The students left. The pit fiend remarked how little he had learned that day and had one more laugh at the wizard mark that glowed on Tiyru’s forehead. The lich also chuckled as they left. The mind flayer, crackling staff in hand, put a hand to his chest and bowed before leaving. The naga was reviewing the notes taken with her hobgoblin and the zombies stood motionless. Tiyru lagged behind and pretended to look at the scroll while the other students left the chamber.
“My lord,” she approached the Illrigger and indicated the mark of binding on her forehead, “how does one break this bond?”
“That question would be better asked of my wife. She is a mage of great understanding and power. I myself do not know. Besides, I thought devils knew the tricks of escaping a binding and slaying their summoners.”
“I do, and I have. But this one is different. A mage, physically weak but very clever. Her precautions are twofold because she is in deep fear. She believes she is being hunted by vampires and she summons me whenever she thinks one is near. I have yet to see one.”
“Sounds like a paranoid fool, exploit that.”
“I have tried. Her will is strong, and her terror doesn’t cloud her reason. The more frightened she becomes the more careful. “
“I have some advice, but you must earn it. Draw your weapons, hopefully your arm is not as conquered as your soul,” the Illrigger smiled, stepped back and swung his spiked chain overhead.
The erinyes face twisted in disdain but, as they fought she allowed a smile that matched her opponent’s. She knew the type and didn’t hold back. She’d win his respect only by testing him to his utmost. Unless she drew his blood, this would be their last sparring session and she would get nothing from him. She pounded his armor with her mace and longsword. He tore her chainmail and flesh to tatters with his spiked chain. As they rounded each other for another pass, the Illrigger feinted, wrapped his chain around her mace and jerked it from her grasp. It was a move she had predicted and feigned a moment of shock, only to slash him across the throat under the buckle of his helm. A jet of blood flew across the room. The Illrigger gurgled and coughed. He immediately stopped, put a hand to his neck and breathed the words to an Inflict spell to seal the wound. She laughed at him.
“Ha! So, have I ‘earned it,’ mortal? You dare much, speaking to me like this. I am Tiyru, Dread Commander of the Dripping Edge legion! I’ve slain more demons than you have years, and more mortals than you have bloody whiskers in your beard! You’d better -”
Her words were cut off with a thud. She felt a massive blow, her spine crack and saw a pillar hurtling toward her. She bounced off the pillar, heard another crack inside her body and hit the floor. Her ichor pooled around her.
The Illrigger approached, a hand still clapped to his throat. Behind him, an undead stone giant stared vacantly and swung a tree trunk to its shoulder.
“Your flanks, Tiyru, watch your flanks. Or in this case, your back,” he spat blood in her face, “a commander should know these basics. No wonder a mortal fool could bind you! Now go and study.”
The death knight strode off and positioned the undead for tomorrow’s class. The broken erinyes slowly got to her feet and caught her breath. Sir Tristan inspected her weapons where she dropped them, nodded and set them on her desk. With a final glance at her, he left for his chambers.
Tiyru maintained her look of defiant hatred until he left. I have you, mortal. You will tell me what I need to know of your own free will. She was a devil, a feminine one. She didn’t need to be a succubus to smell arousal on a mortal man. She sought her own room where she would heal and study the mortal’s scroll. A clock had been placed in her room. Mortal time was different. This fortress didn’t understand the passage of time. The delicious hatreds, intrigues, and agonies of Dis were eternal.
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