand reached out to him but could not find him. Her voice spoke, but she could not talk to him. She listened for his voice, but she could not hear him when he called to her.
The sight of her ghostly form tormented him, and he tried countless times to leave her. He returned to his abandoned dwelling in the Abyss. Her spirit could not follow him there, but the memory of her was there, and her memory left him feeling such bitter pain, he was forced to return to Castle Beloved to find solace in the sight of her wandering ghost.
Chemosh would have his revenge against Nuitari, that much was assured. His plans were vague, however, still in formation. The death knight alone could not dislodge the powerful god from his Tower, though Chemosh did not say that to Krell. He planned to let Krell shake in his boots for a while. Krell owed Chemosh a few uncomfortable hours for losing Ariakan.
Nor did Chemosh tell the death knight that his bungling had worked out for the best. Zeboim was Nuitari’s sister, but there was no love lost between the siblings. Chemosh now had a way to acquire Zeboim as a powerful ally.
The Lord of Death, accompanied by a most reluctant Ausric Krell, passed through the inner and outer walls of the castle and entered the main hall, empty, save for a throne that stood upon a dais in the center. There was room on the dais for two thrones, and when he had first built the castle, there had been two thrones. The larger and more magnificent of these thrones belonged to the god. A smaller and more delicate throne was intended for Mina. Chemosh had smashed that throne to pieces.
The wreckage of the throne lay strewn about the hall. Krell, clumping in after him, trod on some of the rubble. Hoping to regain favor in the eyes of the god, Krell began gushing over the castle’s architectural design.
Chemosh paid no attention to the death knight’s fawnings. He seated himself on his throne and waited, tensely, for Mina’s ghost to come to him. The waiting was always agony. Part of him secretly hoped she would not materialize, that he would never see her again. Perhaps, then, he could forget. But if for some reason more time passed than was usual and her ghost did not appear, he felt he would go mad.
Then she was here, and Chemosh gave a sigh that was mingled despair and relief. Her form, wavering and delicate and pale as though she were spun of cobweb, drifted through the hall toward him. She wore some sort of loose-fitting gown made of black silk that seemed stirred by the undercurrents of the deep, for it undulated gently around her ghostly form. She lifted a ghostly hand as she drew near him, and her mouth opened, as though she was saying something.