Far Horizons: Tales of Sci-Fi, Fantasy and Horror. Issue #11 February 2015 | Page 32

what is the Hero without the Sword?”
The ball blazed again and the red light made the old
man’s eyes look feral, like an animal filled with blood
lust. “Yes, Master. The fool Manfred has called a Council of the Wise at Melasurej. He thinks he has found
another manifestation of the Everlasting Hero. Those
whose hope fails think that Gilgamesh is reborn.”
The ball flashed a cold blue and the old man winced.
“Forgive me Master; I will not utter his name again. It
is a vain hope. I have a spy in the Council. I will learn
everything that happens and whatever futile plans they
put in place. My armies march ever forward. I shall
join them myself soon and will take Melasurej in your
name before the year is out.”
The ball faded to yellow and then translucent. The old
man’s eyes blinked again and his hands released the object. His green eyes turned red and his voice hardened.
“Fetch me a slave girl – old enough to meet my needs,
but still tender.” A servant who had been cowering in
the corner of the room rushed to obey.

A Spy in the Camp
The old man appeared frail as he hunched over the table. Long white hair and a matching beard almost obscured the object he held with both hands. Cold green,
bloodshot eyes focussed intently on the centre of the
object, which looked much like a soothsayer’s crystal
ball. When he spoke, his voice was smooth and obsequious. His words dripped with honey as he fawned
into the glass ball. “All is in order, Master. Your great
plan will soon come to pass. I have located the Sword
and have dispatched my trusted deputies to recover it.
Soon the only threat to your Mightiness will be safe in
our possession. Soon you will have control of the entire
multiverse. You won’t forget your humble servant who
has served you so faithfully and well? I only ask to rule
FirstWorld. What is one dimension in the infinity of
the multiverse?”
The ball blazed red and the old man shook as his unblinking eyes locked onto the object. “Yes, Master. But

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The old man paced up and down impatiently, muttering to himself. “Soon I shall have the Sword, the Hero,
and Melasurej itself. Then I will not have to debase
myself anymore. Then I shall be the master of the multiverse.”
The door opened and the servant returned with a
naked girl. He pushed her inside the room and hastily
closed the door, with him on the other side. The girl
was barely a teenager. She struggled to hide her nakedness with her hands and cowered in a corner, head
down, barely able to look at the old man. She shivered
in terror as she waited for him to take her. Her tiny
new breasts heaved as she struggled to form words of
pleading that might save her honour.
The old man looked at her and smiled, displaying long
canines. He began to salivate and his beard became
matted and wet. As he moved towards the cowering
girl, he began to change. The grey-haired old man
transmogrified into a hideous wolf form. He stood
eight feet tall on his two hind legs and his body was
now transformed from a seemingly feeble old man into