"You're probably right," Sparhawk agreed. "Occuda, is there some way you can lock that door?"

The huge Pelosian nodded. "I can chain it shut, My Lord," he said.

"You'd better do it then. We don't want Bevier wandering around the halls in the middle of the night."

Sparhawk thought a moment. "We'd better post a guard outside his door as well," he told the others. "He's got his lochaber axe with him, and if he gets desperate enough, he might try to chop the door down."

"That could get a little tricky, Sparhawk," Kalten said dubiously. "We don't want to hurt him, but we don't want him coming at us with that gruesome axe of his either."

"If he tries to get out, we'll just have to overpower him," Sparhawk said.

Occuda showed the others to their rooms, and Sparhawk's was the last. "Will that be all, Sir Knight?" the servant asked politely as they entered.

"Stay a moment, Occuda," Sparhawk said.

"Yes, My Lord."

"I've seen you before, you know."

"Me, My Lord?"

"I was in Chyrellos some time ago, and Sephrenia and I were watching a house belonging to some Styrics. We saw you accompany a woman into that house. Was that Lady Bellina?"

Occuda sighed and nodded.

"It was what happened in that house that drove her mad, you know."

"I'd guessed as much."

"Can you tell me the whole story? I don't want to bother the count with painful questions, but we've got to rid Sir Bevier of his obsession."

"I understand, My Lord. My first loyalty is to the count, but perhaps you should know the details. At least that way you may be able to protect yourselves from that madwoman." Occuda sat down, his rugged face mournful.

"The count is a scholarly man, Sir Knight, and he's frequently away from home for long periods pursuing the stories he's been collecting for decades. His sister, Lady Bellina, is - or was - a plain, rather dumpy woman of middle years with very little prospects of ever catching a husband. This is a remote and isolated house, and Bellina suffered from loneliness and boredom. Last winter, she begged the count to permit her to visit friends in Chyrellos, and he gave her his consent, provided that I accompany her."

"I'd wondered how she got there," Sparhawk said, sitting on the edge of the bed.

"Anyway," Occuda continued, "Bellina's friends in Chyrellos are giddy, senseless ladies, and they filled her ears with stories about a Styric house where a woman's youth and beauty could be restored by magic. Bellina became inflamed with a wild desire to go to the house. Women do things for strange reasons sometimes."

"Did she in fact grow younger?"

"I wasn't permitted to accompany her into the room where the Styric magician was, so I can't say what happened in there, but when she came out, I scarcely recognized her. She had the body and face of a sixteen-year -old, but her eyes were dreadful. As I told your friend, I've worked with the insane before, so I recognize the signs. I bundled her up and brought her straight back to this house, hoping that I might be able to treat her here. The count was away on one of his journeys, so he had no way of knowing what began to happen after I got her home."

"And what was that?"

Occuda shuddered. "It was horrible, Sir Knight," he said in a sick voice. "Somehow, she was able to completely dominate the other servants. It was as if they were powerless to resist her commands."

"All except you?"

"I think the fact that I had been a monk may have protected me - either that or she didn't think I was worth the trouble."

"What exactly did she do?" Sparhawk asked him.

"Whatever it was that she encountered in that house in Chyrellos was totally evil, Sir Knight, and it possessed her utterly. She would send the servants who were her slaves out to surrounding villages by night, and they would abduct innocent serfs for her. I discovered later that she'd had a torture chamber set up in the cellar of this house. She gloried in blood and agonies." Occuda's face twisted with revulsion. "Sir Knight, she fed on human flesh and bathed her naked body in human blood until a week ago when the count returned to the castle. It was late one night when he arrived, and he sent me to the cellar for a bottle of wine, though he seldom drinks anything but water. When I was down there, I heard what sounded like a scream. I went to investigate, and opened the door to her secret chamber. I wish to G.o.d I never had!" He covered his face with his hands, and a wracking sob escaped him. "Bellina was naked," he continued after he had regained his composure, "and she had a serf-girl chained down on a table. Sir Knight, she was cutting the poor girl to pieces while she was still alive, and she was cramming quivering pieces of flesh into her own mouth!" Occuda made a retching sound, then clenched his teeth together.

Sparhawk never knew what impelled him to ask the question. "Was she alone in there?"

"No, My Lord. The servants who were her slaves were there as well, lapping the blood from those dank stones.

"And - " The lantern-jawed man hesitated.

"Go on."

"I cannot swear to this, My Lord. My head was reeling, but it seemed that at the back of the chamber there was a hooded figure all in black, and its presence chilled my soul."

"Can you give me any details about it?" Sparhawk asked.

"Tall, very thin, totally enshrouded in a black robe."

"And?" Sparhawk pressed, knowing with eerie certainty what came next.

The room was dark, My Lord," Occuda apologised, "except for the fires in which Bellina heated her torturing irons, but from that back corner I seemed to see a glow of green. Is that in any way significant?"

"It may be," Sparhawk replied bleakly. "Go on with the story."

"I ran to inform the count. At first he refused to believe me, but I forced him to go to the cellar with me. I thought at first he would kill her when he saw what she was doing. Would to G.o.d that he had. She started screeching when she saw him in the doorway and tried to attack him with the knife she'd been using on the serf-girl, but I wrested it from her. The thin one in the black robe seemed to shrink back when we entered, and when I looked for it later, it was gone. The count and I were both too sickened and disturbed to go looking for whomever it might have been."

"Was that when the count locked her in the tower?" Sparhawk was shaken by the horrible story.

"That was my idea, actually," Occuda said grimly. "At the hospice where I served, the violent ones were always confined. We dragged her to the tower, and I chained the door shut. She will remain there for the rest of her life if there's any way I can manage it."

"What happened to the other servants?"

"At first they made attempts to free her, and I had to kill several of them. Then, yesterday, the count heard a few of them telling a wild story to that silly fool of a minstrel. He instructed me to drive them all out of the castle. They milled around outside the gate for a while, and then they all ran off."

"Was there anything strange about them?"

"They all had absolutely blank faces," Occuda replied, "and the ones I killed died without making a sound."

"I was afraid of that. We've encountered that before."

"What happened to her in that house, Sir Knight? What drove her mad?"

"You've been trained as a monk, Occuda," Sparhawk said, "so you've probably had some theological instruction. Are you familiar with the name Azash?"

"The G.o.d of the Zemochs."

"That's Him. The Styrics in that house in Chyrellos were Zemochs, and it's Azash who owns Lady Bellina's soul. Is there any way she could possibly have escaped from that tower?"

"Absolutely impossible, My Lord."

"Somehow she managed to infect that minstrel, and he was able "to pa.s.s it on to Bevier."

"She could not have left the tower, Sir Knight," Occuda said adamantly.

"I'll need to talk with Sephrenia," Sparhawk said.

"Thank you for being so honest, Occuda."

"I told you all this in the hope that you could help the count." Occuda rose to his feet.

"We'll do what we can."

"Thank you. I'll go chain your friend's door shut." He started towards the door, then turned back. "Sir Knight," he said in a sombre tone, "do you think I should kill her? Might that not be better?"

"It may come to that, Occuda," Sparhawk said frankly, "and if you do, you'll have to cut off her head. Otherwise, she'll just rise again."

"I can do that if I have to. I have an axe, and I'll do anything to spare the count more suffering."

Sparhawk put a comforting hand on the servant's shoulder. "you're a good and true man, Occuda," he said. "The count's lucky to have you in his service."

"Thank you, My Lord."

Sparhawk removed his armour and went down the corridor to Sephrenia's door.

"Yes?" she said in response to his knock.

"It's me, Sephrenia," he said.

"Come in, dear one," she said.

He entered her room. "I had a talk with Occuda," he said.

"Oh?"

"He told me what's been happening here. I'm not sure if you want to hear it."

"If I'm to cure Bevier, I'm afraid I'll have to."

"We were right," Sparhawk began. "The Pelosian woman we saw going into that Zemoch house in Chyrellos was the count's sister."

"I was sure of it. What else?"

Briefly, Sparhawk repeated what Occuda had told him, glossing over the more gory details.

"It's consistent," she said almost clinically. "That form of sacrifice is a part of the worship of Azash."

"There's more," Sparhawk told her. "When he entered the chamber in the cellar, Occuda saw a shadowy figure back in one of the corners. It was robed and hooded, and its face glowed green."

Sephrenia drew in her breath sharply.

"Could Azash have more than one Seeker out there?"

"With an Elder G.o.d, anything is possible."

"It couldn't be the same one," he said. "Nothing can be in two places at the same time."

"As I said, dear one, with an Elder G.o.d, anything is possible."

"Sephrenia," he said in a strained voice, "I hate to say it, but all this is beginning to frighten me just a little."

"And me as well, dear Sparhawk. Keep the spear of Aldreas close to you. The power of Bh.e.l.liom may protect you. Now go to bed. I need to think."

"Will you bless me before I sleep, little mother?" he asked, dropping to his knees. He suddenly felt like a small, helpless child. He gently kissed her palms.

"With all my heart, my dear one," she replied, enfolding his head in her arms and drawing him to her. "You are the best of them all, Sparhawk," she said to him, "and if you be but strong, not even the gates of h.e.l.l can prevail against you."

As he rose to his feet, flute slid down off her bed and gravely came to him. He felt suddenly unable to move. The little girl took him by the wrists in a gentle grasp that he was powerless to resist. She turned his hands over and gently kissed each of his palms, and her kisses burned in his blood like holy fire. Shaken, Sparhawk left the room without a further word.

He slept fitfully, waking often and stirring uneasily in his bed. The night seemed interminable, and the rumble of thunder shook the very foundations of the castle. The rain the storm had brought with it clawed at the window of the room in which Sparhawk tried to sleep, and water ran in torrents from the slate roof to hammer the stones of the courtyard. It must have been well past midnight when he finally gave up. He threw off his blankets and sat moodily on the edge of the bed. What were they going to do about Bevier? He knew that the Arcian's faith was strong, but the Cyrinic Knight did not have Occuda's iron will. He was young and ingenuous, and he had the native pa.s.sion of all Arcians. Bellina could use that to her advantage. Even if Sephrenia could rid Bevier of his obsessive compulsion, what guarantee would there be that Bellina could not reimpose it upon him at any time it pleased her? Although he shrank from the idea, Sparhawk was forced to admit that the course Occuda had suggested might be the only one available to them.

Then, quite suddenly, he was almost overcome by a sense of dread. Something overpoweringly evil was nearby. He rose from the bed, seeking his sword in the darkness. Then he went to the door and opened it.

The hallway outside his room was dimly lit by a single torch. Kurik sat dozing in the chair outside Bevier's room, but otherwise the hallway was empty. Then Sephrenia's door opened, and she came hurrying out with flute directly behind her. "Did you feel it too?"

"Yes. Can you locate it?"

She pointed at Bevier's door. "It's in there."

"Kurik," Sparhawk said, touching his squire's shoulder.

Kurik's eyes came open immediately. "What's the trouble?" he asked.

"Something's in there with Bevier. Be careful." Sparhawk unhooked Occuda's chain, slipped the latch and slowly pushed the door open.

The room was filled with an eerie light. Bevier lay tossing on his bed, and over him hovered the misty, glowing shape of a naked woman. Sephrenia drew in her breath sharply. "Succubus," she whispered. She immediately began an incantation, motioning sharply to Flute.

The little girl lifted her pipes and began to play a melody so complex that Sparhawk could not even begin to follow it. The glowing and indescribably beautiful woman at the bedside turned towards the door, drawing its lips back to reveal its dripping fangs. It hissed at them spitefully and the hiss seemed overlaid by an insect-like stridulation, but the glowing figure seemed unable to move. The spell continued, and the succubus began to shriek, clutching at its head. Flute's song grew more stern, and Sephrenia's incantation grew louder. The succubus began to writhe, screaming imprecations so vile that Sparhawk flinched back from them. Then Sephrenia lifted one hand and spoke, surprisingly in Elene rather than Styric. "Return to the place from which you came," she commanded, "and venture forth no more this night!"

The succubus vanished with a disjointed howl of frustration, and leaving behind it the foul odour of decay and corruption.

Chapter 15.