Lords of the East - Library

[Quirl]

Deal With The Devil

In the middle of the misty woods the witches set the fire. It shot up in a brief pillar of flame before collapsing into a wildly burning pyre. The nine women all stood around it—watching each other over the flames—waiting for it to begin.

There was the sound of distant crows—some murder startled by the cracking of the flames. A wind picked up, swirling the pyre like a miniature cyclone in the burning twigs and branches. Then the first witch stepped forward.

She held above her a jar. She watched only it as she continued to walk, the jar reflecting the moonlight into her eyes, making them almost glow. Then two other women scuttled forward, laying a long stick above the fire. They twisted the device in its place and let the thing hang above the flames. Then the first women laid the jar atop it.

Then all the women stepped back from the fire and began to dance. It started off slowly—whispers coming from their chapped lips—slow steps kicking into the frigged snow. Then it began to pick up. Some woman hurled her hands above her hood as she sang in her various dead languages. Another merely began to shake her head like a rabid dog, saying nothing which was decipherable.

The dance picked up. Women began tearing bits of their robes, revealing the cracked, white skin underneath. Others began clawing their skin, like holding back some insatiable ecstasy threatening to burst out from inside them. One woman screamed and another soon followed. And as the flames continued to be picked up by the wind, it casted shadows across the nearby trees and stones. Other figures soon became visible—still ghosts inside smiling masks. More shadows danced across and more men were revealed. Then a ray from the moon crept out from beneath the fog, revealing an entire host of smiling ghūl.

The women continued to dance and one man stepped forward. His mask scowled and his armor seemed almost as black as the night. He extended his claws forward and gripped the jar from the burning fire. He held it up and one of the women snatched it from his hands.

The woman with the jar danced to another at the opposite end of the flame. The woman there was not dancing, but stood as still as the army around her. In her hand she held a paper—a contract—a deal from their new employer.

The woman with the jar and the woman with the contract began to walk forward to the great masked man on the other side of the flame. Soon, another women joined them, holding the tattered standard of the Qara-Suu.

The other women continued to dance—howling, screaming, gnashing their teeth—casting their shadows and screams on the army of still ghūl around them.

The three witches carrying the jar, contract, and standard now stood in front of the great Khağan. The woman in the middle produced an object from beneath her robes and dipped into the smoking jar. The hot wax inside the jar trailed a bit as she pulled out the stamp. Then she took the contract and the stamp, and sealed it onto the banner the other witch held. Finally, the middle witch took the banner and handed it to the Khağan, smiling and bowing away.

The man in black armor took the standard and slowly began to turn around to face his army. The three witches behind him soon stepped back and melded with the others—continuing their mad dance around the frantic flame.

The Black Khağan held up the flag—the contract attached to it flying in the wind—calling for the death of an entire nation—and the army of ghūl around them began to scream.

The Black Khağan remained silent as the others howled their anticipating war cries. Then he slowly tipped the banner and the contract to the southeast, motioning his armies forward. Soon, his army began to move and there were shouts of "FORWARD" and "HO" echoing in the night air. Torches began to light, showing only then their true numbers—the woods were ablaze with them.

And as the army began to move out—the Black Khağan himself soon following atop his great horse—the women continued to dance. They danced the rest of the night—long after the smiles and ghosts had departed them. And they kept the blaze alive for several hours until the morning sun had finally come over the horizon...

... a red dawn.