Warlord of Antares by Alan Burt Akers Read Free Book Online Page B

was saying. I brushed him aside and went on in that hard, intemperate bash-on way of Dray Prescot.
    “Csitra can be contained. Her evil was mostly the result of her forced alliance with Phu-Si-Yantong, a most unsavory character whom you might have known as the Hyr Notor. Well, he is dead and well stuffed down on the Ice Floes of Sicce. Yantong and Csitra’s child, Phunik, attempted to carry on the evil work of his father, and now he, too, is dead, blown away in the Quern of Gramarye. The witch has been severely punished already.”
    “But not enough—”
    “Any revenge in the matter of the Lady Hebe is strictly up to you, Loriman. I tell you now in all seriousness that Csitra’s power is insufficient to create further mischief. Her occult meddling can be countered by superior kharrna. This is true, Loriman, believe me as you believe in the Great and Glorious Pandrite.”
    His left fist was gripping and ungripping upon the hilt of his scabbarded sword. His lips twisted. He could see in my face that old demonic look, and he didn’t like it at all. But he listened.
    “From the grouping of continents and islands over on the other side of the world of Kregen come the Shanks. Fish-heads. They burn and slay and spare none, apart from a few wights they keep as slaves who’d be better off dead. These are the foes we here in Paz must confront.”
    “I know of the Shkanes, the Shtarkins. They are all evil, as the Shanks are evil. We will fight them, yes. But before that I will cut down this Csitra, Witch of Loh or no damned Witch of Loh. And that is also true, believe me!”
    His words hung on the close air of that chamber, echoing and ringing. I just hoped our Wizards of Loh were able to continue their occult caul of protection over us.
    Nath the Impenitent broke the spell.
    In his gruff way he rasped out: “At least I shall be spared the task of dragging the Hunting Kov about by the collar.”
    Seg laughed, as amused as I by the contrast.
    As though the casual use of the names of powerful sorcerers summoned up their opposites, the phantasmal form of Deb-Lu shimmered against the wall. His newish turban toppled dangerously over one ear, his kindly face was marked by intense concentration. His robes, as always, looked as though he’d been pulled through a hedge backward. But his power was undeniable.
    He beckoned.
    “That,” said Seg, “is the way out.”
    “Aye.”
    Kov Loriman the Hunter wanted to continue the argument; but with the Wizard of Loh to act as our guide out of the Coup Blag, we had no wish to hang about further. With the women straggling along before and aft, we set off to follow Deb-Lu. Loriman’s face resembled black thunder.
    “Very well, then, run! As for me — there is a task set to my hands within this evil place.”

Chapter six
    Concerns a Star of Death
    The Hunting Kov acted on his own words without a heartbeat’s hesitation.
    His bulk shouldered the women aside. One tumbled to her knees, hair falling forward, her cry lost in the general hubbub. Loriman charged back, returning the way we had traversed.
    The women cowered out of his way, distressed, not understanding as he barged past like a runaway chunkrah.
    At the last he turned to look back.
    His face, always hard and arrogant, held now a flushed look of triumph. There was in that fanatical expression an expressive wealth of dedication. Slave to his ideals of hunting, Kov Loriman had now been consumed utterly by them.
    He visualized in Csitra the Witch the ultimate quarry.
    The dust of the corridors, the rank smell of the women, the feeling of pressure of millions of tons of rock pressing in all about us, added as it were a tonal palette to the emotions flooding Kov Loriman.
    He shook his sword aloft.
    “By Hito the Hunter! She shall not survive me, that I swear by Pandrite the All-Glorious!” He slashed his sword down. “
Hai, Jikai!
”
    He swung about, the light glanced once upon the metal of his harness, and he was gone.
    Seg laughed.