Molock's Wand

BARRY E WOODHAM

Molock’s Wand

A Daughter's Revenge Wields a Deadly Weapon

Copyright © 2013 by Barry Woodham

Smashwords Edition

All Rights Reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage or retrieval system, without the permission in writing from the copyright holder.

The right of Barry Woodham to be identified as the editor/author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988 sections 77 and 78.

The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters and incidents of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.

Book jacket design Ray Lipscombe Printed in England

Mereo is an imprint of Memoirs Publishing

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ISBN: 978-1-86151-005-1

CONTENTS

About the Author

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

Epilogue

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Barry Woodham was born in 1943 and has lived in Swindon, Wiltshire in England all of his life. He is married with three sons all in their forties and lives happily in retirement with his wife Janet! (48 good years & more to come!)

He spent his working life as a design engineer/draughtsman and worked on the nuclear fusion project for thirteen years. Finding himself with nothing to read one lunch-time, he began to write the saga of the Gnathe and the Genesis Project. The thought occurred to him that any life form evolved to live in this world would not be able to cope with the micro-organisms of another eco-system on an alien planet. After many of his colleagues began to read the chapters as quickly as he could finish them he continued on and finished the first book.

The alien Gnathe are instinctive genetic engineers and alter living creatures to be their tools by the use of their brooding pouches controlled by the third sex. This first book is set millions of years after the sun has entered its red giant stage and is set on a vastly altered Jupiter. Humanity and intelligent Pan-chimpanzees are recreated by four Guardians made of nanotechnology sent towards the stars from the dying Earth, to bring back mankind. One ship is stuck in the Kuiper Belt until it begins to fall towards the new sun and the crew are activated.

He was able to take early retirement through a legacy and continued to write the next book following on from Genesis 2, called The Genesis Debt. These have both been self-published on Amazon some years ago.

Recently he decided to put all 15 years-worth of writing in the hands of a new publisher and spend some of his son’s inheritance!

While writing Weapon he decided to link all the books together as ‘The Genesis Project’ and write all the books into a series. He is now written a forth; - ‘The Genesis Search’ set hundreds of thousands of years after the events that occurred in Weapon. This part of the saga concerns the deliberate collision of the Andromeda Galaxy with ours in the distant future. What kind of entity could cause this to happen and why? This book attempts to settle those questions and concerns building a hunter/killer group from the ones who defeated the ‘Goss’ in Book Three by going back in time to remove their DNA and clone them, restoring their stored minds into young healthy bodies. At the same time whole solar systems are being rebuilt and moved by wormhole technology to the other side of our galaxy to be launched as a globular cluster towards the Greater Magellanic Clouds and safety.

Whilst writing this forth book the idea came to be, that the group of mixed human and aliens would find themselves having to deal with the abandoned machine intelligence of Von-Neumann probes left behind by the events produced by the ‘Harvester’ and this would be worth considering as the fifth Book;– Genesis 3, A New Beginning. He then considered what would happen after this universe runs down and how to build a new one to take its place!

The Elf War followed and by so many asking if he could go back to the Elf World, he did and Molock’s Wand was the result.

I hope that you will enjoy reading these books as much as all the others and as much as I have enjoyed writing them!

Barry.E.Woodham.

Science Fiction Author.

[email protected]

The Genesis Project.

Book 1 - Genesis 2

Book 2 - The Genesis Debt

Book 3 – Genesis Weapon

Book 4 - The Genesis Search.

Book 5 - Genesis 3 ; - A New Beginning

The Elf-war & Molock’s Wand.

Tales of the Ferryman can be read on his blog;

http://sci-fiauthor.blogspot.co.uk

CHAPTER ONE

Over the centuries I had grown used to the voices in my mind. I am now the High King of the Elven Kingdom that straddles two worlds. My name is Peterkin, and I taught my people to kill Dark Elves, known as the Dokka’lfar. If I had not they would have destroyed everything that we stood for. My people were pacifists and abhorred violence of all kinds. This reluctance to defend themselves had almost destroyed them.

A chance mutation many thousands of years ago had produced the first wingless, Dark Elf, called Molock. When he became mature his mental powers outstripped those of his parents and he murdered his father and raped his mother to produce others of his kind. He then ‘pressed’ the minds of as many female elves he could capture to be his private breeding stock. My ancestors were appalled at his behaviour, but did nothing, hampered by the ‘unwritten law’ that elves did not do violence to other elves. It was unthinkable to them and they did not stop him and his perversions. We lived long lives and controlled our rate of increase and had never outstripped the land’s capacity to feed us. We numbered but a few hundred thousand and had stayed that way for eons.

My people exiled themselves from the Dokka’lfar and moved as far away from them as they could, in the end, looking for another solution. Finally it was too late to do anything at all as they bred by the millions and turned Alfheimr our home world into a wilderness stripped of anything edible. That was when they turned on our kind, the elder race and practised cannibalism against us, the Ljo’sa’lfar. They fanatically lusted after the flesh of my people and began to prey upon us.

I took the mantle of the High King and forged my gentle people into a fighting force. I was born with the ability to kill others of my kind, as all of the High King’s bloodline could. This was my heritage hidden from the sight of others of my kind. It was a heavy burden for me to carry and it cost the lives of every Dark Elf and the hell-spawn of their indiscriminate breeding. I had no choice and with the aid of human friends and their weapons we finally prevailed. I had other allies that stood fast with us.

When Auberon had taken the last of my kind in the Spellbinder to Earth, they had settled amongst the Neanderthal peoples of northern Europe. His father the High King Freyr, had lain down his life to save his people. He kept the hordes of Dokka’lfar away from the reality-shifting ship until it was full, by expending his mental energy using the Star of Light. When he weakened, they ate him alive. I know, because I have his mind in mine, just as I have all the High Kings minds imprisoned inside my skull. Auberon took his place and ruled on Earth until the increased working of iron forced my people to relocate again to this world we named Haven. The Dokka’lfar found the link to Earth and plundered a vast number of humans as a food source and slaves, taking them with them. Eventually they made a bridge to this world and the great siege began after their craft went insane here, by Abaddon, keeping the bridge open.

We lived on a mountain in the centre of a vast crater teeming with dinosaurs, which had only one exit, through the great gorge. This we filled with a poisoned brier that grew far faster than it could be removed. This only entrance was patrolled by the dwarves. The Dokka’lfar spent centuries trying to get in without success.

On this world the dinosaurs had not completely died out and the raptors had evolved intelligence. They had mastered fire and used tools. They too became allies in the struggle against the Dark Elves. They in turn found them an acceptable food source. One of the Ljo’sa’lfar genetic experts developed a virus that would sterilise the Dokka’lfar and kill most of them. We spread it into the army that was trying to get in. My people drove hungry T Rex’s that had their tiny minds ‘pressed’ to eat only the Dark Elves and look upon all else as ‘not food,’ through the open gate into our home world of Aifheimr. With them fled the infected Dokka’lfar, spreading the virus wherever they hid. I infected the rest of the world taking the virus in the Spellbinder and dropped off more meat-eating dinosaurs to mop up any survivors. The virus was fast acting and spread as fast as the wind could blow the spores.

When I eventually returned to Molock’s castle to see if he had survived I found that this had enabled the humans imprisoned on that world, to revolt and overthrow him. They had soon found that by wearing iron collars it stopped him from dominating their minds. They had exacted a terrible revenge upon him by removing his legs and feasting on them in front of the cage in which they had imprisoned him. He had developed a healing salve that would allow his kind to eat the humans piece by piece, or allow them to grow back a limb after removal, but first he turned them into cocaine addicts to season the flesh. They had applied this to his stumps so that he did not die, leaving his fate to me.

I killed him with an AK-47, left him inside the cage and destroyed the abomination of his castle using explosives. My human friends, Sam Pitts and John Smith had set them well and all the walls had fallen inwards, leaving just a mountain of rubble where the atrocity had stood. I made sure that no-one would ever go near it again. Or so I thought!

As the years went by, my colony of humans increased and spread out over the empty lands of Aifheimr and developed farming to a great trading system. None of them wanted to return to Earth and I used the resources of my engineering business to buy equipment, seed and stock. Certain people were selected and offered a one way ticket to this empty world so we had doctors, teachers and all manner of skilled artisans living here. Life was getting more and more dangerous in the human world and things were building up to a crisis.

Finally a full scale war broke out and I would no longer use the Spellbinder to travel to the Earth anymore. I managed to bring all of the workers who had managed Acme Engineering back to Aifheimr safely before the bombs began to drop. Reluctantly I was adamant that there would not be any more trips back to their home-world in the future. A great number of my people elected to return to the old homelands and live with the humans there. I decided to stay here on Haven and continue to live at the castle that my ancestors had built.

The other thing that I did was to impound every Earth weapon that had been given to elf, dwarf, human, goblin and gnome. These firearms were covered in grease and stored in the basements of the castle along with any other ordinance. My human friends had taken some time to adjust to my edict as they were so used to being able to carry arms. I made the point that there was no need to be able to kill at a distance farther than a bow could reach. We had no enemies now and anyone foolish enough to wander through Prime’s territory deserved what happened to them.

The last of the meat-eaters had been eradicated from Alfheimr, once all of the Dokka’lfar had perished. A vast restocking took place all over the planet of not just domestic animals, but also wild creatures from Earth and Haven. Many of the dinosaurs had adjusted to eating the plants that had been transferred from Earth thousands of years ago by the Ljo’sa’lfar. These vegetarians packed on the meat at a steady rate and made good eating as did the eggs so they were transferred to the Elven world.

As the years went by everything stabilised nicely and the effort in recolonizing the two worlds took up the majority of my time. My son Elthred grew up in a world in which many different sentient creatures flourished. He carried the High King’s genes and was born to rule our people and after two centuries had passed by I allowed him to be in charge of Aifheimr and to mastermind the rebuilding of the elf home-world. Humans, goblins, and gnomes all lived together amicably without any problems. The humans were quite happy to have escaped the violent world of their birth and settle on the Elven world. The dwarves decided to stay on Haven and made sure that there would be no competition between the Neanderthal stock and Homo-sapiens. Both offshoots of humanity got on very well, but both wanted to keep racial purity given what had happened in the past.

Slowly over the years the memory of the Dokka’lfar and their excesses began to fade.

Eloen was a Halfling. Molock had been her father, but a human woman had been her mother. Out of all the many women he had ‘favoured’ with his attention only this one had become pregnant. She had been born over three centuries before, long before Molock’s death and had kept to the fringes of the Dokka’lfar society. She had watched her mother die of old age while she stayed young. Eloen had all the mental powers of her father and many of his vices. She was strong and clever; dominating any of Molock’s other children with ease as she rose in power, building her own small empire, separated from the mainland of what would have been Europe on Earth. Here on an island she ruled supreme, making sure that the mindless Dokka’lfar did not breed themselves into starvation, while she picked through the ones that were sentient and controlled them with a light mental leash. Life was good until a strange sickness began to rage throughout her people, except the humans that she bred for food and sport. Suddenly a new menace began to prowl through the lands; reptilian meat-eaters that targeted only the Dark Elves and would not kill the humans. They were unstoppable, as all of them wore iron collars around their necks making them uncontrollable by mental pressure. It did not take long before the humans realised this and they all wore iron around their necks as well.

A systematic slaughter of her people took place as dinosaurs and humans worked together ferreting out those who had fallen sick and making easy access to them for the meat-eaters. It had not taken them long to tear down the walls of her stronghold and let the beasts inside. There were many of the large killers that stood four times the height of an elf, but the deadliest ones proved to be the ones the same size, as they could wriggle into small spaces and drag the terrified Dark Elves into the light. There they would be torn to pieces and eaten. Even in the middle of a feeding frenzy the dinosaurs ignored the humans that fought amongst them. It was obvious to Eloen that they had been ‘pressed’ to do so. It had to be the Ljo’sa’lfar that had found the will to fight back after thousands of years of pacifism.

She reasoned that it could be the only explanation for the sudden collapse of the Dark Elves power. Her reaction to the sickness that had spread through her people was slight and it had to be the human part of her that was resistant to it that had saved her life. Eloen dressed herself for battle in hardened leather and bronze, carrying little more than her knives of obsidian. Across her back she carried her bow and arrows with a length of rope. As the outer walls came tumbling inwards, she had made her way to the far side of her stronghold and let herself out of a window, leaving the disease stricken Dokka’lfar to slow down the assault by man and beast. At the foot of the tower she shook the rope loose and made her way towards the trees. By now the stronghold was well alight and flames were pouring out of the window that she had just vacated. Once the humans had found that she was nowhere to be found they would search her stronghold and then the countryside around it. She realised that she did not have a great deal of time before this happened.

She made her way down the roadway that had been flattened through the surrounding woods at a steady run. As she topped a rise Eloen stopped short and stared at the sight that unfolded in front of her. A beast that seemed to be all head and teeth was crunching up one of her kind. It tilted its head and the remains slid down the throat into its stomach. It heard her as she trod on dry twig, making an audible snap and stood erect on its huge hindquarters with its tail counterbalancing the weight of its front end. The beast sniffed the air and shuffled towards her, casting its head from side to side.

Eloen stood very still and assessed the situation, watching the animal as it swung its head towards her. She could plainly see a metallic collar around its neck and realised that it must be iron, as she could not get into its mind. Droplets of saliva mixed with Dark Elf blood hung from the hinge of its jaws. The teeth were longer than her obsidian daggers and the ridiculously tiny front arms were still bigger than hers, carrying claws that were long and sharp. As it advanced towards her she caught the stench of its breath and she wet herself with fear.

The beast snorted and shook its head, stopping short of where she stood. It leaned uncertainly forwards and sniffed Eloen’s face and slowly down to her feet. It sneezed over her and stood back, uncertain in its actions. The Halfling suddenly realised that she did not smell like the other Dokka’lfar and an idea presented itself. She edged forwards until she was once more in front of the confused beast and as it swung its head to one side, she side-stepped it and quickly ran up the base of its tail and up onto its shoulders. Eloen grabbed hold of the metal collar covered in greased leather and drew her head close to the animal’s tiny brain. Before it could react to the unaccustomed weight on its shoulders Eloen had dominated it and ‘pressed’ it into her service.

To the tiny mind of the T Rex the weight on her shoulders had always been there. It was to be ignored. It was her young that needed to be protected at all costs. She would hunt for it and carry it wherever it needed to go. Eloen was satisfied now that she had the means of escape from the immediate surroundings. Now was the time to cover as much distance as she could. She turned the beast towards the road and urged it onwards. The beast could run! It charged off in a loping run that soon ate up the miles and took them far away from her old home. It did not take long before they came upon a homestead where a Dokka’lfar ‘family’ had settled with a few human slaves.

The area looked well managed so the dominant Dark Elf must have had a reasonable intelligence to make decisions that produced food. There were so many Dokka’lfar spread over the lands of Aifheimr that they had turned it into a devastated hell. Here it seemed that the mindless had been kept at bay and in turn had provided a stringy meal to those who ruled.

Eloen liked her lips in anticipation as her new ‘mother’ turned her head to follow the scent trail. She swung her head from side to side, hunting for live food and walked through a makeshift fence up to the walls of the farm. The T Rex tore off the roof and buried her head inside bringing out a live Dokka’lfar in her jaws. She turned her head round and offered the screaming child to Eloen crunching down and swallowing the front half. The Halfling quickly stripped the flesh from the legs and buttocks and chewed enthusiastically on the fresh, warm and bloody meat. She tossed the remains down to her protector which swallowed what was left after a quick crunch. The T Rex again plunged her head into the remains of the roof and once again picked off another child, swallowing this tiny morsel whole.

The Halfling gave the beast a command to stay and slipped off the neck of the beast onto the ground. She gave the door a shove and entered the remains of the farm. Inside was water drawn from the well in a bucket and she drank to quench her thirst. She put some of it aside and washed herself, cleaning the blood and dinosaur spittle from her body and leather armour. It was getting dark and she needed to sleep so she found the bedroom that lacked its roof and settled down to sleep. There would be no rain tonight so she would remain dry. She had survived being killed by the human slaves at her stronghold and had added a new ‘friend’ to her arsenal. In the morning she would try and find out what had happened to turn her life upside down. Now she would sleep content.

It was just before dawn that something awoke her by intruding into her senses. She sprang from her bed and naked, rushed outside and found her protector looking up at the sky. Eloen leapt to her side and wound her arm around the iron collar pressing her forehead to the body heat of the metal. There in the sky was a bubble that distorted the clouds behind it and it was filled with Ljo’sa’lfar! She could feel their minds with hers for just one moment and then the contact went fuzzy. Gnomes! It had to be gnomes that were aiding the Light Elves. Old folklore had been handed down about the old races that once had lived on Aifheimr before the Dokka’lfar had driven them out.

Eloen returned to the inside of the farmhouse and dressed herself. She then searched through the bottom of the building until she found the tools tucked away inside a wooden box. There were bronze cutters and spades in abundance, but little that would suit the purpose that she had in mind. What she needed was something that housed a diamond edge as bronze would never cut through iron unless the iron was soft. She had spent enough time holding onto the beast’s collar to know that it had been hammered shut and was quite hard. At last she found a glass cutter wrapped in a soft leather pouch. Eloen held it aloft and watched the sunlight catch the facets in the diamond. It had been worked to present a sharp edge and she checked it by rubbing a finger down its edge. A small bead of blood trickled down her palm.

She went outside where the ‘pressed’ T Rex sat in the morning sun waiting for her. Eloen climbed the beast until she was once more perched upon the massive neck and began to rotate the collar around the creature’s neck until she came to the join. The metal was thinner here as it had been hammered together. The Halfling began to scribe the diamond’s edge back and forth to bite into the metal. She