The Vacant Throne - Ed Greenwood [24]
"The aid of the Ssserpent ssshall be yours," the hooded figure said solemnly, "in return for the turning of Ornentar to the worship of the Ssserpent."
The baron sat silent in his high seat for a long moment, and then nodded slowly. The priest strode away from the wall towards the ruler of Ornentar, swaying slightly, and said, "There is a ceremony. Remove your tunic, and the chains of gold you wear."
The baron's eyes narrowed, but he did so, slowly and with increasing reluctance.
When Ornentar's white, heavily hairy torso was bared, the priest slowly brought one hand into view from behind his back. It seemed to hold nothing, but when he extended one finger to the baron's sagging breasts and the paunch beneath, his touch was cold. Cold and slimy; as that finger traced a complex figure on the baron's chest, it left a glistening trail… a trail that began to glow a dull greenish-white.
The priest blew out the nearest lamp, leaving only the flickering light of the sconces on the wall. In the dimness, the glow coming from the baron shone more strongly. The ruler of Ornentar looked down at himself in consternation.
"Kneel," the Priest of the Serpent hissed. The baron stared at him, but the priest said and moved no more than a stone statue as long, silent moments passed.
The baron frowned, looked away at nothing for a while, and then, slowly, crouched down out of his chair onto his knees. Tapestries stirred between every shield then, all around the room, and figures robed and hooded just like the priest glided into view, smoothly taking places in a circle around Eldagh Ornentar. They kept silent, hiding their features in the bent cowls of their robes and keeping their hands drawn up into their flaring sleeves, but he could feel their eyes upon him.
The baron stared up at them, wild fear and suspicion rising in his eyes like kindling flames-and then the design on his chest flared into white fire, and in its bright radiance he saw them all bare one sleeve and thrust that arm out at him. They took a pace closer in unison, and knuckles brushed him on all sides.
There was movement then, on twenty shoulders, as serpents came slithering out into full view to glide swiftly down every arm. The baron stared in horror at their coilings, and then up into the cowls at a row of calm, confident faces-and then fangs struck, and struck, and struck.
The baron swallowed-it was almost a sob-as tongues flickered and serpentine heads turned to fix him with glittering eyes. The venom was a burning, surging numbness in his veins…
The figures drew back in unison, their sleeves falling to hide the snakes within, and the Priest of the Serpent strode forward to stand over the master of Ornentar Castle.
As the shadow of that dark cowl fell upon him, Eldagh Ornentar looked up in horror and gasped, "Poison! I-I live only at your whim!"
The priest pulled back his cowl to let the baron see the smile on his scaly serpent-face. "That's right," he said triumphantly, his voice seeming to echo down from impossible heights as darkness surged and spun, and Eldagh Ornentar's world whirled away.…
The scene in the mirror faded with the fainting of its baron-and a moment later, the mirror itself seemed to melt and run, losing its shape and slumping in midair like a fistful of icicles dripping floorward.
Horrified, the Baron Loushoond stared up at the Serpent priestess. Her smile was broader now.
Suddenly the ruin of the mirror undulated towards him, like a glass snake swimming through the air. Something as cold as he'd ever felt slapped around his wrist, and his sword clattered from his hand. Loushoond snarled a wordless oath and struggled to heave himself up out of his chair-but by then the glass that had been a mirror and before that a sphere had now become shackles, clamping him into the seat, and the priestess had let her robe fall to the floor and come striding right at him, moving fast.
"By the Three-!" he gasped, voice rising in sudden, real fear.
"They watch, to be sure," she purred, eyes shining in triumph as she lowered