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Final confrontation at the fiery heart of Snake Mountain Previous chapter: fav.me/dc5rxco

#adventure #captured #he #hero #heroism #man #skeletor #slave #trapjaw #triklops #eternos #captivehero #adam #duncan #eternia #evillyn #fantasy #goodvsevil #grayskull #heman #hostage #humiliation #magic #motu #orko #power #princeadam #prisoner #sorceress #sorcery #superhero #swordandsorcery #teela #torture #hemanmastersoftheuniverse #captiveprince #motumastersoftheuniverse #powerofgrayskull #motumasters #princeadamofeternia #musclor #heman #he_man #motumovie #maitresdelunivers #captiveprince #MAA #amosdeluniverso #marlena #shera #she_ra #randor #keldor #loincloth #chained #hemanskeletor #motumovie #princeadamofeternia #manatarms #domminatorideluniverso #tanga #lyn #mastersoftheuniverse #younghero #marlena #undead #zombie #skeleton #skeletonwarriors #triumph #triumphofevil #victory #snakemountain #eternia #grayskull #powerofgrayskull #swordofpower #he_man

9.9

Orko was baffled; he looked again at the Sword – and shook his head.
“Now thus: now thus! I just don’t understand!”

It had led him resolutely in one direction, towing him along in its eagerness to return to the hand of its wielder. They had flown across the moonlit waters of the Southern Sea and attained the first of its islands, landing on a silver shore where palms laid shadows on the shining sands. But then, without warning, it had come to a abrupt halt and quested, searching now one way, now another, like the head of a hound at check and seeking a scent. And now it absolutely refused to move at all, but sat there dull and inert in his hand like some ordinary blade. He wondered with foreboding if this was the start of Evil-Lyn’s maleficent power – and if it had confused the Sword’s ability to seek for He-Man.

He looked at it again, and then drew it forth from its sheath and ran his hand slowly along the blade.

Orko was, of course, a Trollan, and it had been his people’s skilled smithcraft and artifice magical which had first forged the steel of this Sword, long ago when the world was younger and there was a different Enemy. And so it had affinity with him, and seemed to welcome his touch and to respond. Intent, he gazed on its beauty, almost forgetting his haste, his frustration in his awed wonder.

He lifted it – and took an experimental swing – which all-but overbalanced him. The Sword of Power: of Power. He could feel that ancient might stir beneath his hand, the latent strength forged deep within the steel. A lambent pale blue light played along its length as he stroked its silk-smooth sheen; he could feel a slight vibration thrum all through it. This blade alone could transform young Prince Adam into a hero with the formidable capabilities of He-Man, the most powerful man in the universe. Its edges tingled with an aura – he could sense it, feel it.

And if it could do that for Adam, then what could it do for him – for Orko? What great works could be accomplished with this splendid, shining steel? – purely in the cause of good, naturally. He looked hard at it, dazzled by the visions which arose to his beguiled mind. If the blade would respond to his own magic – and his own need – then he could storm into Evil-Lyn’s lair and all would flee before him as he rescued He-Man and bore him home in triumph. And why stop there? He-Man was likely to need time to recover from his ordeal – but Orko would be willing to hold onto the Sword awhile and make good use of it. Adam could be spared the need to live in two lives if the Power were wielded by another; there would be no further need for secrecy – why – it would be a positive boon to the boy! And with its great strength allied to his own magic he would be well-nigh invincible. No – he would be invincible – completely so! No longer merely the court conjurer; the object of amusement, of derision no more, but numbered mighty among the great. Even the power he had wielded of old on Trolla would be as nothing by comparison to that which would come to him through this weapon. There was a destiny lay upon it; he could sense it thrilling through his fingers, through every fibre of his body – a destiny which he was called to take up. And then his time would come: even Skeletor would be at long last overthrown as a new Eternian hero arose! Evil could be ended for all time by such a champion – Grayskull would have a new guardian, a master of the art magical as well as a mighty warrior – and all would bow their heads in wonder! It could be done; he, Orko the Wise, Orko the Strong – Orko the Magnificent – THE Orko! – could do it! Would do it! What need of He-Man at all when he – and he alone – would save Eternia! The Sword seemed to agree; its edges flamed dazzlingly bright, it grew heated in his hand as he held it aloft – and his lips framed the words he knew must be spoken.

And then he slowly lowered the blade again – and sheathed its sparkling steel with a shake of his head. No; no – that would never do. Not at all. Such a thing was not for him; he knew, deep-down, that he had not the inner strength to wield it. Nor had he altogether forgotten why he had lost his former power and been exiled to Eternia in the first place; it was an uncomfortable thought – but it was also a lesson best remembered. Besides, it was his duty: he had pledged himself to guard the boy, from that very first day in the Tar Swamps, amid the raging cosmic storm which had brought him to this world; brought him here to begin his penance, to earn back in humility that which he had forfeited through folly. He must not fall prey to such again. But, most of all it was a simple matter of loyalty, of trust – and of love. At some stage, unnoticed, duty had turned to affection – and thence to devotion – and that outweighed all else. For this was He-Man’s sword – Adam’s sword – and it must go back to him, his friend, who trusted him. And who was in dire trouble and needed him to come to the rescue. And that was all there was to it. And – goodness – he was here to do just that – not to daydream! Whatever had got into him that he was wasting precious time like this – –?

And suddenly the Sword twitched in his grasp – and its sheathed tip arose and quivered – pointing – pointing back to the north!

Orko, all lure of temptation at once forgotten, looked hard, then gave it a shake. It did not respond, so he shook it again, harder – but the blade remained resolutely indicating northward – the direction whence they had come.

“Oh, you silly piece of ironmongery! Make your mind up, won’t you?”

But the Sword plainly had made up its mind – and began to pull; began to pull so hard that he could barely retain his grip on the haft.

“But that can’t be right – can it? Is this yet another attempt to thwart this quest? And after I’ve been so long on my way, too? North? No – how can it be back that way? Unless – well – unless they are moving him again – or else they gone and – Oh, but no – they wouldn’t – would they? Please don’t let it be that! Not Adam – But, no – no; the Sorceress said he was still alive – and he is; he is alive! I can almost feel his presence now. And you can, too, can’t you?”

The Sword did not answer; or maybe it did, for it continued to quest, to pull with renewed urgency.

“Oh, very well, then! Back northward we go. But we aren’t going to travel all that distance like this; no we aren’t! Now you just bide there patient a moment while I recall the exact words to that spell –”

But it wasn’t going to be patient, either. Within moments Orko was streaming along behind its eager pull, desperately trying to hold his hat in place. It towed him up through the air at terrifying speed, levelling out at high altitude and hurtling onward to its appointed end; to the hand of the man who was its wielder.

******

9.10

Man-at-Arms viewed their objective through the lenses once more and nodded his thanks to Mekanek for his careful forward reconnaissance. He then turned back to his fellows, the Heroic Warriors and the officers from among all the men of Eternos who had elected to come with him on this mission. The thin wind blew darkly across the Perpetual Plain, but threads of molten light gleamed baleful ahead where the carven head of the snake poured forth the spew of the mountain onto the broken land below. The silent, watchful faces ringed him about – and not a word was spoken, but there were a few quiet smiles.

He drew a deep breath. “Well – here we are; before Snake Mountain – and far from our homes. You all know why we are here – and what we must do. Soon we shall go in there and execute our plan as best we may. It will not be easy; they are sure to know that we are coming and they will be ready and waiting for us. So I shall not attempt to hide from any of you my doubts as to how heavy our losses are likely to be; they are many to our few and Skeletor and his henchmen will be there in force to lead his legions – we shall face both swords and sorcery. But I know that there is not a man here who is not a volunteer for this venture – and I know that none of you will hang back in the coming fight. There are only brave men here. And it is in a bid to rescue another such that we have come. I mean to have He-Man safe away from this place and out of Skeletor’s clutches. You all know why he is held captive – and of the willing self-sacrifice that he made.” His eyes roved the circle of intent faces. “Nor was it the first time that he has done so. I am proud to be bringing aid to him at last – as I am proud to lead you and your men. Whatever befall in this coming battle, let no man forget that pride – nor yet that this day we fight for the right, for He-Man – and for Eternia!”

“For Eternia,” they echoed, fists raised in salute. “For Eternia and for He-Man!”

“Then, one final time –”

“What – another final time, ’Arms?” queried Fisto with a grin; Duncan smiled wryly in response and nodded.

“Just to make sure that we’ve all understood the plan, brother – even you. So; Stratos and his fliers are already lying concealed on the upper slopes, awaiting their chance to strike; that goes also for Buzz-Off and his people. They will make their entry as we approach. Of course, we can’t be sure where He-Man is being held – but my guess is that Skeletor will not have him down in a cell; more likely he’ll be on open show for our benefit. Keep your heads, though, whatever you see in there; they will be trying to provoke us into rash and hasty action and we must not fall prey to such a ploy. Our winged allies can use their greater speed and mobility to better effect than we – but they will have need of covering fire.”

“And they’ll get it, too,” nodded Captain Rios, whose nickname was ‘Blast’.

“Now, don’t let your men waste their power charges in shooting at Skeletor himself; save it for more vulnerable targets. More than that I cannot plan; we shall have to adapt according to what we find – but keep together as best you can – and keep your eyes and ears wide open.” He turned to the youngest man present. “You, Lieutenant Andros, will take a squad of your guardsmen and infiltrate the dungeons; as I say, I doubt you’ll find He-Man there – but it’s just possible. And – Andros – it is also very possible that Prince Adam is in there somewhere, so keep an eye out for him too.”

“Yessir!” answered the tall young officer solemnly; and then his face split into a wide grin. “I’ll very gladly find the Prince; I just really hope that he isn’t still carrying that stunner –”

“Be off with you – and good luck!” He shook his head, concealing a smile somewhere within his moustache. And then he turned to the rest. “Well; to your places, gentlemen – and very best of good fortune to you all!”

When they were all gone to ready their men, Duncan turned at last to his daughter. She stood hands on hips and gave her head a brisk shake, sending her hair-tail flying. Her impatient foot stirred the ash of the plain.

“Every man a volunteer, huh? Only brave men here? Every man knowing what he fights for –” And then suddenly she smiled, a touch crookedly. “I take it you mean women too, then?”

Duncan gave her a preoccupied, affectionate look. “Yes; I think that you can take it that I do. Girls, anyway. And one in particular.”

“Good. Because He-Man is in there – and Adam too, just as my vision showed me.”

“You can tell – even from here?”

“Yes; I can. They’re there. I’m absolutely sure of it. And so we – all of us – will go in and get them out. Both of them!”

“Elders willing we shall, child; Elders willing we shall. But, for all that, mind that you keep close to me and to your uncle when the battle begins – and that you pick no fights with the enemy’s warriors. Do I have your word on that?”

She gave him a mutinous green glare, opened her mouth – and then shut it again and reluctantly nodded in obedience. It wasn’t the season for arguments. That time was past.

“Very well.” Duncan drew a deep breath and nodded. “Then let us be moving; it is time.”

**********

9.11

“Be welcome, He-Man, to Snake Mountain! Be welcome indeed! Not your first visit, I know – but most certainly your last.” Skeletor bowed low with an ironic, taunting flourish of triumph; his robes fell about him flame-tinged in the firelight – but still as black as night.

From his adversary, brought now before him, came no flicker of reaction. Weary he looked and soiled and shaken – but at least the dim light in his eyes was his own again and no longer in thralldom to sorcery and lust. The shackles he had worn so long – and so briefly been without – again hung heavy from his limbs; though not, perhaps, as heavy as the abject air of defeat and of shame.

They stood in a high place, visible to all eyes from the floor of the great cavern far below, lit by the lurid glow of the flame that rose always through the cone of the hollow mountain. There the topmost tier, narrowest of all those many galleries and buttresses, hung as a flying bridge of stone carved from the very rock of the mountain itself; high it spanned the gorge of the open mouth of the stylized snake’s head which lent that ill-omened place its name. Lava ran across it, beneath it; molten magma streams rising from deep below ground were cunningly channelled to issue from the mouth of the serpent, pouring forth between great fangs of stone, falling in fire far to the burning plain below. And against this dramatic backdrop they stood, limned as if in a living blaze of flame: and every eye was upon them.

The Lord of Chaos had, as ever, set his stage, his scene, with a fine attention to detail.

Now he gave an imperious gesture – and the guards who flanked the chained captive at once laid fleshless hands upon him and sent him sprawling to the stones at Skeletor’s feet. Slowly, wearily, he began to rise – but was forced back down to his knees and there held.

And the Dark One raised wide his black-gowned arms before the assembled forces massed beneath.

“Behold!” he cried. “The Champion of Grayskull – my prisoner!”

And they too cried out in triumph to see their dark master parade his trophy in such ceremonious pomp: the feared arch-antagonist, the young hero who had so often thwarted their rise, now humbled and led near naked, kneeling, a powerless captive in chains. Their roar rang all through the mountain – an elemental and savage yawp of triumph – and the blond head fell before it.

And Skeletor, staff held in hand, gave a grotesque and courtly bow in acknowledgement – and again all that hollow mountain rang with the cheers of the hosts of darkness. The brandishing of firelit weaponry below was like the shift of a turbulent tide as they gloried in He-Man’s humiliation – and the echoes washed about the walls of that vast space, returning sweet to the Dark One’s ears.

“Our time of waiting is done!” he cried now aloud. “Long it has been – far, far too long – but now it is over! The last impediment to my mastery over all things kneels broken at my feet. The Dark is rising: soon now, my subjects – soon!”

And he turned again to his captive, his greatest rival in all Eternia brought low at last before him; and he revelled in his victory.

“Ah, but you disappoint me sorely, He-Man. What – no spark of life, no surge of pointless pride? I had thought that you would give me fine and fierce defiance.” He leaned low and brought his nightmare face close to that of his prisoner. “I expected that you would threaten me, promise my overthrow – show me your high mettle and your proud scorn.” His thin and taloned hand reached out and tilted the other’s chin upward to look close into his face. The blue eyes looked back at him dully, without expression. “But I see that you no longer have the spirit for it – that, at long last, you have finally come to recognize the futility of resisting my indomitable will. And so we reach endgame. For this was always going to be the outcome of our struggle: you, here, kneeling before my unmatched majesty – bound in chains, broken in spirit – utterly defeated. Your doom was as inevitable as the passage of time, your failure as inescapable as the fall of night itself. Oh, you had some strength, some skill, that I grant you – but not the will to use them, to wield great might in the only way it can ever be effective: ruthlessly and altogether without pity. You were ever too feeble a vessel to contain so prodigious a power; a warrior bearing a blade which you had not the hardihood to use. A sword – even one such as yours – is only as strong as the will of its wielder: and you were weak. Your absurd refusal to shed blood has ever been your bane. And that is why you are here; helpless, humbled – and at my mercy.” He released the captive’s head and shook his own, as if afflicted with the touch of human sorrow at such tragic frailty.

But He-Man did not react at all; he seemed almost listless and yawned in the sullen light of the fires.

“None can aid you now; you are past all hope. For where is your Sorceress? Where is she? She has disowned and abandoned you – and even if she had not, she would be as powerless as her champion. As for Evil-Lyn, loyalty lies not in her; she too has deserted you; you are alone. And so where now is your defiance; where now your strength, your proud spirit? Gone, gone – all are gone.”

A misshapen hand reached out and, with an oddly tender gesture, smoothed its way slowly across the width of the broad, bowed shoulders.

“And was this truly the best your fabled ‘Elders’ could do? Was it? How could they possibly deem one such as you worthy of the Power? And how lamentably ill a choice that has proved. A rash, stubborn boy without the will to use the strength they had conferred on him, without the wit to see the futility of opposing my might – and now reduced to this: stripped, shamed – chained? Why, your very presence here today in all your defeated humiliation is living proof that their supposed reputation for great wisdom is utterly unfounded. Or is it not, rather, that they do not even exist? That these supposed ‘Elders’ are but pretty tales; that you have followed naught but vain imaginings – and that your willing, deluded service has brought you but to this?”

The touch of the taloned hand upon his head was gentle, consoling – but the kneeling captive tensed as the fingers twined into the locks of his hair and there lingered; and a shiver ran through his skin.

“So summon the Power to save you,” said Skeletor softly. “Call upon it; have it come down and deliver you, set you free, scatter your enemies as it has so oft-times before. Surely Grayskull will not desert its champion? Call upon it, therefore – and be avenged.” The insinuating voice paused as if in anticipation; he lifted an expectant hand – and then came a chuckle of cold malice. “But you cannot, can you? You dare not. And why?” He leaned his cowled head close and whispered into his captive’s ear. “Because you know that it will not come! Because you have forfeited all right to its succour; because you have betrayed it by your weakness and your unbridled lust – and are no longer fit to be its champion!” His voice was sibilant, penetrating and a spasm shook the passive young face as the prisoner acknowledged perforce the goading words. “A hero so upright of purpose, so noble of spirit – so pure of heart! And now – so shamefully sullied – –” The Dark One shook his cowled head. “What a fall was here: I trow Eternia’s annals can show forth none to match it – no; nor plumb such degrading depths of ignominy –”

A tear leaked and ran from one blue eye – and then another – and another. And in their fall they wet the chains which bound his wrists, and which were the emblem of his loss.

But Skeletor’s spite was still far from sated. He gave a curt gesture to the guards, who hauled He-Man to his feet and retired, leaving him alone on the arch with his captor.

Slowly Skeletor circled, as does a shark of the seas its hapless prey.

“Such high, high young hopes: such noble aspirations – and now so sadly shattered. All your ardour turned to ash, your lofty purpose plunged into the depths of disaster. And you are, as yet, barely aware of the true magnitude of your failure, of the burden of guilt you must bear. Come, then: come – and let me enlighten you.”

His clawed hand grasped He-Man’s unresisting shoulder and turned him to look out over the multitude assembled in the great cavern – and whose tight-packed ranks obscured the flooring far below. Sable legions of skeleton warriors, great phalanxes of armed slaves, the levies of the Dark Hemisphere mustered up at their master’s command – even the hirelings and misbegotten spawn of evil who had chosen to serve Skeletor – all these lifted grinning faces to see their vanquished foe.

“Behold now my armies, the unmatched muster of my might! Look upon them and know the full bitterness of defeat; look upon them and know despair! Past ready counting they are – and these numbers here assembled make up but a tithe of my powers! Soon now they will conjoin, forming up into one huge and unstoppable host: a host which I shall send against Eternos. And even you, naïve young fool, know enough to be aware that my true strength lies not in armies nor yet in weapons of war, but in the terror which my arts can inspire in even the most stalwart defender. Few will have the hardihood to stand against me when my sendings come among them – and I have other allies too – oh yes! – other allies – whose capacity to instill panic and fear as far surpass my own arts as I surpass you! Men will fall upon their faces and crawl like beasts in blind terror at their coming: any who dare to stand will be cut down. The forces of my foes shall wither, shall melt like snow under dragon-fire with dread at the onset: all resistance will be in vain, and swiftly brought to a most bloody end. My armies will lay waste the land for leagues on every side leaving naught but bodies and the stench of flame. Opposition will bring obliteration. Valley and hillside shall be the roofless resting place of bones piled bleached beneath the bitter moons. Strong places shall be brought low, towers shall tumble in ruin: nowhere will there be refuge, nor yet shall any defence avail. The folk of every realm shall be but flesh to feed scavengers – and their sundered souls shall sustain the Terrible Ones who hunger ever for more. And though the carrion creatures be glutted, the black-winged starrogs sated, still the march will go on: hosts shall perish; city upon city will be stormed and razed. And I shall make of them a desolation – yea, even the very soil on which they stood shall be salted and lie forever barren; their names shall be forgotten, nor shall any remember that once they stood. Last of them all, Eternos, beset, shall fall and be put to the sack, and its peoples – those who survive – shall be my slaves, dwelling in a land of lamentation. As for the usurper Randor and all his kin, they shall see their city burn, their subjects slaughtered, before I make of them a condign example of what befalls those who dare to defy the Darkness! Their end will be memorable and – being enacted before all eyes – will cow utterly those lesser realms whose absurd independence Randor has not found the backbone to curtail. I, however, shall not repeat his error. My own appointees shall govern them in my name and the former ruling houses of every vassal state shall be my prisoners, held hostage for the continued loyalty – and tribute – of their folk. The least, most futile hint of resistance will earn an unforgettable retribution; after all, my allies from afar will have need of food – –”

He paused, and the shrouded head cocked to one side, considering.

“What – yet more tears? And for whom, pray, are they shed? For yourself, destitute of hope – or for those whom you have betrayed and doomed by your manifest failings? Well; ’tis all one – and you will cry me an ocean before I am done. But hearken now – I have one last thing to relate! Once I have gathered beneath my sway all the realms and peoples of Eternia, then I shall deem the time meet – and shall move at last against Grayskull. My allies – grown yet stronger by gorging the souls of the slain – I shall unleash upon the place and its lorn defender. But as for my Lady, why, she shall be kept alive to be sport for me once the castle falls; there are matters we shall need to discuss; she will have much to tell me. And then my time will have come: I shall at long last walk in through the broken gateway where never yet foe trod – and take possession. All will then be mine: Eternos, all Eternia, Grayskull – and – yes – all that it holds! Its secrets shall be stripped away, all it contains be laid open to me. The Power will be mine at last. And that will be but the beginning; for what is one castle, one small realm, one world to set against the Universe entire –? I shall offer up a glory of destruction to the Darkness and it will reward me, will grant me dominion over all things: over all creation, all life – even over the Light itself: and when the last of the stars is put out, its rule will be illimitable – eternal – ever without end – –”

His voice had fallen away almost to an awed whisper – and now he turned again to his captive and leaned close to speak.

“All this shall be: all – even as I have spoken – even as the tongue of prophecy foretold. And you – swordless, helpless – broken – can do naught to prevent it; naught at all. Your failure is absolute –”

He paused to allow the dread import of his words to penetrate.

“And final.”

The broad shoulders shook; the blond head bowed beneath the crushing weight of its burden – and tears ran like raindrops as the lipless mouth murmured in its ear.

“So tell me, He-Man: who now has the Power – –?”

Satisfied at last to see such inconsolable grief, Skeletor stepped back and leaned upon his staff.

“Well; having lost all purpose in your life, no doubt you are eager to know what form my vengeance will take: it is time for you to learn your fate. For I have long awaited, long planned this day, He-Man: the day when you were brought bound before me, to do with as I will.” Again he paused for effect; the quiet all about was eerie; flame alone moved, flickering restlessly over the silent stones as the Dark One delivered his verdict.

“I had, after much careful deliberation, selected the means of your end as having you clamped down on the Enervator, that I might enjoy to the full your desperate – but increasingly feeble – struggles as it slowly, steadily drained away your power. Spread upon its slab you would die gradually, but in unspeakable torment, as your very life-force was leeched from you drop by agonized drop. Your youth, your strength – your soul itself – would be sucked from you leaving naught but pain. Hour after hour it would last, your screams growing hoarse and turning at last to sobs as you weakened, sliding slowly – so slowly – yet inexorably into the iron grip of death. And all the long and anguished while you would suffer the added torture of knowing that your power, your strength would come to me – and that Grayskull – and all Eternia – would soon be mine.” His claw-like hand reached out and battened itself firmly on the captive’s unresisting brow and held there, as if reading something by feel. “But now, alas, it is as I suspected: Evil-Lyn has done her work all too well. You are already far too weakened to withstand the Enervator and I fear that it would be over with you much, much too soon to provide me adequate amusement. And what little power you have left is barely worth the draining.” He withdrew the taloned hand and shook his grinning head within its cowl. “A pity, of course: I had promised it to myself as a reward for my great and abiding patience. But the Power of Grayskull will soon be mine in any case – and be assured that I am not without all manner of intriguing alternatives by which I may be rid of you at last. And still, as you long for death, you will have the bitter knowledge that, with you gone, I shall sweep all opposition aside. ALL!”

He turned and languidly acknowledged the adulation of his assembled forces filling the surrounding galleries and the wide cavern floor far below.

“But my pleasure – and your pain – must wait a little longer. For first we have a pressing matter to attend to; one we wait upon even as I speak. After all, what need have we to stir hence when our enemies will so obligingly come to us? Yes, He-Man; your friends are on their way here to rescue you – as they so touchingly think. But we know better, you and I, do we not? Their misguided loyalty is futile, their pitiful valour without hope: they will fail – even as you have failed them. And their annihilation will be on your head – along with so much else. And so I shall set you where you may best watch their overthrow – and my victory!”

His prisoner said no word – unless the almost apathetic look on his face, in his lustreless eyes, were answer enough.

“And when it is done, I shall not slay you, no – though you will beg for me to do so time and again before it is o’er. Yet, even though I shall indeed bring you to bale, I will not take your life. But I shall change you; little by little, in both body and mind; here an alteration, there an adjustment until I am satisfied with my new – creation. Yes, He-Man; you will indeed be changed, without and within. But rest assured that you will be left with mind enough to know what you have become, and why all shun you and avert their eyes – and why the children scream. And then: why, then – I shall let you go!”

He savoured deep of his triumph, the way in which his enemy hung his head, the bowed shoulders, the aura of utter defeat and of shame. And he was barely even begun with his long-denied vengeance on this man, the only mortal on Eternia who could challenge him.

Tri-Klops now came hastening along the narrowness of the flying buttress and bowed low. “My lord, they come!”

“Excellent! And is all made ready? Our defences prepared, our array drawn-up? Very well, then; give out my order: let it be so. All but for one last delightful detail.” He summoned Trap Jaw and Beastman forward and gestured to his silent prisoner. “He must not miss this: indeed he must have the best view of all; and they, of course, should surely see their shame-stained champion in all his vanquished helplessness.”

He swept wide his arm and pointed aloft with his staff. “Put him up!”

Description

Final confrontation at the fiery heart of Snake Mountain Previous chapter: fav.me/dc5rxco

#adventure #captured #he #hero #heroism #man #skeletor #slave #trapjaw #triklops #eternos #captivehero #adam #duncan #eternia #evillyn #fantasy #goodvsevil #grayskull #heman #hostage #humiliation #magic #motu #orko #power #princeadam #prisoner #sorceress #sorcery #superhero #swordandsorcery #teela #torture #hemanmastersoftheuniverse #captiveprince #motumastersoftheuniverse #powerofgrayskull #motumasters #princeadamofeternia #musclor #heman #he_man #motumovie #maitresdelunivers #captiveprince #MAA #amosdeluniverso #marlena #shera #she_ra #randor #keldor #loincloth #chained #hemanskeletor #motumovie #princeadamofeternia #manatarms #domminatorideluniverso #tanga #lyn #mastersoftheuniverse #younghero #marlena #undead #zombie #skeleton #skeletonwarriors #triumph #triumphofevil #victory #snakemountain #eternia #grayskull #powerofgrayskull #swordofpower #he_man

9.9

Orko was baffled; he looked again at the Sword – and shook his head.
“Now thus: now thus! I just don’t understand!”

It had led him resolutely in one direction, towing him along in its eagerness to return to the hand of its wielder. They had flown across the moonlit waters of the Southern Sea and attained the first of its islands, landing on a silver shore where palms laid shadows on the shining sands. But then, without warning, it had come to a abrupt halt and quested, searching now one way, now another, like the head of a hound at check and seeking a scent. And now it absolutely refused to move at all, but sat there dull and inert in his hand like some ordinary blade. He wondered with foreboding if this was the start of Evil-Lyn’s maleficent power – and if it had confused the Sword’s ability to seek for He-Man.

He looked at it again, and then drew it forth from its sheath and ran his hand slowly along the blade.

Orko was, of course, a Trollan, and it had been his people’s skilled smithcraft and artifice magical which had first forged the steel of this Sword, long ago when the world was younger and there was a different Enemy. And so it had affinity with him, and seemed to welcome his touch and to respond. Intent, he gazed on its beauty, almost forgetting his haste, his frustration in his awed wonder.

He lifted it – and took an experimental swing – which all-but overbalanced him. The Sword of Power: of Power. He could feel that ancient might stir beneath his hand, the latent strength forged deep within the steel. A lambent pale blue light played along its length as he stroked its silk-smooth sheen; he could feel a slight vibration thrum all through it. This blade alone could transform young Prince Adam into a hero with the formidable capabilities of He-Man, the most powerful man in the universe. Its edges tingled with an aura – he could sense it, feel it.

And if it could do that for Adam, then what could it do for him – for Orko? What great works could be accomplished with this splendid, shining steel? – purely in the cause of good, naturally. He looked hard at it, dazzled by the visions which arose to his beguiled mind. If the blade would respond to his own magic – and his own need – then he could storm into Evil-Lyn’s lair and all would flee before him as he rescued He-Man and bore him home in triumph. And why stop there? He-Man was likely to need time to recover from his ordeal – but Orko would be willing to hold onto the Sword awhile and make good use of it. Adam could be spared the need to live in two lives if the Power were wielded by another; there would be no further need for secrecy – why – it would be a positive boon to the boy! And with its great strength allied to his own magic he would be well-nigh invincible. No – he would be invincible – completely so! No longer merely the court conjurer; the object of amusement, of derision no more, but numbered mighty among the great. Even the power he had wielded of old on Trolla would be as nothing by comparison to that which would come to him through this weapon. There was a destiny lay upon it; he could sense it thrilling through his fingers, through every fibre of his body – a destiny which he was called to take up. And then his time would come: even Skeletor would be at long last overthrown as a new Eternian hero arose! Evil could be ended for all time by such a champion – Grayskull would have a new guardian, a master of the art magical as well as a mighty warrior – and all would bow their heads in wonder! It could be done; he, Orko the Wise, Orko the Strong – Orko the Magnificent – THE Orko! – could do it! Would do it! What need of He-Man at all when he – and he alone – would save Eternia! The Sword seemed to agree; its edges flamed dazzlingly bright, it grew heated in his hand as he held it aloft – and his lips framed the words he knew must be spoken.

And then he slowly lowered the blade again – and sheathed its sparkling steel with a shake of his head. No; no – that would never do. Not at all. Such a thing was not for him; he knew, deep-down, that he had not the inner strength to wield it. Nor had he altogether forgotten why he had lost his former power and been exiled to Eternia in the first place; it was an uncomfortable thought – but it was also a lesson best remembered. Besides, it was his duty: he had pledged himself to guard the boy, from that very first day in the Tar Swamps, amid the raging cosmic storm which had brought him to this world; brought him here to begin his penance, to earn back in humility that which he had forfeited through folly. He must not fall prey to such again. But, most of all it was a simple matter of loyalty, of trust – and of love. At some stage, unnoticed, duty had turned to affection – and thence to devotion – and that outweighed all else. For this was He-Man’s sword – Adam’s sword – and it must go back to him, his friend, who trusted him. And who was in dire trouble and needed him to come to the rescue. And that was all there was to it. And – goodness – he was here to do just that – not to daydream! Whatever had got into him that he was wasting precious time like this – –?

And suddenly the Sword twitched in his grasp – and its sheathed tip arose and quivered – pointing – pointing back to the north!

Orko, all lure of temptation at once forgotten, looked hard, then gave it a shake. It did not respond, so he shook it again, harder – but the blade remained resolutely indicating northward – the direction whence they had come.

“Oh, you silly piece of ironmongery! Make your mind up, won’t you?”

But the Sword plainly had made up its mind – and began to pull; began to pull so hard that he could barely retain his grip on the haft.

“But that can’t be right – can it? Is this yet another attempt to thwart this quest? And after I’ve been so long on my way, too? North? No – how can it be back that way? Unless – well – unless they are moving him again – or else they gone and – Oh, but no – they wouldn’t – would they? Please don’t let it be that! Not Adam – But, no – no; the Sorceress said he was still alive – and he is; he is alive! I can almost feel his presence now. And you can, too, can’t you?”

The Sword did not answer; or maybe it did, for it continued to quest, to pull with renewed urgency.

“Oh, very well, then! Back northward we go. But we aren’t going to travel all that distance like this; no we aren’t! Now you just bide there patient a moment while I recall the exact words to that spell –”

But it wasn’t going to be patient, either. Within moments Orko was streaming along behind its eager pull, desperately trying to hold his hat in place. It towed him up through the air at terrifying speed, levelling out at high altitude and hurtling onward to its appointed end; to the hand of the man who was its wielder.

******

9.10

Man-at-Arms viewed their objective through the lenses once more and nodded his thanks to Mekanek for his careful forward reconnaissance. He then turned back to his fellows, the Heroic Warriors and the officers from among all the men of Eternos who had elected to come with him on this mission. The thin wind blew darkly across the Perpetual Plain, but threads of molten light gleamed baleful ahead where the carven head of the snake poured forth the spew of the mountain onto the broken land below. The silent, watchful faces ringed him about – and not a word was spoken, but there were a few quiet smiles.

He drew a deep breath. “Well – here we are; before Snake Mountain – and far from our homes. You all know why we are here – and what we must do. Soon we shall go in there and execute our plan as best we may. It will not be easy; they are sure to know that we are coming and they will be ready and waiting for us. So I shall not attempt to hide from any of you my doubts as to how heavy our losses are likely to be; they are many to our few and Skeletor and his henchmen will be there in force to lead his legions – we shall face both swords and sorcery. But I know that there is not a man here who is not a volunteer for this venture – and I know that none of you will hang back in the coming fight. There are only brave men here. And it is in a bid to rescue another such that we have come. I mean to have He-Man safe away from this place and out of Skeletor’s clutches. You all know why he is held captive – and of the willing self-sacrifice that he made.” His eyes roved the circle of intent faces. “Nor was it the first time that he has done so. I am proud to be bringing aid to him at last – as I am proud to lead you and your men. Whatever befall in this coming battle, let no man forget that pride – nor yet that this day we fight for the right, for He-Man – and for Eternia!”

“For Eternia,” they echoed, fists raised in salute. “For Eternia and for He-Man!”

“Then, one final time –”

“What – another final time, ’Arms?” queried Fisto with a grin; Duncan smiled wryly in response and nodded.

“Just to make sure that we’ve all understood the plan, brother – even you. So; Stratos and his fliers are already lying concealed on the upper slopes, awaiting their chance to strike; that goes also for Buzz-Off and his people. They will make their entry as we approach. Of course, we can’t be sure where He-Man is being held – but my guess is that Skeletor will not have him down in a cell; more likely he’ll be on open show for our benefit. Keep your heads, though, whatever you see in there; they will be trying to provoke us into rash and hasty action and we must not fall prey to such a ploy. Our winged allies can use their greater speed and mobility to better effect than we – but they will have need of covering fire.”

“And they’ll get it, too,” nodded Captain Rios, whose nickname was ‘Blast’.

“Now, don’t let your men waste their power charges in shooting at Skeletor himself; save it for more vulnerable targets. More than that I cannot plan; we shall have to adapt according to what we find – but keep together as best you can – and keep your eyes and ears wide open.” He turned to the youngest man present. “You, Lieutenant Andros, will take a squad of your guardsmen and infiltrate the dungeons; as I say, I doubt you’ll find He-Man there – but it’s just possible. And – Andros – it is also very possible that Prince Adam is in there somewhere, so keep an eye out for him too.”

“Yessir!” answered the tall young officer solemnly; and then his face split into a wide grin. “I’ll very gladly find the Prince; I just really hope that he isn’t still carrying that stunner –”

“Be off with you – and good luck!” He shook his head, concealing a smile somewhere within his moustache. And then he turned to the rest. “Well; to your places, gentlemen – and very best of good fortune to you all!”

When they were all gone to ready their men, Duncan turned at last to his daughter. She stood hands on hips and gave her head a brisk shake, sending her hair-tail flying. Her impatient foot stirred the ash of the plain.

“Every man a volunteer, huh? Only brave men here? Every man knowing what he fights for –” And then suddenly she smiled, a touch crookedly. “I take it you mean women too, then?”

Duncan gave her a preoccupied, affectionate look. “Yes; I think that you can take it that I do. Girls, anyway. And one in particular.”

“Good. Because He-Man is in there – and Adam too, just as my vision showed me.”

“You can tell – even from here?”

“Yes; I can. They’re there. I’m absolutely sure of it. And so we – all of us – will go in and get them out. Both of them!”

“Elders willing we shall, child; Elders willing we shall. But, for all that, mind that you keep close to me and to your uncle when the battle begins – and that you pick no fights with the enemy’s warriors. Do I have your word on that?”

She gave him a mutinous green glare, opened her mouth – and then shut it again and reluctantly nodded in obedience. It wasn’t the season for arguments. That time was past.

“Very well.” Duncan drew a deep breath and nodded. “Then let us be moving; it is time.”

**********

9.11

“Be welcome, He-Man, to Snake Mountain! Be welcome indeed! Not your first visit, I know – but most certainly your last.” Skeletor bowed low with an ironic, taunting flourish of triumph; his robes fell about him flame-tinged in the firelight – but still as black as night.

From his adversary, brought now before him, came no flicker of reaction. Weary he looked and soiled and shaken – but at least the dim light in his eyes was his own again and no longer in thralldom to sorcery and lust. The shackles he had worn so long – and so briefly been without – again hung heavy from his limbs; though not, perhaps, as heavy as the abject air of defeat and of shame.

They stood in a high place, visible to all eyes from the floor of the great cavern far below, lit by the lurid glow of the flame that rose always through the cone of the hollow mountain. There the topmost tier, narrowest of all those many galleries and buttresses, hung as a flying bridge of stone carved from the very rock of the mountain itself; high it spanned the gorge of the open mouth of the stylized snake’s head which lent that ill-omened place its name. Lava ran across it, beneath it; molten magma streams rising from deep below ground were cunningly channelled to issue from the mouth of the serpent, pouring forth between great fangs of stone, falling in fire far to the burning plain below. And against this dramatic backdrop they stood, limned as if in a living blaze of flame: and every eye was upon them.

The Lord of Chaos had, as ever, set his stage, his scene, with a fine attention to detail.

Now he gave an imperious gesture – and the guards who flanked the chained captive at once laid fleshless hands upon him and sent him sprawling to the stones at Skeletor’s feet. Slowly, wearily, he began to rise – but was forced back down to his knees and there held.

And the Dark One raised wide his black-gowned arms before the assembled forces massed beneath.

“Behold!” he cried. “The Champion of Grayskull – my prisoner!”

And they too cried out in triumph to see their dark master parade his trophy in such ceremonious pomp: the feared arch-antagonist, the young hero who had so often thwarted their rise, now humbled and led near naked, kneeling, a powerless captive in chains. Their roar rang all through the mountain – an elemental and savage yawp of triumph – and the blond head fell before it.

And Skeletor, staff held in hand, gave a grotesque and courtly bow in acknowledgement – and again all that hollow mountain rang with the cheers of the hosts of darkness. The brandishing of firelit weaponry below was like the shift of a turbulent tide as they gloried in He-Man’s humiliation – and the echoes washed about the walls of that vast space, returning sweet to the Dark One’s ears.

“Our time of waiting is done!” he cried now aloud. “Long it has been – far, far too long – but now it is over! The last impediment to my mastery over all things kneels broken at my feet. The Dark is rising: soon now, my subjects – soon!”

And he turned again to his captive, his greatest rival in all Eternia brought low at last before him; and he revelled in his victory.

“Ah, but you disappoint me sorely, He-Man. What – no spark of life, no surge of pointless pride? I had thought that you would give me fine and fierce defiance.” He leaned low and brought his nightmare face close to that of his prisoner. “I expected that you would threaten me, promise my overthrow – show me your high mettle and your proud scorn.” His thin and taloned hand reached out and tilted the other’s chin upward to look close into his face. The blue eyes looked back at him dully, without expression. “But I see that you no longer have the spirit for it – that, at long last, you have finally come to recognize the futility of resisting my indomitable will. And so we reach endgame. For this was always going to be the outcome of our struggle: you, here, kneeling before my unmatched majesty – bound in chains, broken in spirit – utterly defeated. Your doom was as inevitable as the passage of time, your failure as inescapable as the fall of night itself. Oh, you had some strength, some skill, that I grant you – but not the will to use them, to wield great might in the only way it can ever be effective: ruthlessly and altogether without pity. You were ever too feeble a vessel to contain so prodigious a power; a warrior bearing a blade which you had not the hardihood to use. A sword – even one such as yours – is only as strong as the will of its wielder: and you were weak. Your absurd refusal to shed blood has ever been your bane. And that is why you are here; helpless, humbled – and at my mercy.” He released the captive’s head and shook his own, as if afflicted with the touch of human sorrow at such tragic frailty.

But He-Man did not react at all; he seemed almost listless and yawned in the sullen light of the fires.

“None can aid you now; you are past all hope. For where is your Sorceress? Where is she? She has disowned and abandoned you – and even if she had not, she would be as powerless as her champion. As for Evil-Lyn, loyalty lies not in her; she too has deserted you; you are alone. And so where now is your defiance; where now your strength, your proud spirit? Gone, gone – all are gone.”

A misshapen hand reached out and, with an oddly tender gesture, smoothed its way slowly across the width of the broad, bowed shoulders.

“And was this truly the best your fabled ‘Elders’ could do? Was it? How could they possibly deem one such as you worthy of the Power? And how lamentably ill a choice that has proved. A rash, stubborn boy without the will to use the strength they had conferred on him, without the wit to see the futility of opposing my might – and now reduced to this: stripped, shamed – chained? Why, your very presence here today in all your defeated humiliation is living proof that their supposed reputation for great wisdom is utterly unfounded. Or is it not, rather, that they do not even exist? That these supposed ‘Elders’ are but pretty tales; that you have followed naught but vain imaginings – and that your willing, deluded service has brought you but to this?”

The touch of the taloned hand upon his head was gentle, consoling – but the kneeling captive tensed as the fingers twined into the locks of his hair and there lingered; and a shiver ran through his skin.

“So summon the Power to save you,” said Skeletor softly. “Call upon it; have it come down and deliver you, set you free, scatter your enemies as it has so oft-times before. Surely Grayskull will not desert its champion? Call upon it, therefore – and be avenged.” The insinuating voice paused as if in anticipation; he lifted an expectant hand – and then came a chuckle of cold malice. “But you cannot, can you? You dare not. And why?” He leaned his cowled head close and whispered into his captive’s ear. “Because you know that it will not come! Because you have forfeited all right to its succour; because you have betrayed it by your weakness and your unbridled lust – and are no longer fit to be its champion!” His voice was sibilant, penetrating and a spasm shook the passive young face as the prisoner acknowledged perforce the goading words. “A hero so upright of purpose, so noble of spirit – so pure of heart! And now – so shamefully sullied – –” The Dark One shook his cowled head. “What a fall was here: I trow Eternia’s annals can show forth none to match it – no; nor plumb such degrading depths of ignominy –”

A tear leaked and ran from one blue eye – and then another – and another. And in their fall they wet the chains which bound his wrists, and which were the emblem of his loss.

But Skeletor’s spite was still far from sated. He gave a curt gesture to the guards, who hauled He-Man to his feet and retired, leaving him alone on the arch with his captor.

Slowly Skeletor circled, as does a shark of the seas its hapless prey.

“Such high, high young hopes: such noble aspirations – and now so sadly shattered. All your ardour turned to ash, your lofty purpose plunged into the depths of disaster. And you are, as yet, barely aware of the true magnitude of your failure, of the burden of guilt you must bear. Come, then: come – and let me enlighten you.”

His clawed hand grasped He-Man’s unresisting shoulder and turned him to look out over the multitude assembled in the great cavern – and whose tight-packed ranks obscured the flooring far below. Sable legions of skeleton warriors, great phalanxes of armed slaves, the levies of the Dark Hemisphere mustered up at their master’s command – even the hirelings and misbegotten spawn of evil who had chosen to serve Skeletor – all these lifted grinning faces to see their vanquished foe.

“Behold now my armies, the unmatched muster of my might! Look upon them and know the full bitterness of defeat; look upon them and know despair! Past ready counting they are – and these numbers here assembled make up but a tithe of my powers! Soon now they will conjoin, forming up into one huge and unstoppable host: a host which I shall send against Eternos. And even you, naïve young fool, know enough to be aware that my true strength lies not in armies nor yet in weapons of war, but in the terror which my arts can inspire in even the most stalwart defender. Few will have the hardihood to stand against me when my sendings come among them – and I have other allies too – oh yes! – other allies – whose capacity to instill panic and fear as far surpass my own arts as I surpass you! Men will fall upon their faces and crawl like beasts in blind terror at their coming: any who dare to stand will be cut down. The forces of my foes shall wither, shall melt like snow under dragon-fire with dread at the onset: all resistance will be in vain, and swiftly brought to a most bloody end. My armies will lay waste the land for leagues on every side leaving naught but bodies and the stench of flame. Opposition will bring obliteration. Valley and hillside shall be the roofless resting place of bones piled bleached beneath the bitter moons. Strong places shall be brought low, towers shall tumble in ruin: nowhere will there be refuge, nor yet shall any defence avail. The folk of every realm shall be but flesh to feed scavengers – and their sundered souls shall sustain the Terrible Ones who hunger ever for more. And though the carrion creatures be glutted, the black-winged starrogs sated, still the march will go on: hosts shall perish; city upon city will be stormed and razed. And I shall make of them a desolation – yea, even the very soil on which they stood shall be salted and lie forever barren; their names shall be forgotten, nor shall any remember that once they stood. Last of them all, Eternos, beset, shall fall and be put to the sack, and its peoples – those who survive – shall be my slaves, dwelling in a land of lamentation. As for the usurper Randor and all his kin, they shall see their city burn, their subjects slaughtered, before I make of them a condign example of what befalls those who dare to defy the Darkness! Their end will be memorable and – being enacted before all eyes – will cow utterly those lesser realms whose absurd independence Randor has not found the backbone to curtail. I, however, shall not repeat his error. My own appointees shall govern them in my name and the former ruling houses of every vassal state shall be my prisoners, held hostage for the continued loyalty – and tribute – of their folk. The least, most futile hint of resistance will earn an unforgettable retribution; after all, my allies from afar will have need of food – –”

He paused, and the shrouded head cocked to one side, considering.

“What – yet more tears? And for whom, pray, are they shed? For yourself, destitute of hope – or for those whom you have betrayed and doomed by your manifest failings? Well; ’tis all one – and you will cry me an ocean before I am done. But hearken now – I have one last thing to relate! Once I have gathered beneath my sway all the realms and peoples of Eternia, then I shall deem the time meet – and shall move at last against Grayskull. My allies – grown yet stronger by gorging the souls of the slain – I shall unleash upon the place and its lorn defender. But as for my Lady, why, she shall be kept alive to be sport for me once the castle falls; there are matters we shall need to discuss; she will have much to tell me. And then my time will have come: I shall at long last walk in through the broken gateway where never yet foe trod – and take possession. All will then be mine: Eternos, all Eternia, Grayskull – and – yes – all that it holds! Its secrets shall be stripped away, all it contains be laid open to me. The Power will be mine at last. And that will be but the beginning; for what is one castle, one small realm, one world to set against the Universe entire –? I shall offer up a glory of destruction to the Darkness and it will reward me, will grant me dominion over all things: over all creation, all life – even over the Light itself: and when the last of the stars is put out, its rule will be illimitable – eternal – ever without end – –”

His voice had fallen away almost to an awed whisper – and now he turned again to his captive and leaned close to speak.

“All this shall be: all – even as I have spoken – even as the tongue of prophecy foretold. And you – swordless, helpless – broken – can do naught to prevent it; naught at all. Your failure is absolute –”

He paused to allow the dread import of his words to penetrate.

“And final.”

The broad shoulders shook; the blond head bowed beneath the crushing weight of its burden – and tears ran like raindrops as the lipless mouth murmured in its ear.

“So tell me, He-Man: who now has the Power – –?”

Satisfied at last to see such inconsolable grief, Skeletor stepped back and leaned upon his staff.

“Well; having lost all purpose in your life, no doubt you are eager to know what form my vengeance will take: it is time for you to learn your fate. For I have long awaited, long planned this day, He-Man: the day when you were brought bound before me, to do with as I will.” Again he paused for effect; the quiet all about was eerie; flame alone moved, flickering restlessly over the silent stones as the Dark One delivered his verdict.

“I had, after much careful deliberation, selected the means of your end as having you clamped down on the Enervator, that I might enjoy to the full your desperate – but increasingly feeble – struggles as it slowly, steadily drained away your power. Spread upon its slab you would die gradually, but in unspeakable torment, as your very life-force was leeched from you drop by agonized drop. Your youth, your strength – your soul itself – would be sucked from you leaving naught but pain. Hour after hour it would last, your screams growing hoarse and turning at last to sobs as you weakened, sliding slowly – so slowly – yet inexorably into the iron grip of death. And all the long and anguished while you would suffer the added torture of knowing that your power, your strength would come to me – and that Grayskull – and all Eternia – would soon be mine.” His claw-like hand reached out and battened itself firmly on the captive’s unresisting brow and held there, as if reading something by feel. “But now, alas, it is as I suspected: Evil-Lyn has done her work all too well. You are already far too weakened to withstand the Enervator and I fear that it would be over with you much, much too soon to provide me adequate amusement. And what little power you have left is barely worth the draining.” He withdrew the taloned hand and shook his grinning head within its cowl. “A pity, of course: I had promised it to myself as a reward for my great and abiding patience. But the Power of Grayskull will soon be mine in any case – and be assured that I am not without all manner of intriguing alternatives by which I may be rid of you at last. And still, as you long for death, you will have the bitter knowledge that, with you gone, I shall sweep all opposition aside. ALL!”

He turned and languidly acknowledged the adulation of his assembled forces filling the surrounding galleries and the wide cavern floor far below.

“But my pleasure – and your pain – must wait a little longer. For first we have a pressing matter to attend to; one we wait upon even as I speak. After all, what need have we to stir hence when our enemies will so obligingly come to us? Yes, He-Man; your friends are on their way here to rescue you – as they so touchingly think. But we know better, you and I, do we not? Their misguided loyalty is futile, their pitiful valour without hope: they will fail – even as you have failed them. And their annihilation will be on your head – along with so much else. And so I shall set you where you may best watch their overthrow – and my victory!”

His prisoner said no word – unless the almost apathetic look on his face, in his lustreless eyes, were answer enough.

“And when it is done, I shall not slay you, no – though you will beg for me to do so time and again before it is o’er. Yet, even though I shall indeed bring you to bale, I will not take your life. But I shall change you; little by little, in both body and mind; here an alteration, there an adjustment until I am satisfied with my new – creation. Yes, He-Man; you will indeed be changed, without and within. But rest assured that you will be left with mind enough to know what you have become, and why all shun you and avert their eyes – and why the children scream. And then: why, then – I shall let you go!”

He savoured deep of his triumph, the way in which his enemy hung his head, the bowed shoulders, the aura of utter defeat and of shame. And he was barely even begun with his long-denied vengeance on this man, the only mortal on Eternia who could challenge him.

Tri-Klops now came hastening along the narrowness of the flying buttress and bowed low. “My lord, they come!”

“Excellent! And is all made ready? Our defences prepared, our array drawn-up? Very well, then; give out my order: let it be so. All but for one last delightful detail.” He summoned Trap Jaw and Beastman forward and gestured to his silent prisoner. “He must not miss this: indeed he must have the best view of all; and they, of course, should surely see their shame-stained champion in all his vanquished helplessness.”

He swept wide his arm and pointed aloft with his staff. “Put him up!”