Demon Lord Read Online Free Page A

had to find them, however, and
so far he had not come across any sign that they even existed.
    As the headache ebbed to a more
bearable level, he rose and walked outside, glancing irritably at
the sun, which rose in golden glory, a point of hot white light
that stabbed at his eyes. He was still not used to its brightness.
He preferred the dim, warm caverns of the Underworld, which the
inner fire's lurid glow lighted. Why his father wished to conquer
this awful place was beyond him. He just wanted to go home. He
found the sun too bright, the nights too cold, and revolting water
had fallen from the sky until he had learnt to control the weather.
Banishing the clouds, however, brought out the sun in renewed fury.
Gathering the fleecy white puffballs to block out the hated sun
inevitably led to a drenching. Either way, he could not win, and
now rarely bothered to interfere with the weather other than to
deflect gathering storms.
    Bane strolled through the camp,
ignoring the creatures that scrambled from his path, engrossed in
his thoughts. The killing was satisfying, he had to admit. Never
had there been so many victims. The ones brought to the Underworld
had died far too quickly, some before they could be tortured. As he
walked past a clump of trees, his eyes were drawn to a group of
dark creatures around a fire. They sheltered from the sun in the
trees' dimness, hating the bright light even more than he did. He
found their misshapen forms repugnant, yet they were the most
powerful of his followers. They were steeped in the dark power that
filled Gor Troth, the huge cavern that led into the descending
tunnel to the Underworld.
    They were unable to open the
World Gate through which he had emerged, however. The power had
twisted them even beyond their original grotesque shapes, yet each
breed retained a semblance of its initial design. They came in a
variety of species, and kept to their bands. Grims, wights and
vampires generally avoided the larger nasties, night crawlers,
grotesques and weirds. No two were exactly alike, some being more
twisted than others, but their deformities did not seem to hamper
them. Many boasted bat wings, but few could fly. They carried no
weapons other than the claws, fangs or spines with which they had
been born, and although the dark power had shaped them, none could
wield it. They growled as they watched him pass, their eyes glowing
in the firelight.
    Arriving at the place where his
mount was tethered, he watched some trolls toss meat to it, keeping
well clear of its teeth and talons. The lesser red dragon turned
baleful yellow eyes upon its master, snapping its jaws in his
direction. Armed with a formidable array of teeth, claws and
spines, a dragon, even a small red like this one, was a fearsome
beast. It was flightless, but equipped with powerful legs and a
sinuous body that could move with remarkable speed.
    Although not a fire breather, it
was comfortable to ride, and it was also the only Overworld animal
his touch would not kill, he had discovered. When first he had come
across a horse, he had attempted to ride it, but the beast had gone
into a foaming frenzy and collapsed. Irked by this, Bane had
banished all horses from his army, forcing the men to march. He had
captured a dragon instead, and had been well pleased with it. Not
only had it been able to survive his touch, but any who ventured
too close to it died, which suited Bane perfectly.
    The dragon's chains clanked as
it lunged at its handlers, snapping at them as they tossed the
meat. It preferred live prey, and would have rather have eaten live
troll than dead human. Feeding it was no problem; a few humans were
killed every day. Dragons did not usually feed that often. They
spent most of their time in slothful basking, but this one, ridden
daily, needed a great deal of food. When enough wards had been
broken, he would be able to summon a demon steed, but until then
the dragon would suffice.
    As Bane approached, it cowered,
tugging at