"The Crown of Boundless Knowledge"
"The Crown of Boundless Knowledge"
8/22/1981
I.
Jeremy Bane parked his dark green Ford Mustang by the side of the country back road and hopped out. At twenty-four, the Dire Wolf was at a physical peak and burning with excess nervous energy he needed to vent. Almost exactly six feet tall and weighing one hundred and seventy pounds, he looked slim and athletic without being obviously muscular. He was built like a runner rather than a weight lifter. The black slacks, turtleneck and sports jacket gave him a sinister appearance which was accented by the pale grey eyes under dark feral brows. Those eyes never stopped moving, analyzing, accusing.
He was gazing at a yard about fifty feet to each side, with tall dry grass which had not been mowed in some time. A one-story white house with a slate roof, no more than five rooms, stood at the rear of the yard up against the birch and elms which marked the forest. The hard-packed gravel driveway held a beat-up Dodge Ram with considerable rust around the rear wheels, and two old tires were stacked with other debris next to the pick-up. As Bane closed his car door, a redheaded man in blue jeans and faded work shirt stood up from where he had been kneeling by his garden.
The Dire Wolf strode quickly toward the man without a greeting. He had read all the KDF files on him but wanted to add up his own impressions. William Scott Delaney was forty-five. Standing an inch over six feet tall, he would weigh about two hundred and twenty pounds. The man was obviously in great shape, with wide shoulders and a narrow waist, hard biceps stretching the sleeves of his shirt. Delaney had dark brown hair and eyes in a lined, weathered face. The deepset eyes, long straight nose and lantern jaw gave him a mournful Puritanical look.
Just the easy way he rose from a kneeling position without having to use his hands for balance or to push himself up showed he was fit. "What do you want?"
"My name is Bane. Jeremy Bane, from the Kenneth Dred Foundation," the Dire Wolf replied. He stopped while well out of reach, standing with feet apart in a ready stance.
"Oh, the great Dire Wolf!" Delaney scoffed. "Yeah, I've heard lots of wild stories about you. I repeat, what do you want?"
"We need your help, Mr Delaney. You may be the only one who can help us keep powerful talismans out of the hands of a dangerous sorcerer."
"None of my business," Delaney snapped. "The world leaves me alone and I leave it alone, we're both better off that way. Get out of here."
Bane frowned more than usual. This was not going at all as he expected. "I've heard about you, too. The Kumundu Kid. Back in the early '60s, you were quite a hero. You were the best knight Tel Shai had, and the youngest if I remember right. Nineteen when you started."
"That was the wrong thing to say! Goddam it, you have got some nerve bringing up Tel Shai to me!"
"I know you were expelled from the Order--" Bane began but he was cut off by furious swearing from the man.
"Expelled! That's a nice way to put it. After all I did, all the monsters I tracked down and the maniacs I captured, after six years of risking my life time after time, the Teachers threw me out like a used rag. And do you know why?"
The Dire Wolf had not reacted to the anger, his voice remained quiet and controlled. The pale eyes were fixed on the man he had driven all day to see. "No. I don't."
"Because I tried to save my sister. Alicia was fourteen. She was in horrible pain, dying of kidney disease, the doctors said there was nothing I could do. So I shared what Tagra I had with her. She started getting better and then the Teachers summoned me to Tel Shai. That high-and-mighty bitch Anulka had seen in my mind what I had intended. You can't hide anything from telepaths for long. I had to stand before all eight Teachers and take their sermons without flinching. Then, just like that, they disowned me."
Bane had moved closer, still with his hands down by his sides, not assuming any threatening pose. "What happened to her?"
"She died, what do you think? The light of my life. My baby sister. It wasn't luck until I ran out of the Tagra leaves and there was nothing I could do for her." Delaney folded his arms across his broad chest and took a breath. "Go away. Get out of here."
"I don't always agree with the policies the Teachers have established," Bane told him. "They're wise and a hundred years old and all that, but they are not perfect. No one is. They've set rules I think are wrong. But being a knight means access to all the training that helps me carry out my mission in life, so I go along with it. It's compromise."
"Well, aren't you the little diplomat? I told you to get lost once, I'm going to throw you off my property in a second."
Again, Bane did not respond to his hostility. He pointed at the rectangle of soil lined with plants that Delaney had been tending. "Those purple leaves look awful familiar. Arrowhead-shaped, growing on short stalks that way, I'd say those are Tagra plants."
"I smuggled a handful of seeds back to this world before the Teachers threw me out," Delaney said. "It's not easy growing these plants, they're delicate and they need constant care. And they didn't start sprouting until long after my Alicia was gone."
"There's nothing we can do about the past," Bane said. "I'm asking you to step up now and do the right thing. Feeling sorry for yourself won't save all the other Alicias out there."
Delaney raised his hands and curled them into knobby fist. "That's enough! I know about you, Bane. I'm not intimidated. I have been trained in Kumundu too, I have been living on massive amounts of Tagra tea and most important, I really want to beat you into a bloody mess that can't even beg me to stop. Let's go."
II.
The Dire Wolf did not move in response, and his voice remained confident. "Be serious. I'll put two bullets in your knees before you can reach me. No one's healing is good enough to ignore that. I have nothing to prove and I'm not going to slug it out with you for fun. Let me try another approach."
"Like what?"
"Like offering money," Bane said. "Why not? I can get you twenty thousand in cash today with a phone call, tax free. Maybe you don't want much out of life any more, but money in the hand is always reassuring."
Just like that, the tension between the two men evaporated. Delaney lowered his fists and unclenched them, sticking his thumbs in the loops of his belt. "I'm about due for a commission at that. I haven't taken one in months. Where did you get that twenty thousand figure anyway?"
"I know the Sifu of the Black Mantis school in Manhattan. One of the students said that was how much you asked to chase away some White Web snoopers. I can meet that and maybe give an equal bonus if the mission is successful. Interested?"
William Delaney nodded slowly. "All right. Let's sit in those lawn chairs and palaver." The former Kumundu master swung around and headed over to where two cheap plastic-over-aluminum lawn chairs sat facing out toward the road. In doing so, he deliberately left his back exposed for an attack.
"We'll be going to Khebir," Bane told him as they reached the chairs. "All I know is that it's an abandoned adjacent realm. Modern technology won't work there, not even a cigarette lighter. So there won't be any guns involved and martial arts fighters will have an advantage over the untrained."
Plopping down and crossing his right leg over his left knee, Delaney snorted. "That has always cracked me up. I know it's supposed to be the will of Jordyn enforcing that no-tech rule but I could never figure out how it works."
"Beats me," Bane admitted. "But then Jordyn is beyond mortal understanding as far as I can tell, same as the other Halarin. Anyway, I was told you had been in Khebir a few times?"
"Yeah. Right after I was kicked out of Tel Shai. I spent a few months there searching for Darthan talismans and went back once or twice later. Didn't find any. I was working for Wu Lung... don't give me that look, his money is as green as anyone else's."
The Dire Wolf did not try to hide his disapproval. "All right. There are no maps available. Can you find your way around the ruins of the capital city, Tash?"
"Not a problem. What are you going after?"
"There's supposed to be some Darthan artifacts hidden away there," Bane said. He had eased up enough to be sitting fully back in the chair instead of perching on the edge. "I got a report from an informer that Atrumo is trying to hire someone to transport him there."
"Atrumo! Geez. It makes me break into a cold sweat just thinking about that man."
"Same here. He relies on talismans rather than sorcery of his own but Atrumo is a Melgar tournament wrestler. We'll be facing gralic powers and a brute stronger than a gorilla. He's a lot to handle."
Delaney was studying his visitor's face. "I'll want that cash before we leave, then. In case, well... in case we meet Atrumo and you don't survive to pay me later."
"Not a problem. So, when would you be ready to leave?"
"Give me two hours. I'll shower and get into my hiking clothes, pack a knapsack, get some food ready. Come back in two hours with that money."
Standing up, Jeremy Bane returned the older man's gaze evenly. "It's on, then." He started walking across the lawn toward his car, then paused. He turned his head to look back with a wry smile. "When we return, maybe we can have a friendly sparring match. I think we both are curious how that would go."
III.
In a blinding flash of beautiful pale blue light, two men appeared standing on hot yellow sand under a ferocious sun blazing in a sky without a single cloud. The air hung still and heavy, but low humidity made it bearable. Not far away was what remained of a once-great city, Tash. Reddish sandstone columns had fallen over, colossal statues stood without their heads, a paved walkway was almost covered with drifting dirt. The only life in sight was a small stretch of dried and unhealthy looking grass alongside the road. Not even a lizard moved.
As far as anyone knew, Khebir had been deserted since the Green Plague had wiped out its population long ago.
Jeremy Bane was wearing one of the all-black KDF field suits with its boots, snug pants and waist-length jacket. Since none of his usual miniature gadgets would function here in Khebir, he had left most of them behind with his Smith & Wesson revolver. But the matched silver daggers were still strapped to sheaths on his forearms under his sleeves, and he wore the silk-thin Trom armor which dispersed most impact across its entire surface.
Next to him, taller and more massively built, William Delaney had changed into a practical outfit of hiking shoes, jeans, a flannel shirt and light windbreaker. High up on his back hung a small knapsack. Both men had round canteens on their belts. Delaney tugged a wide-brimmed cap down to shield his eyes from the sun and jerked a thumb at the river half a mile below them. "Told you."
Bane had been scrutinizing the scene warily. Not seeing any immediate danger, he relaxed visibly. "Good. I used a twenty-four charge. That's how long we have before the gralic force fades from our bodies and we return to the world."
"Your travel crystal is better than mine," Delaney admitted. "I have to keep mine on me to go to another realm."
"Mr Dred left it to me," said Bane absently as he looked around. "It was given to him by the Eldarin."
"All right then, let's keep an eye out for wildlife. There's some big predators here you won't find in the real world." Delaney started toward the ruins and Bane followed, both men moving with an easy stride that showed their smooth co-ordination. Kumundu training emphasized flexibility and agility more than sheer strength.
As they strode along the cracked road, avoiding potholes with would twist an ankle, Delaney asked, "Aren't you going to give me any speeches about signing up for mere money? Selling out instead of being a noble Tel Shai saint?"
"No," Bane said. "As long as you're doing the right thing, I don't care what your motive is."
"You know what Teacher Chael used to say about that?"
"No, what?"
"Even a crooked stick can draw a straight line."
Bane gave one of his rare laughs. "That sounds like Chael. Sometimes he talks like your stereotyped wise old Shaolin monk with a white beard, even if he only looks thirty. He once described beating up an opponent as 'involuntary yoga.'"
"I had no problem with Chael," Delaney said. "All he was interested in was getting you in shape and helping you learn how to fight. It was Anulka and Jathis that I had problems with."
"Kerlaw is okay."
"Bah, I don't think I said five words to him the whole time I was there. I wasn't going to be a healer." Delaney paused in front of a low pedastal on which stood two stone legs which were broken off at the knees. "Heh. 'Look on my works ye mighty and despair.'"
The reference was completely lost on Bane, who was moving around the rubble suspiciously. He sniffed and held up a hand and whispered, "Over here. Urine on the ground, fresh enough it hasn't dried out in this heat."
"This realm is supposed to be deserted," Delaney replied in an equally low tone. "Maybe Atrumo is already here."
"And here's some footprints," Bane continued. "Quite a mess."
"Let's see how well you've been trained," teased Delaney. "Rattle off some facts."
"I'll play your game." Bane squatted down next to the prints and then backed up to view them from a different angle. "Plain sandals. Human males, not reaching two hundred pounds judging by the depth of the prints. The toes are dug in deeper than the heels, meaning they were running. I estimate... twelve men. Moving in double file, many of the prints fall exactly in the ones before them, so they're disciplined."
"Not bad. Really, I don't disagree with anything you said. But here," he crouched to indicate a specific print. "Tell me about this one."
Bane frowned, which was his usual expression but now his lowered eyebrows added to the effect. "Size fourteen in a modern shoe, the others are no more than size nine or ten. Quite a bit deeper, too. I bet this is the leader since the other prints don't overlap his."
"Damn good, really. You think it's Atrumo?"
"I wish it wasn't, but yeah," Bane replied. "It's him. Not much wind, the sand is dry. I expect these prints wouldn't be unreadable for at least four days, maybe five. The urine is the only clue that these men were here today. I bet you have a few details you want to add?"
"Not much," Delaney said. "The bigger prints were made by animal hide boots without a heel, the rest are straw sandals. See all these round impressions in the ground right here? Those were from their spear butts as they rested for a second."
The Dire Wolf gazed off deeper into the Cyclopean ruins. "No way to tell how far ahead of us they are, Delaney."
"Aw, loosen up. We'll have to watch each other's back in this. Make it Bill and Jeremy, okay? You're Tel Shai but I can't blame you for what the Teachers did to me."
"Sure. Bill." Bane began moving past fallen blocks of granite bigger than he was, piled up where they had collapsed on top of each other. The stone promenade they walked along had cracked ages ago and fragments were pushed upward by straggly roots from beneath. Sand which had drifted up over the roadway showed no footprints ahead of them.
As they passed beneath the shadows of a remaining overhang and felt cooler air for the first time, both men froze. Ahead, a scream echoed through the ruins, only to be cut short.
IV.
Bane and Delaney leaped to opposite sides of the broken walkway and raced toward the racket. Thet were moving quickly but taking advantage of cover behind collapsed arches and fallen monuments. Even under the circumstances, the Dire Wolf saw how well Delaney moved and he noticed with wry amusement that the renegade knight was judging him as well. In a few minutes, they reached the open gateway in a surviving wall as a roar of approval thundered from many voices at once.
Creeping up to peer around the edges of that opening, Bane and Delaney looked down at an amphiteatre left open to the sullen azure sky. Hundreds of stone benches encircled a flat area big enough to hold a battle, and several spars of wood still poked upward where once banners had flown. Ages ago, gladiatorial games and triumphal parades had been staged here when Khebir had been well populated.
Eleven mismatched men cheered and raised their weapons. None seemed to be Melgar, but were Humans of different nationalities and races. Some wore stiff leather breastplates, some oiled mail or thick quilted jackets for protection; they weilded slim straight swords or curved scimitars or short stabbing spears with wide hooked blades. All they had in common was being above average height and well built, with vicious bearded or scarred faces.
The body of the twelfth raider sprawled face down in the dirt, bent backward at the waist in a way no spine could survive. And looming up over him, close to seven feet tall, was Atrumo.
No one knew his true backstory. Some said he had been sold to Chujiran slavers to work their jade mines and had escaped by killing twenty guards when he reached manhood. There were those who claimed he had been lost as a child in the wilderness of Evaho and had raised himself as a wild beast might. Rumors also circulated that Atrumo was a disinherited illegitimate son of some Melgar royalty, perhaps even a bastard child of King Holmir himself. It didn't matter. He was a threat to be reckoned with now.
The raider chief wore high-laced boots and leggings of deerhide and was naked from the waist up presumably to display immense hard muscles a blacksmith might envy. Around his was wrapped a thin cord of red metal links. On a leather thong around a neck thicker than his head hung a faceted scarlet crystal wide as a man's outstretched hand. Atrumo's hair was concealed beneath an black iron helmet forged to resemble the maned head of a lion from which his flat brutal face glared out. Between the bristling dark beard and the shadowy overhang of that helmet, little could be seen of his features.
Now, clenching and unclenching his huge hands as if ready to strangle any one of them, the raider chief swung around to examine his followers. "Well? You know Imbabwe was a fool to try to conceal loot in his loin cloth with me within sight. We live outside any laws but our own. When we leave a realm, all that we have pillaged is gathered together and distributed fairly... except for talismans of sorcerous power, those are mine alone. Do any of you dispute this?!"
"No, great one." "No, Atrumo." "We obey the rules of our brotherhood," came simultaneous cowed answers.
Drawing on all his stealth, breathing as slowly and silently as possible, Jeremy Bane worked his way behind the rows of benches looking down forty feet at where Atrumo was gathering his followers. Delaney moved behind him with equal skill. Moving on toes and fingertips, the Dire Wolf had to pass across a gap between the benches where steps led down to the arena. No one was looking his way. He began to cross and, taken completely off guard for once, was given a sharp kick in the back that sent him tumbling end over end to land in the sand almost within reach of the raiders.
"Ha ha!" bellowed the big Melgar, not seeming greatly pleased. "What is this you have brought us, Delaney?"
V.
Bane had smoothly risen to his feet, unharmed by the tumble, and stood facing a circle of a dozen hardened bandits who glared at him with barely repressed murder in their eyes. He tugged down his jacket and faced Atrumo.
"I know where the Crown of Boundless Knowledge is hidden," the Dire Wolf announced.
That got a reaction from the raiders' chief. Atrumo blinked and lost control enough to show surprise. "What? How do you even know what I seek?"
"It's my business to know these things. There are two dozen Darthan talismans still unaccounted for. The Crown was last reported in the hands of Menekartes forty years ago." Bane jabbed a thumb at his chest and smiled. "I can lead you to it."
Swinging around beside the giant Melgar, William Delaney was openly furious. "I don't believe you. This is some kind of trick, Atrumo..."
The chief raised a broad open hand in dismissal. "It is not for you to decide, Delaney. Stand back. Be ready. You, Dire Wolf... if you know as you claim, where is the Crown of Boundless Knowledge?"
"Yeah, right. Like I'm going to play my ace right away," Bane snorted. "First we work out an arrangement to provide me some safety from your goons here."
Atrumo made a deep rumbling noise. "Torture will make your tongue wag freely. We start with fingernails, then an eye..."
"Forget it," Bane retorted calmly. "Right, Delaney?"
The former Tel Shai knight nodded and glanced up at his huge chief. "Torture won't work on him, great Atrumo. His enhanced healing and his Kumundu techniques reduce pain to mild discomfort at best. Tel Shai knights are notorious for being impossible to interrogate."
"So I have heard," the Melgar bandit agreed. "But I would prefer to find out for myself."
"Here's my offer," Bane said. He had crossed his arms in front of his chest and anyone who knew him would realize he was placing his hands where they could draw the silver daggers from their sheaths beneath his sleeves. No one there was aware of this. "One or two of your thugs will go for a walk with me for a few miles. I'll give them directions to find the Crown, then while they're running back to you, I'll get a headstart from any pursuit."
"Hmm. You are known as a dangerous opponent, Dire Wolf," Atrumo said. "But if three of my raiders are with you and your hands are tied to a leash, I'm sure they could keep you from escaping before you talk."
"It's an obvious trick, Atrumo!" Delaney stepped past the Melgar toward Bane. "This man is incredibly dangerous. He can slay any three of your bandits, whether his hands are tied or not. He'll go back to the real world and bring his Tel Shai friends here to kill everyone."
The massive head swivelled to gaze down at the disgraced knight. "So. And what do you propose?"
"Let me humble him," Delaney said. "Only one tiger can best another tiger. I am more than a match for this Dire Wolf, I will break him body and spirit."
At a gesture from their chief, the bandits drew back to leave a round space thirty feet across. Several of the raiders laughed at loud at the thought of seeing a death duel. Atrumo himself marched over to a stone bench and lowered himself down with as much dignity as if assuming a throne.
There was no bitterness in Bane's voice as he watched Delaney approach. "You were already working for that big gorilla, I take it?"
"Sure. I've done two jobs for him robbing collectors of old artifacts. He pays what he promises. He treats me square, which is more than I can say for Tel Shai!"
The Dire Wolf circled to his right and studied Delaney's movements in response. "Why bring me right to him? What's in it for you?"
Delaney grinned with a complete lack of warmth. "You don't realize what a valuable hostage you make, Jeremy. Your own KDF will pay millions to have you returned. One-third of that will go to me. Maybe I'll move to the south of France, they say the cuisine there spoils you. Or maybe I'll get a villa in Italy. Gorgeous countryside."
"There's one problem with all that," Bane answered. "You think I'm going to let you survive this." Even as he spoke the final word, Bane sprang across the intervening distance and crashed a hooking left kick that caught Delaney where shoulder joins neck, spinning the man around in a clumsy cartwheel.
All the bandits flinched in disbelief. They had been staring right at the two men and they still had not been able to follow Bane's movements. The man was faster than any normal Human could match.
Delaney hit the ground, rolled, and was back up on his feet as though nothing had happened. Bane had followed closely and saw his chance. He blasted a right backfist and left hook combination that rocked his opponent's head twice... but the blows had no effect. In the split-second that Bane was expecting a reaction which would give him a further opening, he felt his wrist seized and then he was flung around in an Aikido-style whirl which brought him down to the dirt with a thump. Delaney stamped a boot hard on Bane's chest, tugged upward and dislocated his right arm.
Kicking with both feet, scuttling backwards along the ground, Bane got enough distance to jump up again. If he had a few seconds, he would be able to reset his shoulder by slamming it up against one of the stone fragments surrounding him but that was asking too much. Already, Delaney was charging full speed with one fist drawn back to strike.
With his one arm hanging uselessly, Bane took a quick hop forward to meet Delaney's attack and kicked one-two to both of the man's knees. The first kick glanced away without doing any damage but the second one connected neatly to the inside of the joint. Delaney limped back a few steps, fists raised to prevent a follow-up.
His expressionless face did not show it, but Bane was genuinely alarmed. A kick like that should have popped his opponent's kneecap loose. Delaney straightened up and deliberately stamped that foot twice to show he was unhurt.
"You see?" he taunted. "Twenty years on an intensive Tagra diet, taking in three times the meager amount of the leaf that you're allowed by those damn Teachers. I don't even feel your blows. I heal faster than you can hurt me."
Taking advantage of the man's speech, Bane had backed up against a broken stone pillar and slammed his dislocated arm against it, popping his arm back into place. With his own enhanced healing, the soreness and pain would ease up in a few seconds. To buy that time, he said, "You do realize you're not getting that bonus from me after this, right?"
That made Delaney grin. "Bravado, I like it. Courage or stupidity, sometimes it's the same thing. You can't survive this, Jeremy. Bullets pop out of me within a minute. Sword slashes close up instantly. I'm impossible to kill."
"Then what are you waiting for?" the Dire Wolf snapped back. "Teach me some of that 'involuntary yoga' you bragged about."
The two men leaped at each other from six feet away to crash together in mid-air. Delaney drove a knee right into the center of Bane's sternum, calculating to damage the nerve complex there and cause paralysis, perhaps even stop his foe's breathing. This was his mistake. He did not know that Bane wore a full suit of the flexible Trom armor under his clothes. That advanced material was thin as silk but it dispersed any impact over its entire surface and made high-powered rifle bullets leave mere bruises. Bane felt the blow but it did not slow him down. He swept Delaney's feet out and backwards, bringing man down hard on his back, kneeling over him to strike an extended knuckle blow to the jaw... the same blow used to break tiles and shatter bricks.
Although Delaney gasped at the brutal impact, his flailing arms acted on their own and still tried to put up some defense. Bane drew his left fist up past his own ear and drove his straightened arm down in that same deadly blow twice more. Once to the chin and once between the eyes. The concussions sounded like a hammer breaking rocks. Delaney slumped. His arms and legs sagged and went limp.
Standing over the fallen man, Jeremy Bane only had an instant to reflect how much closer that fight would have been without his Trom armor. If they had been wearing only trunks, he wasn't at all sure he would have won. Even now, the accelerated healing was repairing the brutal damage done to the man's head. He only had a minute before that cracked jaw sealed itself.
He realized all the bandits were staring with mouths hanging open. Even Atrumo was mesmerized by what he had witnessed, and his hand had dropped away from the hilt of his sword without his realizing it. Bane pointed at the renegade Melgar and yelled, "Now you know what you're dealing with! But I have decided to give you what you crave. The Crown of Boundless Knowledge is nearby. In fact, it's within your reach at this very moment."
That befuddled the giant. His usual poker face had lost its composure in the preceding few minutes. "And... and why would you do that?"
"I always have my reasons," Bane snapped.
VI.
[Bane shows Atrumo where the Crown was hidden within a hollow column decorated with images of extinct plants. Kenneth Dred had left this information in his manuscript FORBIDDEN KNOWLEDGE; he had learned this from a former henchman of Menekartes who told everything in exchange for enough money to start over. As soon as the compartment in the column is opened, Atrumo yanks off the fine-linked metal chain around his waist. This is one of the Seeking Nooses, Darthan talismans made of Gremthom, and it instantly whips around Bane to keep him from interfering.]
Once the fine Gremthom chain was wrapped painfully tight around his enemy, holding Bane's arms to his sides and his legs together so he barely managed to remain on his feet, Atrumo visibly relaxed. He strode over to one of the stone benches and sat down. In one huge hand, the bandit chief brandished the ornate diadem of hot red metal. He could not repress a triumphant laugh any longer.
His men stayed well back, grateful he seemed to have forgotten their presence. William Delaney had fully recovered from the beating he had survived, but he seemed uncharacteristically subdued. Although he stared at the captured Dire Wolf, Delaney made no comment. He gingerly lowered himself to another of the stone benches encircling the arena and rubbed his aching limbs as he watched and waited.
"Hear me, my followers," Atrumo announced. He untied a leather strap and lifted the black iron helmet off his head. The dark brown hair which was revealed had been tied up into a braid at the back of his neck, damp with sweat. "Long have I sought Darthan talismans of power. The Seeking Noose. The Travel Gem. And now I claim the Crown of Boundless Knowledge. Heh."
While everyone held their breaths to see what would happen, the giant Melgar adjusted the Gremthom artifact down around his brow. "Naturally it fits," he chuckled. "I expected no other. Yes. Yes. Voices sound inside my head. Wise counselors of ages past."
Atrumo rose to his full height, his mighty chest heaving as he seemed to struggle to catch his breath. "I understand everything. All makes sense. The pieces of a million puzzles fall into place."
From where he stood tightly bound by the Seeking Noose, Bane said quietly, "Be careful what you wish for."
"Slow down, slow down I say," Atrumo rumbled. "Give me a moment to let this sink in. Wait. Slow down." Unexpectedly, his voice rose to a shriek. "No more! Stop! I said, no more!" The renegade Melgar gripped the Crown with both hands but somehow could not rip it off his head. Bright crimson blood trickled from his ears, he screamed and fell forward in a heap in front of his horrified crew.
As Atrumo collapsed, the sorcerous chain fell from around Bane to clink on the ground. Kicking free, the Dire Wolf took two quick steps and knelt over the massive hulk. He tugged the Gremthom diadem free and pressed two fingers to Atrumo's bull neck. "There's a pulse. He's alive," Bane announced. "Well, his body is, anyway. I don't know if he's going to be brain-dead."
By then, the eleven raiders had begun stirring as the events sank in. They exchanged uneasy glances, shifted their grips on sword hilts and spear shafts, and muttered under their breaths. Still holding the Crown of Boundless Knowledge between thumb and forefinger distastefully, the Dire Wolf swept his grey eyes over the gang. "Not sure if you still have a leader, eh? Atrumo might recover in a few minutes, and he's going to be enraged if he finds you nominating one of you as new chief."
Getting up off the bench, Delaney stretched and came over to stand near Bane, also facing the raiders. "Using Darthan artifacts never works out well," he said. "They're cursed, any way you look at it."
The Dire Wolf did not acknowledge Delaney directly. He had reached down and begun coiling the Seeking Noose around his free hand. "Looks like you boys are starting to think about tangling with the two of us. Think for a second. You're stranded in Khebir. How are you ever going to get back to the real world?"
"Atrumo brought us to this realm," one of the Chujiran raiders admitted sullenly.
"That's right. The Travel Gem is still around his neck," Bane said. "Now, some of you might be considering the idea that claiming that gem and trying to gate back to the world. Good luck with that. You don't know the technique. No, your best hope right now is taking care of Atrumo and praying that he recovers his mind."
The Dire Wolf did not volunteer the fact that he and Delaney would be brought back to the world in a few hours as the gralic charge faded from their bodies. He figured the raiders were preoccupied with their own fates. "I'm taking these talismans as spoils of war," he said. "You boys had better try to nurse your chief back to awareness and see if he recovers enough."
As Bane backed away from the hostile stares of the raiders, he felt the coppery-colored artifacts sting his skin. Gremthom carried a gralic flow that was inherently harmful to any non-Dartha touching the metal. He intended to get way out of sight of this bunch, then wait to be automatically brought home where he could be rid of the talismans. Along with a hundred other perilous objects, the Crown and the Noose would be stored securely in the Vault in the basement of KDF headquarters.
"Wait," Delaney said tentatively. "I'm going with you. We can work out some sort of arrangement, maybe work together on other missions. Conditions have changed."
"Too late for you," Bane snapped and started striding away. "Too late."
10/16/2020
8/22/1981
I.
Jeremy Bane parked his dark green Ford Mustang by the side of the country back road and hopped out. At twenty-four, the Dire Wolf was at a physical peak and burning with excess nervous energy he needed to vent. Almost exactly six feet tall and weighing one hundred and seventy pounds, he looked slim and athletic without being obviously muscular. He was built like a runner rather than a weight lifter. The black slacks, turtleneck and sports jacket gave him a sinister appearance which was accented by the pale grey eyes under dark feral brows. Those eyes never stopped moving, analyzing, accusing.
He was gazing at a yard about fifty feet to each side, with tall dry grass which had not been mowed in some time. A one-story white house with a slate roof, no more than five rooms, stood at the rear of the yard up against the birch and elms which marked the forest. The hard-packed gravel driveway held a beat-up Dodge Ram with considerable rust around the rear wheels, and two old tires were stacked with other debris next to the pick-up. As Bane closed his car door, a redheaded man in blue jeans and faded work shirt stood up from where he had been kneeling by his garden.
The Dire Wolf strode quickly toward the man without a greeting. He had read all the KDF files on him but wanted to add up his own impressions. William Scott Delaney was forty-five. Standing an inch over six feet tall, he would weigh about two hundred and twenty pounds. The man was obviously in great shape, with wide shoulders and a narrow waist, hard biceps stretching the sleeves of his shirt. Delaney had dark brown hair and eyes in a lined, weathered face. The deepset eyes, long straight nose and lantern jaw gave him a mournful Puritanical look.
Just the easy way he rose from a kneeling position without having to use his hands for balance or to push himself up showed he was fit. "What do you want?"
"My name is Bane. Jeremy Bane, from the Kenneth Dred Foundation," the Dire Wolf replied. He stopped while well out of reach, standing with feet apart in a ready stance.
"Oh, the great Dire Wolf!" Delaney scoffed. "Yeah, I've heard lots of wild stories about you. I repeat, what do you want?"
"We need your help, Mr Delaney. You may be the only one who can help us keep powerful talismans out of the hands of a dangerous sorcerer."
"None of my business," Delaney snapped. "The world leaves me alone and I leave it alone, we're both better off that way. Get out of here."
Bane frowned more than usual. This was not going at all as he expected. "I've heard about you, too. The Kumundu Kid. Back in the early '60s, you were quite a hero. You were the best knight Tel Shai had, and the youngest if I remember right. Nineteen when you started."
"That was the wrong thing to say! Goddam it, you have got some nerve bringing up Tel Shai to me!"
"I know you were expelled from the Order--" Bane began but he was cut off by furious swearing from the man.
"Expelled! That's a nice way to put it. After all I did, all the monsters I tracked down and the maniacs I captured, after six years of risking my life time after time, the Teachers threw me out like a used rag. And do you know why?"
The Dire Wolf had not reacted to the anger, his voice remained quiet and controlled. The pale eyes were fixed on the man he had driven all day to see. "No. I don't."
"Because I tried to save my sister. Alicia was fourteen. She was in horrible pain, dying of kidney disease, the doctors said there was nothing I could do. So I shared what Tagra I had with her. She started getting better and then the Teachers summoned me to Tel Shai. That high-and-mighty bitch Anulka had seen in my mind what I had intended. You can't hide anything from telepaths for long. I had to stand before all eight Teachers and take their sermons without flinching. Then, just like that, they disowned me."
Bane had moved closer, still with his hands down by his sides, not assuming any threatening pose. "What happened to her?"
"She died, what do you think? The light of my life. My baby sister. It wasn't luck until I ran out of the Tagra leaves and there was nothing I could do for her." Delaney folded his arms across his broad chest and took a breath. "Go away. Get out of here."
"I don't always agree with the policies the Teachers have established," Bane told him. "They're wise and a hundred years old and all that, but they are not perfect. No one is. They've set rules I think are wrong. But being a knight means access to all the training that helps me carry out my mission in life, so I go along with it. It's compromise."
"Well, aren't you the little diplomat? I told you to get lost once, I'm going to throw you off my property in a second."
Again, Bane did not respond to his hostility. He pointed at the rectangle of soil lined with plants that Delaney had been tending. "Those purple leaves look awful familiar. Arrowhead-shaped, growing on short stalks that way, I'd say those are Tagra plants."
"I smuggled a handful of seeds back to this world before the Teachers threw me out," Delaney said. "It's not easy growing these plants, they're delicate and they need constant care. And they didn't start sprouting until long after my Alicia was gone."
"There's nothing we can do about the past," Bane said. "I'm asking you to step up now and do the right thing. Feeling sorry for yourself won't save all the other Alicias out there."
Delaney raised his hands and curled them into knobby fist. "That's enough! I know about you, Bane. I'm not intimidated. I have been trained in Kumundu too, I have been living on massive amounts of Tagra tea and most important, I really want to beat you into a bloody mess that can't even beg me to stop. Let's go."
II.
The Dire Wolf did not move in response, and his voice remained confident. "Be serious. I'll put two bullets in your knees before you can reach me. No one's healing is good enough to ignore that. I have nothing to prove and I'm not going to slug it out with you for fun. Let me try another approach."
"Like what?"
"Like offering money," Bane said. "Why not? I can get you twenty thousand in cash today with a phone call, tax free. Maybe you don't want much out of life any more, but money in the hand is always reassuring."
Just like that, the tension between the two men evaporated. Delaney lowered his fists and unclenched them, sticking his thumbs in the loops of his belt. "I'm about due for a commission at that. I haven't taken one in months. Where did you get that twenty thousand figure anyway?"
"I know the Sifu of the Black Mantis school in Manhattan. One of the students said that was how much you asked to chase away some White Web snoopers. I can meet that and maybe give an equal bonus if the mission is successful. Interested?"
William Delaney nodded slowly. "All right. Let's sit in those lawn chairs and palaver." The former Kumundu master swung around and headed over to where two cheap plastic-over-aluminum lawn chairs sat facing out toward the road. In doing so, he deliberately left his back exposed for an attack.
"We'll be going to Khebir," Bane told him as they reached the chairs. "All I know is that it's an abandoned adjacent realm. Modern technology won't work there, not even a cigarette lighter. So there won't be any guns involved and martial arts fighters will have an advantage over the untrained."
Plopping down and crossing his right leg over his left knee, Delaney snorted. "That has always cracked me up. I know it's supposed to be the will of Jordyn enforcing that no-tech rule but I could never figure out how it works."
"Beats me," Bane admitted. "But then Jordyn is beyond mortal understanding as far as I can tell, same as the other Halarin. Anyway, I was told you had been in Khebir a few times?"
"Yeah. Right after I was kicked out of Tel Shai. I spent a few months there searching for Darthan talismans and went back once or twice later. Didn't find any. I was working for Wu Lung... don't give me that look, his money is as green as anyone else's."
The Dire Wolf did not try to hide his disapproval. "All right. There are no maps available. Can you find your way around the ruins of the capital city, Tash?"
"Not a problem. What are you going after?"
"There's supposed to be some Darthan artifacts hidden away there," Bane said. He had eased up enough to be sitting fully back in the chair instead of perching on the edge. "I got a report from an informer that Atrumo is trying to hire someone to transport him there."
"Atrumo! Geez. It makes me break into a cold sweat just thinking about that man."
"Same here. He relies on talismans rather than sorcery of his own but Atrumo is a Melgar tournament wrestler. We'll be facing gralic powers and a brute stronger than a gorilla. He's a lot to handle."
Delaney was studying his visitor's face. "I'll want that cash before we leave, then. In case, well... in case we meet Atrumo and you don't survive to pay me later."
"Not a problem. So, when would you be ready to leave?"
"Give me two hours. I'll shower and get into my hiking clothes, pack a knapsack, get some food ready. Come back in two hours with that money."
Standing up, Jeremy Bane returned the older man's gaze evenly. "It's on, then." He started walking across the lawn toward his car, then paused. He turned his head to look back with a wry smile. "When we return, maybe we can have a friendly sparring match. I think we both are curious how that would go."
III.
In a blinding flash of beautiful pale blue light, two men appeared standing on hot yellow sand under a ferocious sun blazing in a sky without a single cloud. The air hung still and heavy, but low humidity made it bearable. Not far away was what remained of a once-great city, Tash. Reddish sandstone columns had fallen over, colossal statues stood without their heads, a paved walkway was almost covered with drifting dirt. The only life in sight was a small stretch of dried and unhealthy looking grass alongside the road. Not even a lizard moved.
As far as anyone knew, Khebir had been deserted since the Green Plague had wiped out its population long ago.
Jeremy Bane was wearing one of the all-black KDF field suits with its boots, snug pants and waist-length jacket. Since none of his usual miniature gadgets would function here in Khebir, he had left most of them behind with his Smith & Wesson revolver. But the matched silver daggers were still strapped to sheaths on his forearms under his sleeves, and he wore the silk-thin Trom armor which dispersed most impact across its entire surface.
Next to him, taller and more massively built, William Delaney had changed into a practical outfit of hiking shoes, jeans, a flannel shirt and light windbreaker. High up on his back hung a small knapsack. Both men had round canteens on their belts. Delaney tugged a wide-brimmed cap down to shield his eyes from the sun and jerked a thumb at the river half a mile below them. "Told you."
Bane had been scrutinizing the scene warily. Not seeing any immediate danger, he relaxed visibly. "Good. I used a twenty-four charge. That's how long we have before the gralic force fades from our bodies and we return to the world."
"Your travel crystal is better than mine," Delaney admitted. "I have to keep mine on me to go to another realm."
"Mr Dred left it to me," said Bane absently as he looked around. "It was given to him by the Eldarin."
"All right then, let's keep an eye out for wildlife. There's some big predators here you won't find in the real world." Delaney started toward the ruins and Bane followed, both men moving with an easy stride that showed their smooth co-ordination. Kumundu training emphasized flexibility and agility more than sheer strength.
As they strode along the cracked road, avoiding potholes with would twist an ankle, Delaney asked, "Aren't you going to give me any speeches about signing up for mere money? Selling out instead of being a noble Tel Shai saint?"
"No," Bane said. "As long as you're doing the right thing, I don't care what your motive is."
"You know what Teacher Chael used to say about that?"
"No, what?"
"Even a crooked stick can draw a straight line."
Bane gave one of his rare laughs. "That sounds like Chael. Sometimes he talks like your stereotyped wise old Shaolin monk with a white beard, even if he only looks thirty. He once described beating up an opponent as 'involuntary yoga.'"
"I had no problem with Chael," Delaney said. "All he was interested in was getting you in shape and helping you learn how to fight. It was Anulka and Jathis that I had problems with."
"Kerlaw is okay."
"Bah, I don't think I said five words to him the whole time I was there. I wasn't going to be a healer." Delaney paused in front of a low pedastal on which stood two stone legs which were broken off at the knees. "Heh. 'Look on my works ye mighty and despair.'"
The reference was completely lost on Bane, who was moving around the rubble suspiciously. He sniffed and held up a hand and whispered, "Over here. Urine on the ground, fresh enough it hasn't dried out in this heat."
"This realm is supposed to be deserted," Delaney replied in an equally low tone. "Maybe Atrumo is already here."
"And here's some footprints," Bane continued. "Quite a mess."
"Let's see how well you've been trained," teased Delaney. "Rattle off some facts."
"I'll play your game." Bane squatted down next to the prints and then backed up to view them from a different angle. "Plain sandals. Human males, not reaching two hundred pounds judging by the depth of the prints. The toes are dug in deeper than the heels, meaning they were running. I estimate... twelve men. Moving in double file, many of the prints fall exactly in the ones before them, so they're disciplined."
"Not bad. Really, I don't disagree with anything you said. But here," he crouched to indicate a specific print. "Tell me about this one."
Bane frowned, which was his usual expression but now his lowered eyebrows added to the effect. "Size fourteen in a modern shoe, the others are no more than size nine or ten. Quite a bit deeper, too. I bet this is the leader since the other prints don't overlap his."
"Damn good, really. You think it's Atrumo?"
"I wish it wasn't, but yeah," Bane replied. "It's him. Not much wind, the sand is dry. I expect these prints wouldn't be unreadable for at least four days, maybe five. The urine is the only clue that these men were here today. I bet you have a few details you want to add?"
"Not much," Delaney said. "The bigger prints were made by animal hide boots without a heel, the rest are straw sandals. See all these round impressions in the ground right here? Those were from their spear butts as they rested for a second."
The Dire Wolf gazed off deeper into the Cyclopean ruins. "No way to tell how far ahead of us they are, Delaney."
"Aw, loosen up. We'll have to watch each other's back in this. Make it Bill and Jeremy, okay? You're Tel Shai but I can't blame you for what the Teachers did to me."
"Sure. Bill." Bane began moving past fallen blocks of granite bigger than he was, piled up where they had collapsed on top of each other. The stone promenade they walked along had cracked ages ago and fragments were pushed upward by straggly roots from beneath. Sand which had drifted up over the roadway showed no footprints ahead of them.
As they passed beneath the shadows of a remaining overhang and felt cooler air for the first time, both men froze. Ahead, a scream echoed through the ruins, only to be cut short.
IV.
Bane and Delaney leaped to opposite sides of the broken walkway and raced toward the racket. Thet were moving quickly but taking advantage of cover behind collapsed arches and fallen monuments. Even under the circumstances, the Dire Wolf saw how well Delaney moved and he noticed with wry amusement that the renegade knight was judging him as well. In a few minutes, they reached the open gateway in a surviving wall as a roar of approval thundered from many voices at once.
Creeping up to peer around the edges of that opening, Bane and Delaney looked down at an amphiteatre left open to the sullen azure sky. Hundreds of stone benches encircled a flat area big enough to hold a battle, and several spars of wood still poked upward where once banners had flown. Ages ago, gladiatorial games and triumphal parades had been staged here when Khebir had been well populated.
Eleven mismatched men cheered and raised their weapons. None seemed to be Melgar, but were Humans of different nationalities and races. Some wore stiff leather breastplates, some oiled mail or thick quilted jackets for protection; they weilded slim straight swords or curved scimitars or short stabbing spears with wide hooked blades. All they had in common was being above average height and well built, with vicious bearded or scarred faces.
The body of the twelfth raider sprawled face down in the dirt, bent backward at the waist in a way no spine could survive. And looming up over him, close to seven feet tall, was Atrumo.
No one knew his true backstory. Some said he had been sold to Chujiran slavers to work their jade mines and had escaped by killing twenty guards when he reached manhood. There were those who claimed he had been lost as a child in the wilderness of Evaho and had raised himself as a wild beast might. Rumors also circulated that Atrumo was a disinherited illegitimate son of some Melgar royalty, perhaps even a bastard child of King Holmir himself. It didn't matter. He was a threat to be reckoned with now.
The raider chief wore high-laced boots and leggings of deerhide and was naked from the waist up presumably to display immense hard muscles a blacksmith might envy. Around his was wrapped a thin cord of red metal links. On a leather thong around a neck thicker than his head hung a faceted scarlet crystal wide as a man's outstretched hand. Atrumo's hair was concealed beneath an black iron helmet forged to resemble the maned head of a lion from which his flat brutal face glared out. Between the bristling dark beard and the shadowy overhang of that helmet, little could be seen of his features.
Now, clenching and unclenching his huge hands as if ready to strangle any one of them, the raider chief swung around to examine his followers. "Well? You know Imbabwe was a fool to try to conceal loot in his loin cloth with me within sight. We live outside any laws but our own. When we leave a realm, all that we have pillaged is gathered together and distributed fairly... except for talismans of sorcerous power, those are mine alone. Do any of you dispute this?!"
"No, great one." "No, Atrumo." "We obey the rules of our brotherhood," came simultaneous cowed answers.
Drawing on all his stealth, breathing as slowly and silently as possible, Jeremy Bane worked his way behind the rows of benches looking down forty feet at where Atrumo was gathering his followers. Delaney moved behind him with equal skill. Moving on toes and fingertips, the Dire Wolf had to pass across a gap between the benches where steps led down to the arena. No one was looking his way. He began to cross and, taken completely off guard for once, was given a sharp kick in the back that sent him tumbling end over end to land in the sand almost within reach of the raiders.
"Ha ha!" bellowed the big Melgar, not seeming greatly pleased. "What is this you have brought us, Delaney?"
V.
Bane had smoothly risen to his feet, unharmed by the tumble, and stood facing a circle of a dozen hardened bandits who glared at him with barely repressed murder in their eyes. He tugged down his jacket and faced Atrumo.
"I know where the Crown of Boundless Knowledge is hidden," the Dire Wolf announced.
That got a reaction from the raiders' chief. Atrumo blinked and lost control enough to show surprise. "What? How do you even know what I seek?"
"It's my business to know these things. There are two dozen Darthan talismans still unaccounted for. The Crown was last reported in the hands of Menekartes forty years ago." Bane jabbed a thumb at his chest and smiled. "I can lead you to it."
Swinging around beside the giant Melgar, William Delaney was openly furious. "I don't believe you. This is some kind of trick, Atrumo..."
The chief raised a broad open hand in dismissal. "It is not for you to decide, Delaney. Stand back. Be ready. You, Dire Wolf... if you know as you claim, where is the Crown of Boundless Knowledge?"
"Yeah, right. Like I'm going to play my ace right away," Bane snorted. "First we work out an arrangement to provide me some safety from your goons here."
Atrumo made a deep rumbling noise. "Torture will make your tongue wag freely. We start with fingernails, then an eye..."
"Forget it," Bane retorted calmly. "Right, Delaney?"
The former Tel Shai knight nodded and glanced up at his huge chief. "Torture won't work on him, great Atrumo. His enhanced healing and his Kumundu techniques reduce pain to mild discomfort at best. Tel Shai knights are notorious for being impossible to interrogate."
"So I have heard," the Melgar bandit agreed. "But I would prefer to find out for myself."
"Here's my offer," Bane said. He had crossed his arms in front of his chest and anyone who knew him would realize he was placing his hands where they could draw the silver daggers from their sheaths beneath his sleeves. No one there was aware of this. "One or two of your thugs will go for a walk with me for a few miles. I'll give them directions to find the Crown, then while they're running back to you, I'll get a headstart from any pursuit."
"Hmm. You are known as a dangerous opponent, Dire Wolf," Atrumo said. "But if three of my raiders are with you and your hands are tied to a leash, I'm sure they could keep you from escaping before you talk."
"It's an obvious trick, Atrumo!" Delaney stepped past the Melgar toward Bane. "This man is incredibly dangerous. He can slay any three of your bandits, whether his hands are tied or not. He'll go back to the real world and bring his Tel Shai friends here to kill everyone."
The massive head swivelled to gaze down at the disgraced knight. "So. And what do you propose?"
"Let me humble him," Delaney said. "Only one tiger can best another tiger. I am more than a match for this Dire Wolf, I will break him body and spirit."
At a gesture from their chief, the bandits drew back to leave a round space thirty feet across. Several of the raiders laughed at loud at the thought of seeing a death duel. Atrumo himself marched over to a stone bench and lowered himself down with as much dignity as if assuming a throne.
There was no bitterness in Bane's voice as he watched Delaney approach. "You were already working for that big gorilla, I take it?"
"Sure. I've done two jobs for him robbing collectors of old artifacts. He pays what he promises. He treats me square, which is more than I can say for Tel Shai!"
The Dire Wolf circled to his right and studied Delaney's movements in response. "Why bring me right to him? What's in it for you?"
Delaney grinned with a complete lack of warmth. "You don't realize what a valuable hostage you make, Jeremy. Your own KDF will pay millions to have you returned. One-third of that will go to me. Maybe I'll move to the south of France, they say the cuisine there spoils you. Or maybe I'll get a villa in Italy. Gorgeous countryside."
"There's one problem with all that," Bane answered. "You think I'm going to let you survive this." Even as he spoke the final word, Bane sprang across the intervening distance and crashed a hooking left kick that caught Delaney where shoulder joins neck, spinning the man around in a clumsy cartwheel.
All the bandits flinched in disbelief. They had been staring right at the two men and they still had not been able to follow Bane's movements. The man was faster than any normal Human could match.
Delaney hit the ground, rolled, and was back up on his feet as though nothing had happened. Bane had followed closely and saw his chance. He blasted a right backfist and left hook combination that rocked his opponent's head twice... but the blows had no effect. In the split-second that Bane was expecting a reaction which would give him a further opening, he felt his wrist seized and then he was flung around in an Aikido-style whirl which brought him down to the dirt with a thump. Delaney stamped a boot hard on Bane's chest, tugged upward and dislocated his right arm.
Kicking with both feet, scuttling backwards along the ground, Bane got enough distance to jump up again. If he had a few seconds, he would be able to reset his shoulder by slamming it up against one of the stone fragments surrounding him but that was asking too much. Already, Delaney was charging full speed with one fist drawn back to strike.
With his one arm hanging uselessly, Bane took a quick hop forward to meet Delaney's attack and kicked one-two to both of the man's knees. The first kick glanced away without doing any damage but the second one connected neatly to the inside of the joint. Delaney limped back a few steps, fists raised to prevent a follow-up.
His expressionless face did not show it, but Bane was genuinely alarmed. A kick like that should have popped his opponent's kneecap loose. Delaney straightened up and deliberately stamped that foot twice to show he was unhurt.
"You see?" he taunted. "Twenty years on an intensive Tagra diet, taking in three times the meager amount of the leaf that you're allowed by those damn Teachers. I don't even feel your blows. I heal faster than you can hurt me."
Taking advantage of the man's speech, Bane had backed up against a broken stone pillar and slammed his dislocated arm against it, popping his arm back into place. With his own enhanced healing, the soreness and pain would ease up in a few seconds. To buy that time, he said, "You do realize you're not getting that bonus from me after this, right?"
That made Delaney grin. "Bravado, I like it. Courage or stupidity, sometimes it's the same thing. You can't survive this, Jeremy. Bullets pop out of me within a minute. Sword slashes close up instantly. I'm impossible to kill."
"Then what are you waiting for?" the Dire Wolf snapped back. "Teach me some of that 'involuntary yoga' you bragged about."
The two men leaped at each other from six feet away to crash together in mid-air. Delaney drove a knee right into the center of Bane's sternum, calculating to damage the nerve complex there and cause paralysis, perhaps even stop his foe's breathing. This was his mistake. He did not know that Bane wore a full suit of the flexible Trom armor under his clothes. That advanced material was thin as silk but it dispersed any impact over its entire surface and made high-powered rifle bullets leave mere bruises. Bane felt the blow but it did not slow him down. He swept Delaney's feet out and backwards, bringing man down hard on his back, kneeling over him to strike an extended knuckle blow to the jaw... the same blow used to break tiles and shatter bricks.
Although Delaney gasped at the brutal impact, his flailing arms acted on their own and still tried to put up some defense. Bane drew his left fist up past his own ear and drove his straightened arm down in that same deadly blow twice more. Once to the chin and once between the eyes. The concussions sounded like a hammer breaking rocks. Delaney slumped. His arms and legs sagged and went limp.
Standing over the fallen man, Jeremy Bane only had an instant to reflect how much closer that fight would have been without his Trom armor. If they had been wearing only trunks, he wasn't at all sure he would have won. Even now, the accelerated healing was repairing the brutal damage done to the man's head. He only had a minute before that cracked jaw sealed itself.
He realized all the bandits were staring with mouths hanging open. Even Atrumo was mesmerized by what he had witnessed, and his hand had dropped away from the hilt of his sword without his realizing it. Bane pointed at the renegade Melgar and yelled, "Now you know what you're dealing with! But I have decided to give you what you crave. The Crown of Boundless Knowledge is nearby. In fact, it's within your reach at this very moment."
That befuddled the giant. His usual poker face had lost its composure in the preceding few minutes. "And... and why would you do that?"
"I always have my reasons," Bane snapped.
VI.
[Bane shows Atrumo where the Crown was hidden within a hollow column decorated with images of extinct plants. Kenneth Dred had left this information in his manuscript FORBIDDEN KNOWLEDGE; he had learned this from a former henchman of Menekartes who told everything in exchange for enough money to start over. As soon as the compartment in the column is opened, Atrumo yanks off the fine-linked metal chain around his waist. This is one of the Seeking Nooses, Darthan talismans made of Gremthom, and it instantly whips around Bane to keep him from interfering.]
Once the fine Gremthom chain was wrapped painfully tight around his enemy, holding Bane's arms to his sides and his legs together so he barely managed to remain on his feet, Atrumo visibly relaxed. He strode over to one of the stone benches and sat down. In one huge hand, the bandit chief brandished the ornate diadem of hot red metal. He could not repress a triumphant laugh any longer.
His men stayed well back, grateful he seemed to have forgotten their presence. William Delaney had fully recovered from the beating he had survived, but he seemed uncharacteristically subdued. Although he stared at the captured Dire Wolf, Delaney made no comment. He gingerly lowered himself to another of the stone benches encircling the arena and rubbed his aching limbs as he watched and waited.
"Hear me, my followers," Atrumo announced. He untied a leather strap and lifted the black iron helmet off his head. The dark brown hair which was revealed had been tied up into a braid at the back of his neck, damp with sweat. "Long have I sought Darthan talismans of power. The Seeking Noose. The Travel Gem. And now I claim the Crown of Boundless Knowledge. Heh."
While everyone held their breaths to see what would happen, the giant Melgar adjusted the Gremthom artifact down around his brow. "Naturally it fits," he chuckled. "I expected no other. Yes. Yes. Voices sound inside my head. Wise counselors of ages past."
Atrumo rose to his full height, his mighty chest heaving as he seemed to struggle to catch his breath. "I understand everything. All makes sense. The pieces of a million puzzles fall into place."
From where he stood tightly bound by the Seeking Noose, Bane said quietly, "Be careful what you wish for."
"Slow down, slow down I say," Atrumo rumbled. "Give me a moment to let this sink in. Wait. Slow down." Unexpectedly, his voice rose to a shriek. "No more! Stop! I said, no more!" The renegade Melgar gripped the Crown with both hands but somehow could not rip it off his head. Bright crimson blood trickled from his ears, he screamed and fell forward in a heap in front of his horrified crew.
As Atrumo collapsed, the sorcerous chain fell from around Bane to clink on the ground. Kicking free, the Dire Wolf took two quick steps and knelt over the massive hulk. He tugged the Gremthom diadem free and pressed two fingers to Atrumo's bull neck. "There's a pulse. He's alive," Bane announced. "Well, his body is, anyway. I don't know if he's going to be brain-dead."
By then, the eleven raiders had begun stirring as the events sank in. They exchanged uneasy glances, shifted their grips on sword hilts and spear shafts, and muttered under their breaths. Still holding the Crown of Boundless Knowledge between thumb and forefinger distastefully, the Dire Wolf swept his grey eyes over the gang. "Not sure if you still have a leader, eh? Atrumo might recover in a few minutes, and he's going to be enraged if he finds you nominating one of you as new chief."
Getting up off the bench, Delaney stretched and came over to stand near Bane, also facing the raiders. "Using Darthan artifacts never works out well," he said. "They're cursed, any way you look at it."
The Dire Wolf did not acknowledge Delaney directly. He had reached down and begun coiling the Seeking Noose around his free hand. "Looks like you boys are starting to think about tangling with the two of us. Think for a second. You're stranded in Khebir. How are you ever going to get back to the real world?"
"Atrumo brought us to this realm," one of the Chujiran raiders admitted sullenly.
"That's right. The Travel Gem is still around his neck," Bane said. "Now, some of you might be considering the idea that claiming that gem and trying to gate back to the world. Good luck with that. You don't know the technique. No, your best hope right now is taking care of Atrumo and praying that he recovers his mind."
The Dire Wolf did not volunteer the fact that he and Delaney would be brought back to the world in a few hours as the gralic charge faded from their bodies. He figured the raiders were preoccupied with their own fates. "I'm taking these talismans as spoils of war," he said. "You boys had better try to nurse your chief back to awareness and see if he recovers enough."
As Bane backed away from the hostile stares of the raiders, he felt the coppery-colored artifacts sting his skin. Gremthom carried a gralic flow that was inherently harmful to any non-Dartha touching the metal. He intended to get way out of sight of this bunch, then wait to be automatically brought home where he could be rid of the talismans. Along with a hundred other perilous objects, the Crown and the Noose would be stored securely in the Vault in the basement of KDF headquarters.
"Wait," Delaney said tentatively. "I'm going with you. We can work out some sort of arrangement, maybe work together on other missions. Conditions have changed."
"Too late for you," Bane snapped and started striding away. "Too late."
10/16/2020