"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 na*ed 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 God 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 God 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 God 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 pass 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 God, 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 God, 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 Bhelliom 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 Hell 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 passion 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 na*ed 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

"How did she get out of that tower?" Sparhawk asked in a hushed voice. "There's only one door, and Occuda's got it chained shut."

"She didn't get out," Sephrenia replied absently, her brow creased with a frown. "I've only seen this happen once before," she added. Then she smiled a bit wryly.

"We're lucky I remembered the spell."

"You're not making any sense, Sephrenia," Kurik said.

"She was right here."

"No, actually she wasn't. The succubus is not of the flesh. It's the spirit of the one who sends it. Bellina's body is still confined in that tower, but her spirit roams the halls of this melancholy house, infecting everything it touches."

"Bevier's lost then, isn't he?" Sparhawk asked bleakly.

"No. I've at least partially freed him of her influence. If we move quickly enough, I can clear his mind entirely. Kurik, go find Occuda. I need to ask him some questions."

"Right away," the squire replied, going out of the door.

"Won't she come back tomorrow night and infect Bevier again?" Sparhawk asked.

"I think there's a way to prevent that, but I've got to question Occuda to be sure. Don't talk so much, Sparhawk. I need to think." She sat on the bed, rather absently laying her hand on Bevier's forehead. He stirred restlessly. "Oh, stop that," she snapped at the sleeping man. She muttered a few words in Styric, and the young Arcian suddenly sank back into his pillow.

Sparhawk waited nervously as the small woman pondered the situation. Several minutes later, Kurik returned with Occuda. Sephrenia rose to her feet.

"Occuda," she began, but then seemed to change her mind. "No," she said, almost to herself. "There's a faster way. Here's what I want you to do. I want you to think back to the moment you opened the door in the cellar only the moment when you opened it. Don't dwell on what Bellina was doing."

"I don't quite understand, My Lady," Occuda said.

"You don't have to. Just do it. We don't have much time." She murmured briefly to herself and then reached up to touch his shaggy brow. She had to stand on her tiptoes. "Why are you people all so tall?" she complained.

She kept her fingers lightly on Occuda's forehead for a moment and then let out an explosive breath. "Just as I thought," she said exultantly. "It had to be there. Occuda, where's the count right now?"