Great Ape, Chapter Two: Googenhench's Pane

[Lord Zombiac]

Chapter Two: Googenhench’s Pane

Gathered at the stone table in Baelbozurg’s hall were the usual assortment of subhuman consorts. Creshpaw the dog eater gorged himself on the still steaming entrails of a slaughtered hound. His paws were bloody. The serpent woman tipped a fuming chalice and drank something that flashed in the fumes. The hands of tonight’s lovers had already begun to wander over her body. Nightmask the unblemished licked a large crystal of salt with his forked tongue and he fiddled with the knife in his belt as though he grew impatient to stab someone.

The Crimson clad Dwarves sang and clashed on black painted tambourines, fringes hanging with clanking bird skulls.

On his high chair, Baelbozurg presided over this gruesome feast, wearing his formal gown of black and lime green. Baelbozurg’s face had been painted with jet ichor, masking his eyes and merging with his locks of long raven hair. He tossed me scraps and I lunged for them hungrily, testing the bonds of my gleaming chrome manacles. Each time a piece of food was out of my reach the guests laughed loudly and pointed at me. The fat, two-headed Googenhench, arrayed in ermine trimmed satin of deep forest green, laughed loudest. It was he who insisted on “tormenting that ape” at every gathering. Yet the sulfur vortex poured him his wine, a creature that I alone had learned to care for once it had been summoned.

The sulfur vortex topped their drinks and the guests began calling for a toast. So Baelbozurg stood and nodded solemnly.

“We are gathered here at the feast of the nine bloods, as we do every year, here in Typhebdis and some of you honor me by coming here from as far away as Uld, in the distant desert. As you know, I am on a great undertaking for which I am admired the underworld over. The old gods are pleased with my sacrifices and I have called forth the four haunted columns on which Uttertup shall be founded. It is a fine thing,” said he, with a pause, “and a great shame that none of you shall live to look on it. From this night on I needs work alone. The time for feasts and revelry is past. It is worthy of my stature to no longer fraternize with others. I have no further use for you. You shall all be killed this night!”

Startled, the guests looked at him with gaping jaws. Nightmask the unblemished drew his knife and scowled angrily. But blood began seeping from the walls, and I knew that he had given the signal for the Heldrinkers to come.

Through oaken door they filed, wearing tattered rags of dusty grey, their bloodless, shrunken heads crowned with merciless yellow eyes, and their long spiderlike fingers scraping across the floor as they dragged their unearthly, long arms.

“What trickery is this?” demanded Creshpaw, his fetid breath withering those around him.

“My good Creshpaw. I am on the verge of a staggering triumph of power. It is unseemly for an immortal creature to consort with the likes of you. To arms, Heldrinkers! It is time to kill!”

The Heldrinkers quickly produced ten inch needles and leapt on the banquet table as the guests stood, made angered oaths, and tried to get to the door. All were armed now. Only Nightmask the unblemished tried to circumvent the whole affair by attacking Baelbozurg himself. He deftly avoided the Heldrinker nearest him and charged Baelbozurg with his knife flashing in the torchlight.

Baelbozurg threw his head back and roared his laughter at the sight of this. He waved his wand and the torches all went out, casting the room in impenetrable blackness. The screams began and I dropped my scraps of food and huddled in the darkness, shivering. I heard the bodies thud on the floor and the screams turned to gasps of death. Baelbozurg’s laughter peeled richly into the stifling darkness.

“Zombiac! the time for your fetters is past,” announced Baelbozurg. At other times, a pronounced buzzing had obscured the sound of my name. Now that I knew it, this power held no sway over my ears. At that moment, freedom flashed across my mind, and as if in response to this freedom, my manacles dropped to the ground with a clang.

Fire sprung from Baelbozurg’s wand and I watched the Heldrinkers file back from whence they had come in the mirky light. Not a drop of blood remained in the bodies that were piled around the banquet table.

Baelbozurg addressed me again.

“Tonight when the rays of the moon fall upon the glyph of great doom, you shall be in the alter room with a fresh sacrifice, my pet. I have assembled a team of horsemen in the courtyard and they await you. You shall need all of them to lay grasp upon the sacrifice, but she must remain untouched by human hands. You will bring her here in no greater a time than an hour. Her name is Ondrymi. She is the daughter of Loomgrin the sell-sword. My spies have heard him plotting against me, and for this he must die. Of course, no number of Grogens could subdue him, but these horsemen of mine are all savages and they carry spears tipped with titan’s metal. Go to them now, Zombiac. Remember you have no more than an hour. I shall be in the altar room, meditating.”

Baelbozurg spun on his heels and followed the last of the Heldrinkers through his door. the torches began to rekindle and I walked quietly among the bodies, contemplating my own name as I had heard it uttered on Baelbozurg’s lips for the first time. Again I thought to myself, when others utter the name of Zombiac, what will they speak of me?

I glanced upon the dead, contorted faces. He had decided he had no further use for them. Would he one day soon have no further use of me?

Then I saw the bloodless lips of Googenhench move. I saw his hand clench in a beckoning gesture. I went to him and put my face next to his.

“Ape,” he said quietly, “I may speak until midnight, though I be dead. My soul belongs to the Heldrinkers unless you can return me to my own land, among my own kinsmen to be buried. Among your master’s treasures is a pane of glass which I gave him long ago. I may yet summon strength to my body and shatter this pane. He who shatters it will be spirited away to wherever he wishes.”

“I know not how to enter Baelbozurg’s treasury,” I said, “and besides, you are no friend of mine that I should do you any favors.”

“I will tell you how to enter that chamber. You can help yourself to your master’s riches. That shall be your reward.”

I felt like spitting on him and turning away, yet an idea came to my head.
“Tell me,” I said.

Googenhench told me of a secret door which opened at the utterance of a secret word. I promised him I would take care of his soul and padded away, new ideas sizzling in my brain. I had no intention of returning to help him, or indeed of returning to this keep. I would never lay hands on an innocent girl again, much less the daughter of a good hearted man who had called me friend. My betrayal would set Baelbozurg’s work back many years, and make him an enemy forever, but my name would have honor, even if it were only scrawled on a tombstone.

In the light of a single torch I ran, knowing I had to be quick. Every step steeled my resolve further. I would never wear this wizard’s chains again, even at the price of my very life.
At the entrance to Baelbozurg’s treasury stood two guards, armed with short swords. Both were Grogens, nearly blind and with charred, half fleshless skulls. As they saw me approach, they jerked to attention and held out their weapons. I rocked on my heels, making them unsure when I might spring out and fight them. They responded in sickening, twitching motions devoid of grace or intelligence.

I swung my torch at the first one’s body, and as he lowered his sword to block it, I swiftly arched my torch away and brought it down against his head.

“There’s some fire for your head!” I exclaimed, bringing the thick flaming wood down again and again as the other Grogen stumbled forward to swing at me.

The first one had fallen to his knees. It was all he could do to hold on to his sword, much less swing it. The other stabbed at my ribs, but I quickly batted the sword from his grasp with my torch. Suddenly I tumbled after and picked the sword up in my left hand, which had always been my better hand. I threw the torch to the floor and the Grogens shamelessly bent their heads to the fire, no longer caring to fight me, so long as they could blaze up their brains in the flames. I kicked the torch down the hall and they scurried after it.

I knew they would be back, perhaps with more Grogens. So I spoke the magic word and indeed a panel of the wall withdrew and the blackness yawned ahead of me.

I walked into the room and could already see by the light of a sculpture of a cat with glowing eyes and a cuneiform tablet with letters that glowed. In that dim light I could see a small, handsome windowpane. When I touched the pane it shimmered by its own light and I could dimly see distant landscapes in it.

I glanced about and saw heavy bags of gold. I emptied one and placed the pane within it. The gold I could not carry, but I needed money for my escape. A small coffer by the gold proved to contain a handful of extraordinary jewels, cut with dazzling facets. These I tucked away into my bag. I was now ready to leave.

I darted into the corridor with short sword lifted. It was good that I did because four Grogens waited there for me. I put down my bag and placed my back to the wall. They lurched forward, but their gait was clumsy and jerky. I pitched my sword into the ribs of the closest and kicked him away as his blood spurted. I parried a well aimed swing and lopped off another’s head. Not pausing, I threw my back to the other wall, forcing the remaining two to shift their position. The first one came forward too uncertainly, and I delivered a stroke that severed his sword arm. The last one I met with a lunge and he soon could only defend himself. In a few moments a well placed stab dispatched him and I snatched up my bag and headed to the courtyard.

I hid in the shadows and saw that they waited for me, complaining among themselves as their steeds shifted around in the light drizzle.

I decided to get a head start on them and stole away through the southern gate. I knew where Loomgrin was camping and kept in shadows the whole way. Nonetheless, before I was close enough to see his camp, one of his scouts had found me and put a spear against my throat.

“State your business,” he said.

“I come to warn Loomgrin that his intentions have been discovered. A team of savage horsemen waits for me to join them and capture Ondrymi, but they will not wait long. The Grogens will soon warn them that I have turned against my master. Take me to my friend.”

The scout looked me up and down.

“Come,” he said at last and whistled loudly thrice.

Loomgrin came from his tent to meet us. Without ceremony, I hastily told him all that had passed. He nodded grimly.

“Will you stand with me?” he asked.

“Yes, I will,” I said, and tapped the bag I carried lightly, “and I have something that will help us. In this bag I bear Googenhench’s Pane, a thing of magic. Whoever breaks the glass shall be spirited away by magic to wherever they wish to go. With this Ondrymi can be spared . I doomed a man’s soul to damnation so that she might use it.”

Loomgrin turned to his scout.

“Tell my daughter to come here at once. Then round up the fighters. We will fight a battle here tonight against wild horsemen!”

When the scout had left, the hulking man smiled at me and nodded in approval.

“I see you have made your decision, Zombiac. If we live through this night, you will know what it is like to live as a man lives. You shall be nobody’s vassal and you shall discover strength you never knew you had.”

“I fear there will be a price on my head. But I will be able to lift that head with pride.”

I reached in the bag and pulled out the magical windowpane. Pity the thing could only be used once, but I had known from the beginning who would use it. She walked out to meet us, even as the drizzle grew into a shower. Loomgrin explained the magic and told her he might never see her again. She wept and he told her she must be strong and use the magic now.

“Think of home and break the glass,” he said.

“I don’t think I can bear to leave you, father,” she told him, rain washing her tears.

“Now don’t worry. I will fight these savages, and I know a thing or two about fighting. But in case I never see you again, be at peace. Use the magic before it is too late!”

Ondrymi knelt and picked up a rock.

“Wait,” I said, “I’ve seen enough magic to know that it always exacts a price. I think you need to break it with your fist. You may need to shed a little blood.”

“Are you sure it will work?” she asked.

“You must be the one who is sure,” I said, “think of your home and throw a punch.”

Suddenly, she threw her arms around her father’s neck and sobbed a grateful goodbye. Then, just as suddenly, she swung at the mirror with her bare fist. The glass broke with an ear splitting sound and light poured from the pane. When the flash of light was gone, so was Ondrymi.
Loomgrin sagged wearily and drew his great sword Mustardseed.

“Look, they come,” he said, gazing at the torches and hearing the galloping of horses, “but my men are already here. Brace yourself for a hell of a skirmish.”

The shower turned storm right as the riders swung into view. Arrows flew into their ranks and a number of them fell clean off their horses. Suddenly stout men sprang from the darkness and battle was joined. It was hard not to watch Loomgrin fight. He hewed them all in half as though they had been sent to him for that purpose. I needed my wits to dodge spears, though. It was not easy, for these savages were mounted and this added speed to their attacks that I had not yet known. I quickly found that if I could parry a blow and step inside of their range, I was free to hack them apart with my short sword. They could do nothing once I was past their spear tips.

In the end, this group of savages faltered and fled. They had been prepared to ambush Loomgrin and take his daughter, not to fight an evenly matched war. Many fled, but none escaped. Too many well placed arrows soon cleared the battlefield and we had bought a little time. A few of Loomgrin’s men had been killed or injured, but we had won and no one would venture out in this bleak night after us.

We had time to pack up and leave. We would cover our traces. I had slipped from the wizard’s yoke, but not his wrath.

I looked at the cloudy sky and began to laugh. Baelbozurg would not have had his moonlight anyway!