At the Gates of Darkness

by Raymond E. Feist

  It was Gulamendis who spoke next. “I don’t know if it’s a trap, in particular, but it certainly is something neither Amirantha or myself can reconcile with what we know of demon behavior. It’s far too…patient. This device Sandreena describes has been under construction for at least a year, probably two, given the amount of stone in those walls and the number of workers involved.

  “Our own geomancers could do it in a fifth of the time, but, Sandreena, did you see any signs of magicians constructing anything?”

  “No,” she replied. “Three of the four arching towers are finished, and the fourth was halfway done. They were hauling stones up with a gigantic hoist atop a series of huge wooden platforms. And the workers looked as if they were ready to drop at any minute.”

  Pug said, “Jim, I appreciate your impulse toward caution, and I promise that my own experience with demons tends to put my instincts in harmony with your own, but we have one occurrence on this world that is clearly demon controlled, and we must go down there and put an end to it.”

  “May I suggest one more reconnaissance before you launch an assault? I can provide as much distraction from Krondor as you need for the Keshian court to not pay attention to an army of ten thousand mercenaries marching across two hundred miles of open country, but it would really be a benefit to our cause if we didn’t get them all obliterated and have to inform Kesh that an infernal invasion is under way on their sovereign territory and, by the way, the Demon Legion is heading straight toward the City of Kesh.”

  “Then we’ll make sure that doesn’t happen,” said Pug. “But your suggestion is in harmony with my own opinion; I will go with Magnus to look over this site.” He looked at Amirantha and Gulamendis. “I would really find it useful if you two would accompany us.”

  “Of course,” said Amirantha, and a moment later after considering the request, Gulamendis nodded as well.

  Laromendis said, “We need to send word to the Lord Regent, as well.” He did not look happy at that prospect, and Pug thought it best to ask him about this later, in private.

  Pug said, “Given the time, we shall leave after the evening’s supper. Sandreena.” Then, turning to the Knight-Sergeant, he said, “Would you care to accompany us?”

  Amirantha barely hid his surprise at the request, but said nothing.

  “Certainly. If there’s any way I can find out what happened to Knight-Adamant Jaliel, I will take it.”

  “Our first responsibility will be to evaluate the situation.” To the others in the room Pug said, “Continue your duties, and make sure everyone is ready for whatever orders are issued.” He motioned for a young magician to come to him. When the youthful-looking magician was close, he said, “Send word to Lord Kaspar and ask him to join us. Tell him we’ll have him back to his palace before anyone notices he’s gone. Thank you.” The magician nodded he understood and departed.

  “Let us adjourn and we shall send word after we have completed our reconnaissance.”

  The meeting broke up and Sandreena rose quickly from the table, first to put some distance between herself and Amirantha; she found the necessity of being with him in the name of duty acceptable, if barely, but would just as soon avoid his company if she had the option.

  Besides, she was intrigued by this Kingdom nobleman lurking in the corner of the room, and decided it was as valid an excuse to get away from the Warlock as she could contrive. All too soon she would have to be conferring with Amirantha and his elven counterpart on matters of demon lore and, more important to her, how to eradicate them.

  She caught up with Jim at the door and said, “Excuse me, sir, but have we met?”

  With a slight smile, he nodded. “On the docks in Durban. I was the agent who gave you the package.”

  “Ah,” she said. “Still, I have some other meeting in mind. In Durban I could not see your face, just your eyes…” She squinted slightly. “Something about your eyes.”

  “Well, then, a formal introduction: I’m James, Court Baron in Krondor, aid to the Prince at times, servant of His Majesty the King, and,” he lowered his voice, “member of the Conclave of Shadows.”

  She glanced around. “Apparently I am as well.”

  “I heard about Creegan having to hurry off to become Grand Master of your order.” He motioned for her to walk with him. The meeting room was in the lower basement of the castle opposite the pantry and kitchen, and he led her up the stairs to the central keep’s great room. Here tables had been set up and the fire was burning, against the need to feed nearly thirty key members of the Conclave. “Walk with me outside?” asked Jim.

  Sandreena said, “I could use some fresh air.”

  They stepped outside the central keep and found the marshaling yard relatively empty. Whatever activity the Conclave was undertaking, it was doing a masterful job disguising it. Against the remote possibility they were under scrutiny, anything relating to marshaling the Conclave’s forces with their allies was happening somewhere else.

  “You and Amirantha…?” He looked her in the eye. “Something going on between you?”

  “It’s personal.”

  Jim took a slow, deep breath and looked away. He said, “I was going to have this talk with you tomorrow; I’ve already discussed it with Creegan and Pug. But now is as good a time as any.”

  She caught a glimpse of his profile as he stared into the sky a moment and for reasons she couldn’t name she felt herself tense and her hand moved toward her mace. Suddenly his hand shot out and seized her wrist, his thumb digging into a nerve bundle and paralyzing her for a moment. She instinctively twisted her wrist before she pulled away, breaking his hold, but the damage was done. She could not get a decent grip on her mace with her right hand.

  She switched to her left and her mace came up. “What did you do that for?” she demanded as she got into a defensive position.

  “Your training,” he said, backing away a step. “I didn’t want to take the chance you’d leave my brains all over the sand before I had the opportunity to explain a few things to you.”

  “Such as?” she asked.

  “Let’s start with the first problem between us, though it is the least important. You’ve been trying to remember where we have met, correct?”

  “Yes,” she said, still on guard. The numbness in her right hand was wearing off and she tossed her mace deftly from left to right.

  “I’m the bastard who sold you to the Keshian.”

  Her eyes widened. “You’re Quick Jimmy!”

  “Jimmyhand, Jim Dasher, yes, to all of them.”

  He could tell it was taking all her self-control not to lash out at him right then. Slowly she put her mace back on her belt. “I can kill you later, if I must,” she said softly, almost a hiss of warning. “Why? Don’t tell me this was some part of a great plan you and Creegan had for me. I was a whore then.”

  “Creegan had nothing to do with it. He didn’t know you existed,” countered Jim, crossing his arms over his chest. “And it had nothing to do with the Conclave, at least not directly. I wanted you in bed with that merchant, and after a month or so, we were going to contact you and offer you your freedom after you worked for us for a while.”

  “Freedom…” She paused to consider. “You wanted me to spy on him!”

  “Yes. He was well connected to members of the Keshian Intelligence Corps, but he also had dealings with Kesh’s criminal empires. He was a smuggler as well as a trader.” Unfolding his arms, he put his right hand on his chest and said, “I am also a man of many interests, and when I tell you this, you will know that your life has forever changed, once more. I am the Upright Man of Krondor, and I needed my competition from Kesh neutralized.

  “As fortune would have it, even though you didn’t reach Kesh and became a Sister of the Order of the Shield of the Weak, I found other means to achieve my end.” He looked at her with a narrowing gaze. Her expression was one of open shock. “You know what this means?”

  “The Upright Man…” She put her ma
ce away. “It means I’m not leaving this island alive if I don’t agree to something.”

  He grinned. “Creegan said the Goddess had plans for you that were better than mine, and I will not disagree. You are far too intelligent to let you wither in some Keshian lord’s bed, or retire to some small town to start a modest inn with the gold we would have given you.

  “No, you are destined for greater things, Sandreena.” He took a folded parchment out of his belt and handed it to her.

  She took it and saw the seal of the Order pressed into heavy wax. She cracked the seal and unfolded the message. She read it. Then she read it a second time. Softly she said, “He can’t be serious?”

  Jim was forced to laugh at her response. “He said that would be your exact words. He knows you well, Sandreena. Or should I say, Mother-Bishop Sandreena.”

  “Me, in charge of the Order in the west?”

  “You already are. As you no doubt realize, we of the Conclave have not done as well recruiting agents within the various temples. We have none in several of the temples, Sung, Astalon, and Lims-Kragma being the most difficult—it’s that absolute mind-set, I think. I am as practical a man as you’ll meet, and there are times when I feel divided in my loyalties between the Kingdom and the Conclave.”

  “Then why do it?” she asked.

  “Because while I love my homeland, Pug is trying to save the world. It’s hard to argue for the Kingdom’s interest if the entire planet is conquered by demons.”

  She took a deep breath and said, “What if I don’t want to be Mother-Bishop?”

  “Well, you were wrong about not leaving here alive. You’ll wake up on a beach somewhere near Land’s End, and you’ll have a vivid memory of your boat overturning in rough water and you not reaching Sorcerer’s Isle. You’ll also decide that rather than try again, you’ll return to Krondor and seek out help there.

  “After that, you’ll continue as Knight-Sergeant of the Order while waiting for Creegan to send a new Bishop to run things in the west, and…?” He shrugged. “Creegan will find another.”

  “Another?”

  “You’re not the only talented youngster in the Order, Sandreena. You just happen to be the one who is here now, and, well, you’re a great deal more talented than anyone else we have around. Amirantha practically sings your praises when it comes to how you can dispatch a demon.” Jim narrowed his gaze as if appraising her. “You always were one of the more striking women I’d seen. I remember you in the brothel and there was a reason you commanded the highest price. You’ve kept the core of that beauty despite the training, sweat, and pounds of muscle you’ve put on, but I’ll tell you this much: he sees more in you than most men.”

  Her expression turned dark. “He had a pitiful way of showing me.”

  “Ah,” said Jim with a single slow nod. “Now I see; more than he admits to himself. Very well; that’s between you and Amirantha. Now, are you taking the commission or not?”

  She looked one more time at the folded message, then said, “Of course I am. If I don’t, I’ll never get to go look for Jaliel.”

  Without another word, she turned and walked back to the keep. Jim stood outside, enjoying the cool breeze off the ocean and the relative calm. He knew there wouldn’t be much calm after today.

  Taking in a deep breath, shaking his head at how things turn out despite plans at times, he chuckled to himself at how well Creegan did understand his protégé, and he slowly returned to the keep, trying to savor a few more moments of fresh air before plunging back into the intrigues and murderous needs of the Conclave.

  Pug asked, “Why can’t you go?”

  Laromendis said, “My brother and I are not well regarded by our people.” He sat back in one of the two chairs before Pug’s desk. The other should have been occupied by his brother, save Gulamendis was somewhere with Amirantha poring over a volume on demon lore. “To understand, you’d have to have some knowledge of the history of the Edhel.”

  “I know a little,” said Pug, “from Tomas.”

  Laromendis nodded. “His memories from the Valheru, the Dragon Lord.” The elf’s forehead furrowed in an expression of worry. “There are many things that I fail to understand, and that particular miracle is one of them, but what he remembers is what another being saw. It is not the only perspective.”

  Pug made a gesture with both hands indicating the elf should continue. “I will spare you a long story of our struggles and say that at the height of our power, the Taredhel had risen to heights no elf living on Midkemia could imagine. We were rulers of worlds, Pug. But with such a change in our nature came a price—arrogance. Few of my race would admit to it, but having spent some time on this world, scouting and encountering…” He took a slow breath. “Before I returned to Andcardia with word that I had found Home, Midkemia, I killed a member of your race; a cleric I had captured and after I obtained all the useful information I could from him, I simply killed him to ensure no one would know I had been there. I know travelers who’ve ventured too close to E’bar have been murdered. I know the Lord Regent has ordered raids against farms and villages in the Free Cities, letting blame fall on our cousins, the Moredhel.”

  Pug said, “This is disturbing news. Why are you telling me this if you know this will indispose me toward your people?”

  “Because there are those of us within the Taredhel who do not agree with this course of action. Before I was born, all matters mystical, what you would have called priests, magicians, healers, and the like, existed independent of civil authority.

  “Your friend Tomas is wed to the woman who we view as the unbroken connection back to the roots of our past, those elves primarily responsible for the cultivation and care of the holy groves, what we call the Stars. But real power for our people has resided with the Regent’s Meet and the Circle of Light.

  “When we first encountered the demons, the Regent’s Meet ruled that all members of the Circle of Light had to sever ties with that organization and subject themselves to the rule of the Regent’s Meet or suffer the consequences, which were imprisonment or death, the latter being the more usual consequence.”

  “For what reason?”

  “Power. Pure naked power. The Regent has by tradition been forbidden to take the title King, because there always was this faint hope among the Taredhel that we would someday return here and reclaim the world.” Laromendis sighed and shook his head slowly, as if in regret. “We never expected this world. We thought we’d find one in ruins, or perhaps in a primeval state, or even one occupied only by other elves, and we would assume our rightful place as their rulers.

  “We even imagined a world where the Valheru were still in residence, and we were prepared to fight for our freedom. We have evolved. You’ve seen the other elves of this world, Pug, and you know that we are larger, stronger, faster, and more ruthless. Our magic dwarfs any that the Spellweavers of Elvandar can hope to bring against us.

  “In short, the Regent doesn’t want allies; he wants subjects. And of any voice to whom he might listen, mine is among the least likely.”

  “You were a member of the Circle?”

  “Barely. My brother and I are young compared to the others of the Circle. I was a member less than ten years, Gulamendis not at all; Demon Masters are not well regarded, even among the most accepting of our people.”

  “Amirantha suffered the same regard,” said Pug. “Or should I say lack of regard.”

  Laromendis said, “He is the first of your race I can say my brother has developed some affection toward; it’s quite remarkable. As I said, we are an arrogant people.” He sighed, then said, “In my case, I do not particularly care for your race, Pug, but I also do not hold you in any sort of disdain. If I were to admit my shortcoming, here it is, that I don’t feel much kinship with anyone besides my brother. Perhaps that is due to our upbringing, but I feel much the same way toward the other elven races on Midkemia.

  “But to return to the reason we are talking, I think you may have diff
iculty with anyone you might choose to speak to the Regent.” He narrowed his gaze. “The only person I can name who might persuade him to mitigate his position regarding alliances with humans and dwarves—and that would be close to a miracle; dwarves have never gotten along with the Taredhel—that person is Lord Tomas.”

  “Why?” asked Pug, now intrigued.

  “The Regent honors the Queen, but he doesn’t respect her. The Eledhel are seen as rustics, simple, lacking the sophistication of the Eldar. The other Eldar, the ones who did not become the Taredhel, those are viewed with distrust, because they serve the Queen. The others?” He made a small motion of dismissal with his head. Pug knew he meant the Moredhel, Glamredhel, and others were just not worth discussing. “But Lord Tomas, the Regent cannot completely rid himself of our heritage. He fears Lord Tomas. As much as he would like to displace him and the Queen and proclaim himself King of all Edhel, raising the Taredhel to supremacy among the People, he doesn’t dare think about the consequence of trying. You only have to see Tomas standing there in his armor, not even climbing up on the back of a dragon, to know that he is Valheru when he wants to be.” Laromendis nodded slowly. “Yes, have Lord Tomas speak with the Lord Regent, and perhaps some good may come of it.”

  Pug was silent, then said, “Thank you, Laromendis. Both for the suggestion and your frankness. The truth is those few of your people I’ve met besides yourself and your brother strike me as being as you said they were.”

  “I have another name,” said Laromendis, standing, as he knew this discussion was coming to a close. “Tandarae, the newly appointed Lorekeeper of the Taredhel. He understands there are powerful beings on this world, and that having them as friends is a better choice than trying to conquer them. Were there a million of us here, the war would already have begun, I fear, but we have perhaps ten thousand or so who now cling to the legacy of the stars. It’s both a sad time and a time for opportunity, Pug. Tandarae, keep his name in mind, and if you ever have cause to speak with anyone in the Regent’s Meet, it would have to be with discretion, but he’s the one.”