Short Story - Roger ZELAZNY: Dark Evil.

Heresy #05

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                         Roger ZELAZNY                         


     The job was done. And done well, I might add.    
     The princess lay dead on the floor of my cave, among
scattered bones of heroes, magicians, princes, princesses,
dwarves and elves, and fragments of nine swords intended for
protection of the kingdom of goodness and joy, which I destroyed before
its buds could bloom.                               
     I touched the fangs with my tongue and felt a burning taste.              
     The last hero, bent in an unimaginable way, lay in
corner.  His magic blade was broken.  It was the tenth and
the last of those forged centuries ago by the Forces of Light for
in order to fight my master and those like me,
serves emy. What a pleasure! The ring that I ctepery lies
in a precious box in a niche behind me.                   
     The remains of their faithful comrades - the gnomes - are also scattered
everywhere.  I can see the little hand that's still holding
ax  Did he really think he could approach me?
or cause harm with your pathetic weapons?Only the old wizard is still breathing with difficulty. But I broke it
staff and dissipated its power on the paths of Darkness. I gave emy a few
moments of life in order to laugh at him and see how
he curses the forces he served.                             
 - Can you hear me, Lortan? - I asked.                    
     “Yes, Baktor,” he answered from where he fell to my left. 
     He sat leaning against the wall, turning his head unnaturally
legs.                                                           
     - Why am I still alive?                                        
     - For the last fun, Clothed with Light.  If you
curse all that is good and beautiful, true and noble, I
I will give you a quick death.                                     
     “No need,” he replied.                                   
     - Why not? You lost, just like the nine before
fight.  You are the last one. It's over. The good guys are lost, that's it
as one.                                                       
     He didn't answer, so I teased him further. - And your hero
- Eric Bradshaw, or whatever you call him - didn't even touch
me with your weapon. The last one of you finally dealt me a good one
hit on the shoulder before I destroyed it.                   
     - Were we the worst you've encountered? - askedhe.                                                             
     - Oh, I wouldn't say that. Rather, you were among the best.     
     - Do the old defeated man a favor and answer
me. Who was the best?                                            
     I laughed.                                                
     - Easier than easy. Glorin, from the second kingdom. He was like that
close to killing me, which is just adorable. His sword
fell like lightning from heaven.  The muscles in his arms moved like
sea tide He was shiny with sweat from exertion. He
scolded me so wonderfully that it sounded like poetry. I was
nailed to the spot.  I barely stopped him for this too
it took all my magic rather than the strength of my body.
Truly, it was Glorin and his sword Dammering who were the greatest.   
     - So, poor Eric couldn't do something like that.             
     - Yes, and none of those I have encountered. And now
the reign of my lord Gloym will never end, so
how Darkness defeated Light. There is no one left to oppose us.     
 - Among those swords that I see on the floor, show me which one
Dammering and where Glorin's bones lie so I can see where
our greatest hope is lost.                                
     - You talk too muchold man.  It's time to finish
conversations.                                                      
     - But I only see nine handles among the rubble.         
     I extended my paws and rose up to hit him. But he
held me back, not with magic, but with a simple word:                      
     - You haven't won yet.                                       
     - How can you say this when you're the last one?          
     “You’re lying,” he continued, “when you say that
your master's reign will never end because
Darkness defeated Light. You don't see your own weakness.    
     - I have no weakness, wizard.                           
     Through the darkness I saw his smile.                      
     “Okay,” I said.  -You don't need to curse
greatness, truth, beauty and nobility to deserve
quick death. Just tell me what kind of weakness you see.        
     - I have always considered the advantages of a quick death in numbers
those in last place,” he answered.                       
     - Tell me how I can defend myself. - Saucy old man
has the nerve to laugh. I decided that his death would be long
and painful.                                                  
     - I'll tell you, and you won't be able to protect yourself from it. I
Now I see that you will die when you know love.I stamped my foot and roared.                                  
     -  Love?  Love?  Your ym is as damaged as yours
body to accuse me of such obscenities! Love!   
     My laughter filled the cave as I beheaded him and rolled
his head back towards the aisle. My sides hurt from laughing.           
     After some time I took someone's leg and started chewing it.
At least that's it. Must be a hero.                              
     My lord Gloym, the present and future ruler of the world,
entered in the evening, dressed in clothes splashed with Light, to
praise my work and congratulate me on a job well done
for centuries.  As a reward for my honest service, he skillfully gave me
processed gold bar with my name engraved on it
German                                                            
     “My dear Baktor,” he asked after a while. -
How could it be that I see the remains of only nine weapons?
Knights of Light, although all ten died?                         
     I laughed.  - There are only nine here.  The tenth one is over there
corridor.  This hero walked differently than the others and I stopped
him there. He was very skillful.                                 
     - I want to see this cam.                                 
     - Of course, sir. Follow me.I showed emy the way. I heard him sigh when I
stopped in front of a niche.                                        
     - He's safe!  - he hissed. - The man is not killed and the blade is not
broken!                                                         
     I laughed again.  - But he is harmless, sir. From now on
forever.  I stopped him alone more with magic than with power.
of your body.  On occasion I come here to admire
him.  He was the best. He was very close to winning
me.                                                           
     -  Fool! - he exclaimed. - The spell can be lifted! And
I see that it is Glorin with his Dammering! We must end
with them now to make sure of your victory!                  
     He reached for his wand in the pouch on his belt.       
     I turned again and saw the tip of this blade, which I
stopped an inch from my chest when my spell
froze all movement and left them in the position forever
delayed justice and punishment.  Dammerung's blade was
thinner than a sheet, its tip was close to what could create
infinity...                                                
     I heard my master:                                 
     - Go away, Baktor.And I heard another voice, my own, saying
words that break the spell. The delightful blow was completed
after a thousand-year pause.  Then the sword slipped out of me
a fountain of my vital juices and I fell back.              
     And when this beautiful blade that took my life
slowly leaving the body, turns against Gloym, I throw
a look at its owner, his beloved face, his stern
smile.                                                         
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