The armor would open that path for him, of that he had become obsessively certain. Malevolyn's extensive research had indicated that Bartuc had imbued the suit with formidable enchantments. The general's own meager powers had already been augmented by the helmet; surely the complete, ensorcelled suit would give him what he desired. Surely the shade of Bartuc wanted that. The visions had to be a sign.
"There is one thing I can tell you, my general," the sorceress whispered. "One thing to encourage you in your quest…"
He seized her by her arms. "What? What is it?"
She grimaced momentarily from the pain of his grip. "He-the fool who wears the armor now-he comes nearer!"
"To us?"
"Perhaps, if the helmet and the rest are meant to be with one another, but even if not so, the closer he comes, the better I'll be able to specifically locate him!" Galeona pulled one arm free, then touched Malevolyn's chin. "You can wait just a little longer, my love. Just a little longer…"
Releasing her, the general considered. "You will check each morning and each evening! You will spare no effort! The moment you can identify where this cretin is located, I must know! We shall march immediately after! Nothing must stand between me and my destiny!"
He seized the helmet and, without another word, departed from her tent, his aides quickly falling into line behind him. Malevolyn's mind raced as he pictured himself in the ensorcelled armor. Demonic legions would rise to his command. Cities would fall. An empire spanning… spanning the world … would spring up.
Augustus Malevolyn hugged the helmet almost protectively as he returned to his own quarters. Galeona had the right of it. He only had to be a little more patient. The armor would come to him.
"I will do as you once dreamed of doing," he whispered to the absent shade of Bartuc. "Your legacy will be my destiny!" The general's eyes gleamed. "And soon…"
The witch shuddered as Malevolyn vanished through the tent's flap. He had grown more unstable of late, especially the longer he wore the ancient helm. On one occasion she had even caught him speaking as if he were the Warlord of Blood himself. Galeona knew that the helmet-and likely all the armor-contained some mysterious magical force, but as of yet she had been able to neither identify nor control it.
If she could control it… she would not need her loverany longer. A pity in some ways, but there were always other males. Other more malleable males.
A voice broke the silence, a scratchy, deep voice that even to the witch sounded something akin to the buzzing of a thousand dying flies. "Patience is virtue… this one should know! One hundred twenty-three years on this mortal plane in search of the warlord! So long… and now it comes together…"
Galeona looked around at the shadows, searching for one in particular. She finally noticed it in a far corner of the tent, a wavering, insectlike figure only visible to one who truly looked close. "Be silent! Someone may hear!"
"No one hears when this one chooses," the voice rasped. "Know you that well, human—"
"Then quiet your voice for my sanity, Xazax." The dark-skinned sorceress stared at the shadow but did not approach it. Even after all this time, she did not entirely trust her constant companion.
"So tender the ears of a human." The shadow took more form, now resembling a specific insect, a praying mantis. Yet, such a mantis would have been more than seven feet tall, if not more. "So soft and failing their bodies—"
"You'd do well not to talk of failures."
A low, chittering noise spread throughout the tent. Galeona steeled herself, knowing that her companion did not like to be corrected.
Xazax moved, shifting closer. "Tell this one of the vision shared."
"You saw it."
"But this one would hear it from you… Please… indulge this one."
"Very well." Taking a deep breath, she described in as good detail as she could the man and the armor. Xazax surely had seen everything, but for some reason the fool always made her go over the visions. Galeona tried tohurry matters by ignoring the man for the most part, going more into the armor itself and the landscape vaguely seen in the background.
Xazax suddenly cut her off. "This one knows that the armor is true! This one knows that it wanders this mortal plane! The human! What about the human?"
"Perfectly ordinary. Nothing special about him."
"Nothing is ordinary! Describe!"
"A soldier. Plain of face. A simple fighter, probably the son of farmers, from the looks of him. Nothing extraordinary. Some poor fool who stumbled onto the armor and, as the general clearly thinks, has no idea what it is."
Again the chittering. The shadow withdrew slightly. When Xazax spoke, he sounded extremely disappointed. "Certain that this mortal journeys nearer?"
"So it seems."
The murky form grew still. Xazax clearly had something in mind. Galeona waited… and waited some more. Xazax had no concept of time where others were concerned, only when it came to his own needs and desires.
Two flashes of deep yellow momentarily appeared where the head of the shadow seemed to be. What might have been the outline of an appendage ending in threeclawed digits shifted momentarily into sight, then quickly vanished again.
"Let him come, then. This one will have decided by then whether one puppet is better than another…" Xazax's form grew indistinct. All semblance of a mantis, of any creature, faded away. "Let him come…"
The shadow melted into the darkened corners.
Galeona swore to herself. She had learned much from the foul creature, increased her power in so many ways because of his past guidance. Yet, much more than Augustus she would have preferred disposing of Xazax, being rid of his horrid self. The general could be manipulatedto a point, but not so her secret companion. With Xazax, the sorceress played a continual game of cat and mouse and too often she felt like the latter of the two creatures. However, one did not simply break a pact with Xazax's kind; if done without precautions, Galeona might find herself minus her limbs and her head-all before he finally let her die.
And that made her consider at last something new.
He who wore Bartuc's armor certainly looked to be a warrior, a fighter, and, as she had also described him, a simple man, too. In other words, a fool. Galeona knew well how to manipulate such. As a man, he would be defenseless against her charms; as a fool, he would never realize that fact.
She would have to see how matters went with both the general and Xazax. If it seemed one or the other still worked to her advantage, Galeona would do what she could to tip the balance that way. Malevolyn with the armor his to command could certainly deal with her shadowy partner. However, if Xazax gained the ensorcelled artifacts first, truly he would be the one to follow.
Still, the stranger remained a possibility. Certainly he could be led around by the nose, told what to do. He presented potential where the other two presented risk.
Yes, Galeona intended to keep an eye on this fool for her own good. He would be far more susceptible to her desires than an ambitious and slightly mad military commander-and certainly far less dangerous than a demon.
Three
Blood.
"By all that's holy, Norrec? What've you done?"
"Norrec. My friend. Perhaps you should take off that glove."