The Amulet of Power - Mike Resnick [104]
She stood up just in time to catch a foot to the head, swung a couple of weak blows that landed but didn’t do any damage, and braced herself for the haymaker she could see coming.
She almost lost consciousness when his fist crashed into her face. As it was, she fell to the floor, and it was no act when she found herself momentarily too weak and dizzy to get back to her feet.
“That was stupid!” he said angrily. He walked over to the altar, picked up the amulet, and placed it around his neck. “At last!”
“You win,” muttered Lara, still on the floor.
“And I will never lose again.” He frowned. “You know, there was something between us before, something real. I could feel it.” He stared at her as she wiped the blood from her mouth. “I could have made you my queen.” He put his hand on the amulet. “I still can. Come over here.”
She got painfully to her feet and approached him.
“You hate me, don’t you?” he said with an amused smile. “I can see it in your eyes.”
She didn’t answer.
“Now put your arms around me and kiss me,” he ordered her. “And mean it.”
She put her arms around his neck and gave him a long, passionate kiss.
“Yes,” he said when they parted, “they certainly didn’t lie about its charismatic powers.”
“Am I to be your queen?”
“I’m afraid not,” he said. “You still hate me. I could never turn my back on you.”
“I love you,” she insisted.
“That’s the Amulet speaking. But some day I’ll remove it, to shower or sleep or for some other reason, and then not only will you find that you hated me all along, but you’ll also try to find ways to kill me before I can put it on again.” He stared at her. “Still, you did lead me to it. I owe you something for that. Say that you accept me as the Expected One, and I will reward you by letting you live.”
“I acknowledge that you are the Expected One.”
“All right,” he said. “You have been Forerunner to my Messiah. I will not harm you further today, and nothing can harm me. I’ll be leaving for the Sudan later this morning. It would be best if you never returned there, because if we should ever meet again I will consider you my blood enemy.” He stared at her and a fanatical glow seemed to spread across his handsome face. “You have the Mahdi’s solemn word on that.”
And then Khaled Ahmed Mohammed el-Shakir walked out of the Grande Anse Church, his prize around his neck, ready to lay claim to the ownership of the world, and to cleanse the path to his throne with the blood of all who opposed him.
34
Lara picked up her pistols, then began walking to the Mercedes. On the way she encountered the pudgy priest, who was cautiously approaching the church.
“Are you all right, my child?” he asked her.
“I’m fine.”
“I heard gunshots,” he said. “Dozens of them. Perhaps hundreds. I waited until I was sure they were done, and then—”
“They’re done,” said Lara. He was about to continue toward the church when she blocked his way. “Father, you’re about to see a sight that will probably sicken and terrify you and will surely make you want to summon the police.”
“Is someone—?”
“A lot of someones,” she said. “I want you to remember that I urged you to get away to a place of safety.”
“I remember.”
“That advice saved your life, Father. Now I want you to return the favor.”
He looked puzzled. “How?”
“Don’t report what you see here for three hours,” said Lara. “Four would be even better. After that you can tell anyone you want.”
“You are asking me to neglect my duty.”
“Your duty is to the living,” said Lara. “That’s me—and I won’t remain among the living if you don’t help me.” She stared at him. “Will you?”
He considered her request for an uncomfortably long moment, then finally nodded his agreement. “I’ll do as you ask.”
“You’d be a lot happier not even going to the church for a few hours.”
“If someone’s suffering or in pain, I must go to them.”
“Nobody’s suffering anymore,” she said coldly.
“Go,” said the priest. “Your three hours have already started.”
She walked to the car