Timelock Read online

  Timelock

  By R.G.Knighton

  Copyright 2013

  Published by Russell Knighton at Smashwords

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to smashwords.com

  All rights are reserved to the author. No part of this ebook may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. Any reference to historical events, names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination and do not intend to cause defamation of historical reference in any way. Characters are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  This book is dedicated to my family.

  Thank you for all your help and patience

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  BOOK ONE

  PROLOGUE

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  BOOK TWO

  PROLOGUE

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  CHAPTER FORTY

  CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

  CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

  CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

  CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

  BOOK THREE

  CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

  CHAPTER FORTY-NINE

  CHAPTER FIFTY

  EPILOGUE

  BOOK ONE

  PROLOGUE

  Carrion birds circled high in the cloudless sky, lazily surfing the hot thermals rising above the huge confluence of people gathered in the royal courtyard of the grand palace of Memnon. The high walled and gated square covered an area of four football pitches and backdrops the sight of many a grand procession and close quarter sporting tournament. It even had tiered seating and private enclosures for important guests and the Pharaoh’s extended family.

  Today it looked as if the whole city of Thebes had packed tightly together to witness the execution of Toomak, high priestess, shaman, and necromancer for the royal family and former close friend of Memnon himself. For months, the marketplace gossip has been of Toomak’s whereabouts, who had disappeared following the murder of the king’s only son Haspet. For twenty years, her magus powers helped Memnon hold the throne of Egypt, starting with success in the civil war and culminating in the defeat of Memnon’s twin brother Hakset whom Memnon still keeps in chains in the palace dungeons.

  Her magical powers seem to have no boundaries, from conjuring up the great flood wiping out most of the enemy chariots threatening the gates of the city, to the death of the usurper himself Xerses the Great. A hugely muscled and fabled warrior who stood alone on the battlefield in front of twenty-five thousand of his own men, challenging anyone brave enough to fight him in solo hand to hand combat in place of a full scale war. To the victor, unity of the two crowns of Upper and Lower Egypt. Xerses and his army had already defeated the Pharaoh of the lower kingdom and he now threw down the gauntlet, challenging Memnon to pit his crown of the upper kingdom against his own. Storytellers recalled how his entire army laughed and jeered at the sight of a frail dark skinned old woman pass through Memnon’s ranks and walk towards the fabled warrior.

  “I see no soldier before me.”

  Xerses cried, turning around and lapping up the adulation of his men.

  “Is there anyone else hiding behind your whore mothers legs that have big enough balls to die like a man in place of this miserable old hag.”

  Memnon’s army remained motionless. The Pharaoh did not want to appear a coward in front of his men but he was persuaded not to take up the challenge by his generals for the sake of his people and the Pharaoh’s army numbered less than five thousand, half of which were reserves. Toomak’s magic was decided to be the best option.

  The sun glinted from Xerses’ sword as he passed the time practicing thrusts and parries as Toomak slowly approached then finally stopped less than five paces away. Both armies watched silently and the only sound heard was the wind flapping the royal blue and gold pennant atop of a golden spear attached to Memnon’s chariot.

  Xerses paused and stroked his pointed black beard unsure of what to do next. Should the great warrior hack down the feeble old woman and claim victory over the royal palace or sound the advance and fight his army directly, ignoring the insolence and guaranteeing his status as a noble warrior. Before he could make up his mind, Toomak took the decision from him. She ran around Xerses chanting under her breath and pissing on the desert floor, not caring if the pungent hot liquid stung her legs and stained her white skirts. Xerses laughed heartily at the sight, followed by his men who bashed swords and spears on the back of their shields in sycophantic amusement. Toomak continued to chant as she completed the circle then produced from beneath her tunic a lump of naturally occurring glass that she found many years ago in the desert. Aware of its potential, she had employed one of the finest artisans in the city to grind it down then polish it into a clear convex shaped lens which she now held high over her head to focus the sun’s rays on the urine soaked sand. Xerses watched curiously as the beam of light heated the liquid and wisps of smoke began to rise. Suddenly the entire ring exploded in a curtain of flame trapping the warrior king inside. He tried to run but found himself unable to lift his feet from the ground. Toomak danced around the flames as everyone watched the giant scream for mercy, but it was already too late. His golden-coated armour heated rapidly, speeding up the incineration process. Toomak watched in ghoulish fascination as the black cockscomb of Xerses’ battle helmet burst into flames and in a blind panic he grabbed at the cheek plates, wrenched it from his head and threw it to the ground only for the skin on his palms and fingers to bind to the hot metal and tear away exposing the bare bones of his hands.

  Any exposed skin bubbled and popped then oozed over the shiny armour like melting cheese. Not one single soldier in his army ran to his aid, they just stared transfixed as Xerses long black mane fell about his shoulders, began to smoke, then erupted into a fireball. He fell to his knees and tried to scream but when his mouth opened the muscles on one side of his jaw detached from the skull, and the lower mandible swung free like a pendulum. Xerses handsome features exuded liquid flesh and i
t drizzled onto the earth transforming him into a creature from a nightmare. Every muscle now exposed seared in the heat and he began to cook in his own juices, with the wind carrying a delicious aroma of barbecuing meat towards his men.

  Toomak clapped her hands in glee as just before he died, the jelly in Xerses eyeballs came to the boil and as they ejaculated from their sockets, he fell lifeless to the ground. Toomak made a mock run towards Xerses men and laughed so hard she fell to her knees, pissing herself for real as twenty-five thousand men turned and fled in terror.

  Toomak surreptitiously retrieved the now empty phial of flammable liquid that she had secreted beneath her robes, keeping up the pretence that she pissed fire. Only then did she stand up and turn to accept the cheers and adulation of Memnon and his army.

  Memnon ordered for the fire to be extinguished and whatever remained of the body to be transported back to the city and put on display for one full moon so all comers can witness what happens to challengers to the crown. The remains of the body will then be stripped and thrown to the Nile crocodiles. Xerses golden armour will be cleaned and then displayed in the palace to maintain Memnon’s position of a God in the eyes of his people.

  This saviour of the kingdom now resided in a dungeon with her hands chained together and secured above her head to a stone pillar in the centre of a cell. An opaque sack placed over her head and secured around her neck stopped her hypnotising anyone within her field of vision to aid her in possible escape.

  Toomak tilted her head like a bird of prey as she sensed the presence of someone standing very close to her in her cell. Inhaling deeply she instantly recognised the aroma of opulence.

  “What can I do to honour your presence, Pharaoh Memnon, King of Kings?”

  Toomak mocked from behind the linen bag covering her head that bellowed softly in and out as she spoke. Memnon remained silent as he crept around behind the pillar, emerging from the other side. All the time Toomak listened intently for any sound made by the Pharaoh, and even through the linen hood, her bat like hearing told her exactly of the Pharaoh’s position. Apart from the sound of her own breath amplified by the confines of the hood, Toomak could hear Pharaoh Memnon’s own laboured breath as he fought his instincts to explode with anger and strangle her where she stood. The prolonged silence lasted an age until the Pharaoh finally asked,

  “Why did you kill my son?”

  His voice cracked under the strain of the question and Toomak paused while she decided how to answer. She knew that whatever she said it would not change her fate and pleading her innocence would only insult the Pharaoh’s intelligence. The fact of the matter was that she killed his son to protect Memnon as well as for herself. Toomak knew that Shusis, Memnon’s wife had been sleeping with the commander of the royal guard behind Memnon’s back and as the child grew, it would become blatantly obvious to all but the feeble minded that Memnon was not the sire, causing the collapse of his dynasty. For her own self, the heart of a royal lineage, even if it was via Memnon’s wife who is also of royal descent, is a vital ingredient of some of the most powerful spells ever created. If it was not for a drop of the infant’s blood spotted on the floor outside Toomak’s door, Memnon would not have called for the search of her rooms and the discovery of his child’s heart hidden within.

  Toomak delayed her answer too long and Memnon angered at the insolence. He went for her throat then changed his mind at the last second and tore away Toomak’s ragged clothing exposing her wizened and naked body for all to see.

  “Guards, take her away for execution.”

  Commanded the Pharaoh, and two soldiers came forth, released her chains and dragged her by the arms into the hot afternoon sunshine. The deafening roar of laughter that accompanied Toomak’s procession to the platform was only slightly eased by the fact that her head was covered by the linen bag and she could not see the thousands of mocking faces. Catcalls and wolf whistles abounded as the guards forced her to climb the ladder to the platform, further exposing her bony behind that did little to hide her private parts. The final embarrassment came as she stood on the top of the platform when one of the guards slid his broadsword under her empty dugs and tilted it, lifting up the flaps of skin, and exhibiting her black withered nipples for everyone to see and scream with laughter. Toomak jolted herself free of the sword then silenced the crowd with a high -pitched ululation before her retort began.

  “How dare any of you godless children of whores stand here and mock me today. If it was not for me, you would all be living as slaves under King Xerses the Great, or died of starvation when the rains failed. I alone killed the king and I alone brought forth the rains. This is just a small part of all the miracles I have produced to save your pathetic skins. I will die today but I swear on all the gods that someday I will return and bring with me an army from the underworld, when we will feast on your living flesh and steal your souls. I curse every one of you to a slow and painful death.”

  The people looked uneasily at each other and disturbing murmurs spread throughout the crowd. Silence quickly ensued as Pharaoh Memnon took to the stage. Looking every inch the embodiment of a living God, he accepted the crowd’s adulation as they watched him pose dressed in his finest crisp white tunic contrasting the dark muscled outline of his freshly oiled skin. Raising his hand for silence, a hush descended allowing him to begin.

  “Standing before you today is Toomak. The former high priestess, personal physician, and close friend to the royal court of Memnon. She has been a valuable servant to this land and without her; I would not be standing here talking to you today and for that I am eternally grateful. All these achievements aside, she has been accused and found guilty of the heinous crime of murder of my only son, Prince Haspet, heir to the two kingdoms of Upper and Lower Egypt.”

  Groans of disapproval resonated through the crowd, allowing Memnon to clear his throat and maintain his demeanour despite the anguish felt over his son’s death. Once again, raising his hand, the crowd silenced allowing Memnon to continue.

  “There can be only one punishment for a crime such as this and no amount of accomplishments will absolve the perpetrator. The only succour I can give is that death will be swift and not long and painful as such a crime deserves.”

  Murmurs of disapproval again rose from the crowd and for once in his life Memnon looked indecisive in front of his people. He had hoped for a quick beheading, bringing an end to the sorry matter but the people demanded more as a shout from the very back built up into a crescendo of noise as virtually everyone present chanted over and over,

  “Bird of prey, bird of prey, bird of prey.”

  Memnon raised his hand for silence the crowd obeyed but as he turned to order the guards to prepare the prisoner for beheading, a small group near the rear started up again. Turning back again to face the crowd as the chant once more built up into a deafening wall of sound, Memnon started to raise his hand again but fearing to lose the respect of his people, he quickly lowered it and accepted their will. Realising what was going to happen, Toomak screamed as she was forced onto her back with her hands and feet bound spread eagled to a large x-shaped wooden cross. This was in turn raised to vertical and secured to a post in front of a small waist high table. A slave ran from the palace kitchens carrying a small pile of offal which she placed on the tabletop then stepped back, bowing her head as Memnon approached.

  “Bird of prey, bird of prey.”

  The crowd had now lowered their voices and whispered in an intense fervour as Memnon nodded to the executioner who approached the condemned. Using a small knife, sharpened to a razors edge, he carved several small triangular holes in Toomak’s abdomen. Toomak screamed as he slid the blade under each symmetric design and prised the loosened flesh away leaving weeping and bloodied wounds, not big enough to bleed from profusely, but to provide a slow trickle of warm blood.

  The crowd shielded their eyes, as they looked skywards while everyone cleared the stage leaving Toomak alone to her fate. Slowly, the three black
dots circling high in the sky grew steadily larger as they spiralled down revealing their familiar broad winged outline. The crowd remained silent so as not to frighten the creatures as they finally landed heavily on the table containing the offal. Toomak screamed and the birds immediately took to the air, grabbing some of the loose pieces in their hooked beaks before takeoff. Fearing this would take forever, Memnon ordered for Toomak to be stunned, which the executioner did expertly with a blow to the back of Toomak’s head using the hilt of his sword. This allowed him to remove the hood and place a gag in her mouth then replace it before she awoke.

  The smell of unwashed and sweating bodies in the crowd added to the disgusting tableaux as everyone waited patiently in the heat of the afternoon sun. When the vultures returned and continued with their meal, the scent of Toomak’s blood finally attracted one of the birds and it flapped awkwardly to her side and pecked at one of the wounds. Toomak jolted back into consciousness and tried to scream but found herself unable. She twitched and jerked trying to scare the birds away but it was not enough as the fragrance of fresh blood increased their bravery. Repeatedly, the vultures pecked at her flesh, digging a little deeper with every jab as they tore away a juicy morsel. Hungry for more gore the crowd patiently watched as one of the birds managed to tear away a strip of skin right across Toomak’s belly. Even gagged, Toomak managed to squeal loudly enough to satisfy the blood lust of the crowd as the vultures probed even deeper. Eventually one of them worked its way through the abdominal wall and prised part of her intestines out through the hole and the birds began a squabble over the succulent prize. Flapping their huge black wings and squawking, the two vultures finished up in a tug of war and they danced across the table, extruding more and more sickly grey bowel through the laceration as Toomak’s body danced like a macabre marionette in time with the birds as they hopped up and down. Eventually, Toomak managed to worry through her gag and released a pitiful scream but it was too late. The birds ignored her screaming curses and proceeded to peck with gusto. The repulsive display continued throughout the afternoon and eventually the crowd began to tire of the spectacle and wandered slowly away from the square. Memnon posted a guard and walked wearily back into the palace wondering if any of the curses Toomak swore today would ever come true.