“My lord…” Amos hurried across the room, his voice echoing off the chamber walls.
Bokor came awake with a startled gasp. He glared at Amos and boomed with rage, “I told you not to disturb me. I am resting.”
“I know, My Lord. I’m sorry to disturb you, but some of the hunters you sent out have returned. They have captured a vessel for you.” Amos bowed his head, his tone genuflecting.
Bokor’s rage diminished. “Fine, fine. Send them in.”
Two empty-handed disciples strode quickly across the hall and dropped to their knees before the throne. Following them were two more disciples, half carrying/ half dragging a large man between them. His head was drooped as if he were unconscious.
When the disciples reached the throne, they dropped their burden and joined their comrades as they knelt and bowed in reverence. The blond, muscular man fell to the dirty floor with a thud and a moan.
“Rise and bring him forward.” Bokor motioned towards the man writhing and moaning on the floor.
The four minions rose, heads down. The two in front stepped to the side while the two that had brought the man in grabbed him under his arms and pulled him forward across the dirty floor until he was about five feet away, directly in front of Bokor’s throne. Then they pulled him up to his knees and released him. As Bokor expected, he didn’t fall forward again, as he would have if he’d been as injured or mentally fogged as he’d played. The man’s back straightened and his head rose, revealing alert blue eyes. Without warning, he struck out at the disciple nearest to him, sweeping one large fist to the side, striking him in the stomach and doubling him over. The blond jumped to his feet and turned just in time to catch another disciple across the throat, sending him to the floor gasping.
“Get him! Don’t let him get away,” Bokor thundered.
But the man wasn’t running; he was fighting. A third disciple lunged at him but slid to a heap in the floor when the blond disappeared. Bokor blinked as the blond reappeared behind the fourth minion, wrapping his arm around the man’s neck and squeezing.
“Amos!” Bokor howled, but Amos was already placing a long tube to his mouth. There was a hissing sound, and the large man let the minion go as his hand flew to his neck. He stumbled back, pulled out the dart, and glared at it for one long moment before his entire body went limp and he slid to the floor. Around him, the beaten disciples began to get to their feet, coughing and stumbling.
“You fools!” Bokor bellowed. His rage was so intense he was sputtering. “That is the City Guard I sent you to get information on. I did not tell you to bring him to me.”
One of the disciples, Bokor was so enraged he could not think of his name, stepped forward. “My Lord, he is a mage and very strong. We knew you wanted information about him, but we also knew he would be a good avatar. We thought you could force him to give you the information you need.”
He could. Actually, force wouldn’t even enter the situation. It would be easy to find out everything Rangel knew. But that was not the problem. “You idiot. The number-one rule is to be inconspicuous. Do not draw attention, and do not get caught. The authorities have already investigating missing mages. He is a Guard; his disappearance will be noticed. It will be impossible to hunt in the city any longer.”
“But My Lord, the information he has…”
“Will be useful. That is the only reason you are still living. Get out of my sight,” Bokor hissed. “The rest of you, take him to the women to be cleansed. I will prepare and the ritual will take place as soon as the drug keeping him paralyzed wears off.”
The minions hefted the unconscious Rangel and hurried out of the hall. “Amos, send out men to find the other hunters and call them back. I think I will get all the information I need from Rangel. I think it is time to change tactics and accelerate my ascension.”
“Understood, My Lord.”
“Now, leave me. I need to prepare for the ritual. Give me one hour for my prayers, and then send the women in for the cleansing.”
“Yes, My Lord,” Amos said and backed away, following the disciples.
Bokor took in a deep breath, trying to dissipate the anger and rage within him. This would put a twist in his plans, but perhaps speeding things up was for the best. In just a few hours, he would know everything City Guard Rangel knew. It would, perhaps, give him an insight into how to bring his Fiona to him. And soon, he would be a God.
He looked up at the serene, stone face high above him. “My Goddess, bless me, your humble servant. Make my body strong, soul pure, and give me the power to defeat my enemies.” He bowed his head and continued the prayer that would start the soul-exchange ritual.