The Hammer - Cor Series Book I

Corvan expected to see a squad of red-cloaked soldiers march into the hall. Instead, the large black lizard that had taken the key from Tarran slipped through the door with a rustle of scales and keen eyes searching the room. Corvan pushed back on the ledge.

Tyreth’s father stepped away from the tapestry. “Chief Watcher, we are honored to have your presence in our quarters. May you find the truth you seek.”

A chortling hiss of a laugh slithered across the room. “High Priessst of the Cor, this time your pious religious greeting is most appropriate for what I seek is standing right before me.” It gestured with its damaged paw, the long, polished claw glinting in the light of the overhead lumien. “The mossst lovely Tyreth.”

“Why would you seek me, mossst honorable Watcher?” Tyreth replied, her voice thick with sarcasm.

The black spines on the lizard’s neck stiffened. “I think you know my purpose here. I believe your spies have already announced my arrival.” The hissing words were now clipped and suppressed.

The High Priest folded his arms. “If you have business in our quarters, then you are required to state it clearly, Chief Watcher.”

“Oh, yes. You and your precious laws. Of course, we all must keep the laws and obey the priests. If we do, then the light will come back to the Cor and truth and justice will flow from the temple, just as it shows in your beautiful tapestry.”

The black lizard approached the wall hanging. “It’s a wonderful thing, this religion of yours. False hope is so useful in keeping you humans in line.”

As the Chief Watcher examined the tapestry, the High Priest stepped in behind it. “Hope is all the people have these days. Everything else has been taken by the palace.”

The lizard whirled about, its thick tail slapping the wall.

“Do not abuse your position by insulting me, High Priest. It is only by my permission that your religion survives. Most people find my Wasting Ceremonies much more satisfying than your tired old practices, perhaps even more hopeful.”

“Yes,” Tyreth said coldly. “First you take away their food, then you have them worship gods who will give it back so long as they sacrifice the best and brightest of their youth—the only ones who might eventually stand up to you.”

The reptile’s face contorted, and the sharp spines around its neck pushed out like an angry porcupine. It studied Tyreth through narrowed eyes. “You are the brightest I have seen for a long time, Tyreth. Now I understand why Morgan was so determined to acquire you for himself.” He sneered. “But I do not have the same use for you as he did. Instead, the next Wasting Ceremony will be your punishment for defying me.”

The old man shook his finger at the Chief Watcher. “I demand a trial by the city council. She is the High Priest’s daughter.”

The black lizard leaped forward and shoved the elderly man to his knees. “Do not demand anything from me, priest.” It grabbed the old man’s hair and yanked his head back. The long lone claw was dragged across the High Priest’s wrinkled neck. “I hold your life in my hands and will do as I wish.”

The claw pointed to the door. “Does it not seem strange to you that I am here without any of my men? Without my Rakash? They all know I am here to arrest your daughter, so if I say you attacked me and I had to kill you, then that is what they will believe.”

“You can’t deceive everyone.” The High Priest tried to pull away, but his hair was held fast. “The truth will eventually be known. You can’t kill the truth.”

The lizard pulled the old man’s head closer and stared into his eyes. “The only truth that matters is that I rule Kadir.” It gestured toward the tapestry. “Even your precious religion and your Cor-Van could not—” A long, hiss filled the chamber, as if a writhing nest of snakes had awakened from hibernation.

The lizard dragged the High Priest toward the wall. “Where did you get this tapestry? This is not from Kadir.”

Tyreth’s father raised his head. “It has always been kept at the temple. The legends say that only the Cor-Van can say what it means.”

“Legends!” The lizard spat the word in the old man’s face. “When I am finished, that’s all you priests will be, legends.” It pressed the point of his claw into the taut skin of the old man’s neck. Drops of blood welled up and trickled down into the folds of the priest’s robe. “Your foolish plans to overthrow me have failed.” The Chief Watcher pushed the old man’s head back even farther, and the High Priest’s gaze fell directly on Corvan’s face. His eyes grew wide.

The chair shattering over the lizard’s back toppled its scaly body into a heap under the tapestry. Tyreth rushed into stand over her father. Her shoulders heaving as she clutched two legs of a broken chair in her fists.

The scaley reptile uncoiled like a snake rising from a basket, then it leapt toward the young woman. Brushing the chair legs aside, it lifted her struggling body over its head, strode to the huge table, and slammed her on top of it.

Spinning her body to bring her face closer to the edge, it pushed its nose against her cheek. “If you were not so useful to me in destroying this foolish religion, I would kill you now. Fearless ones like you are most dangerous, especially beautiful ones the men will follow.” The lizard pulled back and studied her face for a long moment before its claw flicked out and ripped a jagged gash across her right cheek. Tyreth cried out and clasped her hand over the wound. Blood squeezed past her fingers and dripped off her wrist onto the table.

The thin, forked tongue of the Chief Watcher whipped out and licked its claw clean. It looked down at Tyreth writhing in pain and clicked its teeth. “Sssuch a waste.”

It turned back to the High Priest. “I believe your daughter just saved your life, old man, for I did not use enough of my poison to kill you. Instead, you will live to see her sacrificed to the Cor’s new gods at the next water ceremony.” It looked back to Tyreth. The sinews in its neck were twisting and jumping. “Yessss, this will be a special event. I will have all the priests summoned from the settlements to join us for the trial of Tyreth, daughter of the former temple. I do hope you live long enough to see this, High Priest. Once Tarran is hunted down, it will be a fitting end to your family line and your hopeless faith.”

The lizard sauntered away from the table and shouted a command. In an instant, the hall was filled with soldiers.

“Take these two to the cells,” the Chief Watcher commanded. “When I questioned them on the whereabouts of Tarran, they attacked me.” It pointed to the pieces of chair scattered across the floor. “The punishment for such treason is death.”

The soldiers stood still, staring at the High Priest and the scene before them.

“I said take them!”

The men scurried to help Tyreth from the table and her father to his feet and ushered them toward the door as if something terrible might happen to them at any moment. Tyreth pushed the men away with her free hand and walked before them with her head held high. Blood ran from the hand on her cheek and dripped from her wrist to mark her path as she exited the hall.

When he reached the doorway, the High Priest wrenched himself free and turned around. His face was toward the lizard, but his eyes were firmly fixed on Corvan. He put his hands together as if he were praying and pointed the tips of his fingers at Corvan. “This is not over, Chief Watcher. The Cor-Van will soon be here and put an end to your tyranny.”

The black lizard dismissed the old man with a contemptuous wave of his arm.

Corvan watched transfixed as the High Priest backed slowly from the room with the soldiers following him. Why had the man point his fingers in that way? They were already inside the peaked roof of the priest’s temple.

As the footsteps of the soldiers faded away, the Chief Watcher remained motionless, studying the tapestry for what seemed an eternity. Finally, it extended its long claw and crudely cut a large circle from the fabric. The sound was like fingernails on a chalkboard and sent shivers down Corvan’s spine.

The jagged piece of tapestry fell to the floor. The lizard picked it up and folded it into a neat packet.

“Now, it is over, High Priest,” it muttered.

The black creature turned on its heel and strode toward the door, and then it whirled about and looked past the glow of the large lumien directly at Corvan’s hiding place. “I almost forgot about you.”

Corvan could only watch helplessly as the lizard dropped the folded tapestry on the other, unbroken chair. Pulling a short, curved blade from a scabbard at its waist, it gave it a twist. The blad opened to a circle of four hooked blades. With practiced ease, it pulled back and released the weapon.

Corvan had no time to move. A flash of silver whirred past his face and then turned back to its owner. The lizard caught his weapon in midair and stepped back. Its cruel face was full of anticipation.

In the stillness, drops of shimmering fluid splashed on the table beneath the lumien. The large globe shuddered and fell a few inches. Its main cord was almost severed by the lizard’s flying blade. A growing stream of luminescent drips trickled onto the table as long tendrils reached out from the vines to keep the heavy globe from falling.

It was too late. The stem snapped, dropping the lumien with a sickening splat on the stone table. The globe convulsed and burst, sending pieces raining down over the stone floor.

The lizard leaped into the quivering mass, flicked his weapon back to a single blade, and slashed away at the center of the smashed globe. Shards of light flickered amid the flesh of the shattered lumien until he finally drew out a pulsing red core. Clutching it to his chest, he poked about greedily in the pulpy flesh while sloshing his way about on top of the table. Finally, he jumped down, slipped his knife away, and kicked aside a chunk of the lumien’s thick skin. “Just like everything else in this foolish religion. The mother plant was also a lie. Only one heart.”

As it held up the glistening red pod, its face wrinkled with worry, then its eyes narrowed in anger. “I won’t become an animal again.” It spat the words out. “You,” it pointed at the ruined tapestry. “You fed the power to me.” The lizard lifted the red core before the hole in the cloth. “You wanted me to understand, but soon I will make you pay for what you have done to me.”

Tipping its head back, it dropped the lumien heart into it mouth, chewing and exhaling in ecstasy. Blood red juice trickled out between its pointed teeth and dripped off its chin. The creature’s dark eyes closed in intense satisfaction—then bugged open as if they would pop out of its head. Every vein in its neck twisted and jerked as the lizard, writhing and gurgling, fell to the floor.

A pool of shadows spread out from around the contorted body as if the creature were bleeding darkness. The light falling from the skylight dimmed, and the temperature of the air dropped. The Chief Watcher lay whimpering on the floor, its breath shooting from its nostrils in spasmodic jets of vapor.

The lizard gave one last agonizing cry, then it lay still. The light from the lumiens outside pushed in through the skylights and flowed down to spotlight the dark creature.

The lizard groaned, rolled onto its knees, and looked into the light. A thin smile spread across its face. “Such amazing power in only one seed, but now I clearly see what I must do to defeat you.”

The Chief Watcher struggled to its feet before sticking its good claw under a thick collar around its neck. “And then I will finally free,” it snarled.

The words had no sooner left its lips than the black lizard hunched low, glancing nervously into the hallway.

Satisfied that no one was listening, the Chief Watcher raised its head, strode out the door, and slammed it shut behind him.