The Sands of Rhun: A Middle Earth Story(Book 2)

(Author's Cut) The Cult of the Moon NEW!!!

"You'll get nothing from me!" Brand spat as the Kataphrakt slammed a gauntleted fist into his gut. Pain wracked through his body as what was most likely the thousandth strike made contact with his body, forcing a hiss to escape the Rohirrim's lips. He licked the blood from the corner of his mouth, raising his head just enough to give his tormenter a defiant smile.

"You'll get nothing from me," he spat, forcing the Kataphract to take a step back to avoid the bloody saliva. It had been hours, but so far the burly bodyguard of Khanar has been unable to extract any information about Rukil's whereabouts. The chair Brand was strapped to was old, and with each strike it bowed and creaked precariously. Hopefully, Brand thought, he could hold out for just a little longer...

Bright light suddenly flooded the room as the heavy iron door opened with an ominous creak. A figure stood there, though it was impossible to decipher who it might be through the blinding torchlight.

"Leave us," a soft voice said. The Kataphract flinched at it, backing away until he too had faded into the light. The figure that replaced him was slender, and were it not for the voice that had spoken seconds earlier Brand would've assumed it was a woman. As the door closed behind the strange newcomer, Brand was able to make out more of his features.

He was clad in garments of deep purple, the cloth tightly bound around lithe arms and long legs that seemed more like those of a dancer than a warrior. Subdued bracers of blackened leather wrapped around his forearms and matching greaves covered his shins, light pieces that were designed more for agility than protection.

The most striking feature, however, was the golden mask he wore. Fashioned to look like an expressionless face, it hid every feature and left nothing but cold black eyeholes staring back at Brand. A crescent moon was engraved into the forehead, a symbol that filled the young soldier with fear. It was the symbol of the Order of the Moon.

"We've been told you haven't spoken," the cultist purred, stalking ever closer to the seated warrior. "We are giving you a final chance to volunteer what knowledge you have willingly. After that, we will resort to other methods that, we assure you, will be far less pleasant than those of our colleague."

Brand raised his chin, daring this unsettling man to challenge him. "I'll tell you what I told him. I know nothing, but if I did I would remain silent until the sun swallows the world and the heavens collapse into the sea."

The cultist's head tilted slightly, a disconcerting, unnatural motion that sent a shiver down Brand's spine. "We admit, we were hoping you'd say that. We rarely get a chance to practice our art..." he took an abrupt, jolting slide of a step forward, unbuckling his left brace as he did. Almost immediately a serpentine head shot out of his sleeve, its forked tongue tasting the air in rapid motions. Though most of its body was as black as the night, two bright purple stripes ran down its back like flames, coming together just above its scarlet eyes.

"This is a soul serpent, the elusive slet'dutai of the dunes. Its venom will form a link between you and us, and everything you've ever known will be ours."

"You're mad," Brand exclaimed, tugging with no avail at his restraints. "You'll die from its bite too!"

A sound that could only be described as the gnashing of teeth came from under the golden mask. "Oh but of course, my dear. We count on it."

At this two more masked men entered the cell, identical to their companion in every way. Each held a staff that was fashioned in the likeness of a snake, a crescent moon grasped between its fangs. Eyes of amethyst began to glow, and Brand could hear quiet incantations emanating from under the stoic masks. As the gemstones grew brighter, the incantations became louder, evil chants in a language long forgotten to the tongues of men. The serpent, rising up from the arm of its master, began to weave to and fro in time with the chants, its violet stripes glowing with the staffs. Brand shrunk away as the snake drew closer, its fangs dripping with glowing venom.

Suddenly, as the chanting reached a fever pitch, the snake lashed out, striking its bearer in a shocking turn of events. The cultist let out a screeching laugh, collapsing to his knees as the venom claimed him. As he fell the rest of the way to the cold pavestones, his mask fell free, rolling to the corner of the room.

What it revealed shook Brand to the core.

Underneath the mask was his own face.

His eyes widened in horror as one of the remaining cultists pried the serpent from his dead comrade, moving the writhing beast towards him. The cultist dropped it to the ground, rapidly stepping out of range of its roving head.

It rose up slowly, its keyhole-shaped eyes locking with his own. The chanting was now at a frenetic level, and the snake rose higher and higher until its angular head was level with his own. He now realized just how large this creature was; it was now taller than he, and a substantial portion of the scaly beast still lie coiled up on the ground.

As it drew closer, a voice entered his mind, calling him, coaxing him. It did not seem to come from the serpent, though. Instead, the voice was that of the dead cultist, and it even seemed to be emanating from his lifeless corpse.

At this, a primal fear entered his mind unlike anything he had ever experienced. His limbs grew numb and he had a sinking feeling that even if the cultist had cut his bonds that very moment, he would've been rooted to the ground.

The serpent reared back, lunging forward as the cultists slammed their staffs on the hard stone floor. Brand let out a sharp scream that echoed through the prison, the last vestiges of his life fading into silence in the dark prison.

1/31/2021 This was a scene that I never published, since it doesn't necessarily add much to the main story. It does, however, reveal a little more about the Order of the Moon, a group that I'm hoping to feature more heavily in future stories. I had also, over time, received a fair share of questioning about Brand's fate, so here it is in all of its grisly glory! Enjoy!