Prince of Lies - James Lowder [57]
But, my love-
Silence! Cyric shouted to Godsbane. Though the word went unheard by the Chaos Hound, it seemed to shake the shadow-heavy chamber. When my book is complete and the other gods wither and die, their minions will be unprotected. They will feed the Hound for eternity.
"I will do as you ask," Kezef murmured, his inhuman voice filled with unspoken maledictions. "Though I know I should not trust you."
"Oh, you can believe all that I tell you now, Kezef," Cyric purred. "If you fail me, or if you do anything with Kelemvor's soul besides bring it to my castle, intact, I shall carve the maggoty hide from you until there is nothing left but your teeth – and those I'll hammer into chamber pots for my lowliest priest in the mortal realms."
The Hound narrowed his red eyes. The rotting orbs blazed with arrogance almost matching Cyric's. "It took all the gods combined to chain me here, Lord of Four Crowns. And when I have tasted the souls of the saved once more, I shall have more flesh upon these bones than even you can carve away."
Before Kezef could react, Godsbane's tip was planted firmly against his snout. "With this blade, I have whittled down gods, cur."
"It is indeed a mighty sword." The Chaos Hound backed away until the darkness once again cloaked his horrible form. For a moment, Kezef studied the rose-hued blade. Then a spark of vague recognition flashed in his eyes. "What is its name?"
"This sword has drawn the life from four gods," Cyric lied, pride curling his mouth into a sneer, "and she has tasted the blood of a fifth." His voice became a hate-filled whisper. "I have named her Godsbane."
"Godsbane," Kezef murmured darkly. He sniffed at the sword with his dripping snout. "That's a good name, I think. Very appropriate."
Cyric dismissed the comment as cowardly fawning and fell to studying the chain forged by the God of Craft. He quickly abandoned all thought of pulling up the anchor, driven miles deep into the floor. Calling forth all his rage and frustration at having Kelemvor elude him for ten long years, the Prince of Lies drew Godsbane and brought her down on a single link.
The sword seemed to fight against the blow, but the resistance was not nearly enough to counter Cyric's fury. As if it had been wrought of porcelain, the link shattered. The blow also broke an enchantment that countered the Hound's pestilent aura; rust and decay spread from the beast's throat, down the collar and the remainder of the chain.
Kezef tossed back his head and howled gleefully. The rusted, useless chain slid from his neck, clattering to the floor. The Chaos Hound was free.
* * * * *
Nine identical Mystras raced across the planes, speeding to the courts of the other Greater Powers. As one they carried the dire news that Cyric was attempting to loose the Chaos Hound that the ravager of the heavens would soon be free to prey on the souls of the Faithful. To the verdant fields of Elysium and the blasted plains of Hades, the hodgepodge chaos of Limbo and the tranquil order of theSevenMountainsof Goodness and Law, the Goddess of Magic spread the warning – and pleaded with the gods of the Circle to stand with her against the Prince of Lies.
In the plane known as Concordant, Mystra came seeking Oghma the Binder. The place was the embodiment of balance between law and chaos. Infinite godly domains spread out in circular bands from a fixed center. One moment the heart of Concordant appeared as a gigantic tree, reaching up endlessly, the next as a perfectly carved marble pillar or a swirling column of clouds, spitting lightning and rumbling thunder. And though its shape shifted incessantly, its location remained fixed, a still point at the center of the malleable plane.
Beings from every god's realm and every possible mortal world traveled to Concordant, seeking knowledge or power or gossip. The markets where these seekers gathered bustled with denizens and angels, selling dark secrets and divine guidance.