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Assur of
Babylonia
voyages to an alien world in...
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by Kirk Straughen
About the author
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Episode 3:
The Dark Idol
AS ASSUR TUMBLED IN WILD DESCENT to certain death, he
composed himself for the end as best he could: A brief prayer to the
gods in thankfulness that his passing would be mourned by neither
parents nor lover, and a certain perverse satisfaction in knowing that
Amnon-Nur would never have his amulet.
“It won’t be long now,” he thought, surprised at his own calmness as the
surface of the sea swelled beneath him.
Unexpectedly, something coiled about his ankles, its iron grip slowing
his headlong fall. He gasped in agony as the force of deceleration
wracked his body, plunging him into dark unconsciousness.
Looking up upon recovery, he saw the elemental, two tentacles entwining
his legs, the other four pointing down rigidly, flaming with a white
radiance that arrested his rapid descent. Never did Assur think he’d be
so glad to feel its clammy embrace.
A few moments later the corpse of the creature that had assailed them
fell past, a flaming ruin. It struck the surface of the strange sea,
and vanished in a fountain of ebon spray.
Slowly their speed and altitude diminished until they were skimming
across the surface of an alien sea whose waters were a fluid of liquid
darkness that stained the looming shore with sable foam.
Upon arriving at the sandy beach, the elemental gently lowered Assur to
its pristine whiteness that was fringed by a jungle of tall fern-like
trees; their trunks, dark purple in color, were crowned by leaves of
silver-green. He sat down heavily, knees trembling in delayed reaction
to his ordeal.
“Indeed,” he thought. “Some things can be more frightening than death
itself.”
Rays of thought, cast by the being, impinged strongly upon his
consciousness, interrupting his musings. It seemed there was an avenue
of stone carvings leading from the beach through jungle and to the
temple. The temple itself radiated an emanation the elemental indicated
it could not approach. Lifting a tentacle, it pointed in the direction
he was to take, and sent him upon his way.
The dark, humid jungle closed in upon Assur. Strange
pungent scents assailed his nostrils, and unfamiliar cries his ears.
Riotous growths smothered the carvings – huge cubes of gray stone
covered in an unknown script – making them difficult to see.
Drawing his sword, he began to hack a path through the silver-green
underbrush, following the dimly discerned line of monuments. Even with
the sword’s incredibly keen blade it was hard work, and he was soon
soaked with sweat.
All about the Babylonian loomed overgrown mounds, the jungle choked
ruins of some long forgotten race. Fortunately, Assur’s mind and body
possessed the resilience of healthful youth -- despite the dangers and
ordeals, he now felt exhilarated at being the first man of Earth to
tread upon this unknown land. Doggedly, he forged ahead, forcing a path
through the tangled verdure.
Pausing to rest, he wiped the sweat from his brow, enjoying an
unexpected cool breeze that brought welcome relief from the stifling
heat. Suddenly, the breeze increased to a strong wind that lashed the
jungle. Darkness, like a black cloth, wrapped itself about the world.
Assur looked up in disbelief. The sky, one moment bright sunshine, was
now transformed as if by magic into a boiling mass of black clouds that
blotted out all light.
Black rain began to fall in driving sheets that struck him with
stinging force, and in the heavens rings of crimson fire – the weird
lightning of this world – exploded into being and plunged downwards,
drawn moonward like iron to a loadstone.
One touched a tree nearby, blasting its crown to matchwood. Splinters
from the jungle giant, as deadly as arrows, flew in all directions.
“I’ve got to find shelter, and fast,” thought Assur, as an arm length
fragment of wood speared into the earth a short distance from his prone
body.
He spied a huge hollow log illuminated by the flare of ring lightning.
Sword drawn, he hurriedly crawled within, only to find it was the abode
of some nameless terror. The creature, a formless membrane of tough
rubbery flesh, enveloped him in its horrid embrace.
He tried to strike with his sword, but found it was pinned to his body
by the constricting flesh. Hampered by the confines of the creature’s
membrane and blinded by the darkness, he fought by touch alone. Raw
panic threatened to consume him as he thrashed madly about, and it was
only by employing his iron will that he reined in his fear.
The thing was smothering him in its fleshy folds, and he knew he had
only moments to live. With all his strength he thrust the sword through
the slug-like thing, and ripped the blade downward, freeing himself.
Blood sprayed everywhere, its stench like that of burning sulfur.
Gasping for air, and backing out hurriedly, Assur
emerged into the gently falling rain. He stood shivering, and not just
from the cold liquid that sluiced away the sickly green blood in which
he was covered. The storm had passed, but he felt his ordeals had just
begun.
The passing of another half hour found him gazing upon a
growth-smothered ruin. It was a pyramid of gray cyclopean blocks carved
in the form of leering skulls. There was a presence about the place
that touched him like the finger of a giant, oppressing him with its
very massiveness and brutality.
Cautiously, he approached the gaping portal, cutting away several thick
vines that oozed a resinous sap, and peered within. Here and there
shafts of sunlight pierced the gloom, disclosing a vast open space
surprisingly clean, as if the very jungle feared to enter this abode of
unknown deities.
Gripping his sword firmly, Assur stepped within. In the shadows loomed
the image of a god wrought in ebon metal, a blacker mass that stood
apart from the surrounding darkness. As he advanced the image resolved
itself into a hideous idol that squatted upon a dais encrusted with
precious gems.
To the Babylonian’s eyes the body resembled that of an ape, but covered
with scales instead of hair. A thick spiral horn protruded from between
the shoulders where a head and neck should have been, and in the middle
of its chest was a single eye of amber crystal that seemed to glare at
Assur with malignant sight. He shuddered involuntarily, and wondered
who or what would worship such a being.
Around its horn hung the amulet – a bronze disc the size of a man’s
palm, with a clear jewel set in its center.
“That can wait,” thought Assur as he stooped and, using the tip of his
sword began levering out gems from the jewel-encrusted dais,
transferring them to a pouch at his belt.
The sudden sound of metal grating on metal made him look up. To his
horror he beheld the idol coming to life, its huge claw-like hands,
large as millstones, reaching out to seize him in a crushing grasp.
On to Episode
4 :Treachery Unmasked
Back to Episode 2 :Voyage to the Moon
Swords Across the Void and the character of Assur are copyright by Kirk Straughen. It may not be copied without permission of the author except for purposes of reviews. (Though you can print it out to read it, natch.)