The Centaur Read Free

the silence that followed.
    “I want your loyalty. You know the ancient words of banishment. Your minions still follow you. Give back something to the world you used so cruelly.” The glowing visage was difficult to look at in the utter darkness surrounding the prison cell.
    “Can you release me from this prison, my Lord?”
    “I can.”
    “Will you release me on my word?”
    “I will.”
    “In return for my freedom, I offer the sum total of my services, my undying loyalty and my eternal gratitude for the remainder of my life.”
    “And I will require your unerring devotion for the rest of your life.”
    “Devotion?”
    “Devotion. You will serve only me. You will obey only me. Even in the face of utter destruction, you will obey no other. In return for your service, I will give Inanna to you, if she is of a mind to receive you. I will broker a deal with her on your behalf. If she agrees, then you may join with her and depart from this world in peace.”
    The demon let go a long, low growl that ended in a miserable moan. “She will never have me back!!” The words were filled with pain.
    “Swear it!”
    “I swear it, Master.”
    A brilliant flash of light erupted within the tight enclosure and the demon screamed in despair before finding himself crawling about in the dirt beneath a clear, night sky full of brilliant stars and a sliver of the waning crescent moon. He stopped at the sight of two black boots in front of him.
    He was yanked roughly to his feet and left staring into the shadowy face of his captor in the unmistakable glow of firelight. A sweet smell emanated from the fire behind him and a double circle traced in the dirt, filled with strange symbols, surrounded them. A chill wind brushed his face and lightning flashed all around them. The tormented demon shrieked in terror as a green bolt of electricity dug a small crater just outside the protected circle. Horizontal rain lashed the boulders and scraggly brush visible through the hazy green dome. A tremendous storm was raging just outside the circle and he realized that he was in human form again. He squinted at the figure in front of him. Water dripped from the Knight’s long, dark hair onto his bare chest. He saw the claws of the green and black dragon and the awful scars and knew that the Templar Knight standing in front of him was dressed only in a bedraggled Scottish kilt was none other than his worst nightmare, the Chevalier du Morte. The storm intensified and he could hear the noise of golf ball-sized hail bouncing off the rocks.
    “Master,” he bowed his head immediately.
    “Sit.” Mark pushed him toward a low, flat boulder near a blazing fire.
    The dark angel, once more clad in the form of Ernst Schweikert, sat down on the rock.
    Mark walked around him and picked up a goatskin sack full of wine. He thrust the bag at the terrified creature and then stood watching as he drank down the wine in huge gulps. When the bag was empty, Mark began to pace back and forth, laying out his plans and instructions for his new assistant.
    The Lord of the Scorpions listened attentively to his new Master, wondering vaguely what had happened to him, who had imprisoned him in the crystal chamber and what had happened to the precious crystal skull he had been carrying before suddenly being snatched into the ether.
     
     
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    “She will know.” Omar shook his head adamantly. Luke’s plan was crazy. He couldn’t possibly just waltz into New Babylon, pretending to be Jozsef Daniel, who was pretending to be Omar Kadif. One look at his face would give him away when he had to confront Huber. “I can’t.”
    Omar threw the smudged towel in the corner of the tent and Luke Andrew went after it. He picked up the formerly white cloth and sat down on a small canvas stool where he began to clean his sword and scabbard of the accumulated grime of the day. The blowing grit had dogged them all day, obscuring the sky and making the