Demonsouled Omnibus One

by Jonathan Moeller

  She loved her son, she loved her husband, and she wanted to make more children with him.

  Afterward she lay against him, her head resting on his chest.

  “That was…unexpected,” said Gerald.

  She smiled. “You didn’t complain.”

  “Certainly not,” said Gerald. He was a year younger than she was, tall and strong with pale blue eyes and blond hair. Their son had inherited his eyes and her black hair. "Won't Aldane be awake soon?"

  She sighed and pressed tighter against him. "Not quite yet. Another half-hour, perhaps. And if he wakes up, Sarah can tend to him until I join her."

  "I'm still surprised you didn't take a wet nurse," said Gerald. "Most noblewomen do."

  Rachel levered up on one elbow, looked him in the eyes. "Aldane is my son. I will nurse him. I...waited so long for him, Gerald. For him, and for you."

  Gerald smiled, kissed her. "Whatever pleases you, my dear."

  "You should spend the day with me," said Rachel. "With me, and Aldane. That would please me. Very much."

  "If only I could," said Gerald. "I'll need to meet with Father and Tobias and the Justiciar Commander this morning. They'll want to discuss the situation in Mastaria, of course."

  "Why isn't the war over by now?" said Rachel. A year ago, her brother Mazael had smashed the assembled forces of the Dominiar Order below the gates of Tumblestone. With their leadership destroyed and their army broken, the Dominiar Order collapsed, and Lord Malden Roland's vassals claimed the Dominiars' lands for their own. Mastaria swore fealty to Knightcastle now. A few Dominiar remnants had tried to carry on the fight, but they had been destroyed one by one, or fled to the east and the north. "Surely the Dominiars cannot have the strength left to fight?"

  "They don't," said Gerald. "In fact, the Dominiar Order, save for a few renegades, no longer exists. The church has even withdrawn its support for the Order. And the Dominiars were cruel lords - it seems the Mastarians much prefer my father's lordship. No, it's not the Dominiars. Some of our younger lords and knights are flush with conquest, and want to invade the Old Kingdoms."

  "But that's foolish," said Rachel.

  "It is," said Gerald. "The Old Kingdoms suffered cruelly under the Dominiars. Now that they've regained their freedom, they'll not give it up again with a sharp fight. Invading the Old Kingdoms would be folly, but some of our rasher vassals desire new lands, and the Justiciars want to wipe out the pagan faiths and bring them to the Amathavian church."

  "Men," said Rachel. "No matter how much money and land you have, it's never enough. You always need more."

  "Well, I can hardly fault their ambition," said Gerald. "A man needs lands and incomes to win a wife." His hand slid down her bare back. "And if the prize is so lovely as you...why, who can fault their daring?"

  "Flatterer," said Rachel, closing her eyes. "And I am no prize."

  She wasn't, whatever Gerald might think. She had done things in her past, things she did not like to remember. In the depths of her despair, she had prayed to Sepharivaim, the cruel god of the San-keth serpent people. She had pledged herself to marry Skhath, a San-keth cleric, and promised to let him father half human, half San-keth changelings upon her. But Mazael had saved her from all that.

  Mazael, and Gerald.

  "Normally I would not worry," said Gerald, "but Tobias is enamored of the idea. And Tobias has great influence with Father, ever since Father sank into his...depression. Tobias is hotheaded, true, but he can listen to reason. I will talk sense into him and the Justiciar Commander, and that will be that."

  "Good," said Rachel, not opening her eyes.

  They lay in silence for a moment.

  "Do you remember Romaria?" said Rachel.

  "Yes," said Gerald. "The woman from Deepforest Keep, the one Simonian of Briault killed. I think she was the only woman your brother ever loved, Rachel."

  "She was," said Rachel.

  "Why do you ask?" said Gerald.

  "You mentioned the Old Kingdoms," said Rachel. "It...put something in my mind. I remembered Romaria talking to Mazael about the Old Kingdoms, how she hated what the Dominiars had done there. So keeping Tobias from invading the Old Kingdoms would have made her happy. And that will have made Mazael happy. Which will make me happy."

  “That is all it takes to make you happy?” said Gerald. “Who knew it was so easy?”

  She laughed and gave him a gentle punch on the shoulder. “It would make me happier if you could spend the day with us.”

  “I cannot, if I am to talk Tobias out of invading the Old Kingdoms,” said Gerald. “But…after that, yes. After the midday meal. We will spend the rest of the day together. And we’ll take dinner together. Just you, me, and Aldane. And the servants, of course. A daughter of House Roland cannot be expected to cook, after all.”

  “Of course not,” said Rachel. “I am a noblewoman. I would make a dreadful cook.”

  “There is one other thing I need to discuss with Tobias and Father,” said Gerald. “These rumors from the Grim Marches.”

  “Rumors?” Rachel lifted her head. “What rumors?”

  “You haven’t heard?” said Gerald. “If you haven’t…I don’t wish to disturb your mind.”

  “Tell me,” said Rachel.

  “We received word from Tristgard and the other towns along the border,” said Gerald. “Some refugees have been arriving from the Grim Marches.”

  “Fleeing what?” said Rachel.

  “We don’t know,” said Gerald. “There have been rumors. A plague, for one. Or that the lords of the High Plain or the Stormvales have attacked Richard Mandragon. Or that devils have taken physical form and stalk the Grim Marches.”

  Rachel snorted. “Who would be foolish enough to invade the Grim Marches? Mazael would destroy them. He defeated the Dominiars twice, after all.”

  A piercing cry cut into her words. She had moved Aldane’s crib to the anteroom last night, under Sarah’s watchful eye, so she could make love to Gerald in peace. But even the bedroom door, thick iron-banded oak, did little to block the baby’s voice.

  “Ah,” said Gerald. “He sounds hungry.”

  “Your son,” said Rachel, “will take after his father and uncle, and command armies in battle. You could hear his voice even over the clamor of a battlefield, I’m sure.”

  ###

  After Gerald left, Rachel dressed in a robe and fed Aldane.

  It was almost spring, so Rachel sat on the balcony outside her bedroom. The rooms she shared with Gerald were in Ideliza's Tower, which rose from Knightcastle's highest tier. According to the story, the tower had been named for the doomed lover of a long-dead Roland knight, back in ancient times when the Rolands had still ruled as kings, rather than lords, over Knightcastle.

  She sat on a bench, cradling Aldane as he nursed.

  From the balcony she had a grand view of Knightcastle, its towers and parapets and walls, the three concentric curtain walls ringing the vast stone maze of the castle. Beyond she saw the silver ribbon of the Rivesteel, shining in its valley, and the rooftops and towers of Castle Town. Barges moved along the river, carrying cargo from Knightport, and shipping goods down the river.

  It was a beautiful view. Rachel loved Knightcastle, loved its grandeur and beauty, loved the stories and legends attached to it. It was so different from the bleak walls and towers of Castle Cravenlock, looming on its crag. Rachel had grown up at Castle Cravenlock, but the castle had too many dark memories for her. Her cold father. Mitor's brutality. Skhath and the San-keth temple below the castle.

  No, she didn't want to remember that.

  Knightcastle was her home now. Gerald and Aldane were her family.

  She looked at Aldane's red face, his eyes closed as he suckled, and smiled.

  Though she did miss Mazael. Perhaps she could travel to Castle Cravenlock for a visit, once Aldane was old enough. Still, she hoped to be pregnant again soon, and the roads were no place for a pregnant woman. Perhaps she would ask Gerald to invite Mazael t
o visit Knightcastle. Aldane was his nephew, after all.

  "My lady?"

  Her maid Sarah stepped into the balcony, holding a plate. She was a young woman, younger than Rachel, with a gaunt face and black hair cut into ragged spikes. The hair and the dress hanging on her thin frame made her look slovenly, but Rachel had no cause for complaint. She had hired Sarah in the sixth month of her pregnancy, and the maid had given loyal service ever since.

  "Your tea, my lady," said Sarah, setting the plate on the stone bench by Rachel's hand. "And some cheese and fruit. You should eat more. You need to keep up your strength, my lady. Nursing a baby is...hungry work."

  Rachel laughed. "You worry too much, Sarah."

  "Only for your son, my lady," said Sarah, lowering her eyes. "He is...he is such a handsome boy. I worry for him so."

  "That is kind of you," said Rachel.

  Sarah bowed. "I will leave you to your breakfast, my lady."

  "No, don't go," said Rachel. "It would be nice to talk."

  Sarah hesitated. "That...may not be proper, my lady. And will not Lady Rhea be visiting you this morning?"

  Rachel sniffed and adjusted her hold on Aldane. "I shall speak with whom I wish." At Castle Cravenlock, Mitor had forbidden her from speaking with the servants. Now she delighted in flaunting that rule. "Besides, Lady Rhea is a most...formidable woman." Gerald's mother knew her mind, and as the chief noblewoman of Knightcastle, was not afraid to speak it. "It is difficult to simply talk to her, one woman to another."

  For a moment Sarah hesitated, gazing at Aldane, her face going blank.

  Then she smiled. "As you wish, my lady." She bowed once more and sat besides Rachel on the bench.

  "It is a fine day, isn't it?" said Rachel.

  "It is," said Sarah, looking again at Aldane. "And he is indeed a handsome boy. I...had several brothers who did not live to their first year. Aldane is so much stronger than them."

  "Do you have a large family?" said Rachel.

  "Oh, yes, very large," said Sarah. "I have many brothers and sisters. And many half-brothers and half-sisters." Her smile grew distant. "My father was somewhat...indiscreet, my lady."

  "Perhaps you'll have many children of your own, someday," said Rachel.

  Sarah sighed. "No, I fear not. I had a...pox, as a child. It left me barren."

  "Oh! I didn't know. I'm so sorry to have mentioned it."

  "It is all right," said Sarah, looking at Aldane again. "I made my peace with it long ago. I shall have to live to serve others, I suppose. And it will make me happy to see your son grow up strong."

  "He will," said Rachel. "I'm sure of it."

  "Yes," said Sarah, smiling again. "He will."

  ###

  Later that day Rachel sat in the courtyard outside Ideliza's Tower, enjoying the sun. Aldane lay sleeping in a basket at her feet, while Sarah stood nearby, humming a tune to herself. Rachel sewed, working on one of Gerald's surcoats. Mitor had encouraged her to sew, believing it ladylike, but Rachel enjoyed it anyway. It kept her fingers busy, her mind from dwelling upon the darkness of the past.

  She smiled to herself.

  Boots clicked against the flagstones, and Rachel looked up. Gerald walked past the barren gardens, clad all in blue, his cloak held in place with a silver brooch shaped like the greathelm sigil of the Rolands.

  His was face grave.

  "What is it?" said Rachel, rising and taking his hands. "Did Tobias go to war against the Old Kingdoms?"

  "Tobias?" said Gerald. "No, no. It was easy to talk him and the Justiciar Commander out of the idea. We had other news by that point."

  "Other news?" said Rachel. "Gerald, what happened?"

  He took a deep breath. "We received a letter from Mazael."

  "Mazael?" said Rachel. "Is...he safe? Is anything wrong?"

  "He is well," said Gerald. "At least for now. Rachel, the stories were true. The Grim Marches are at war."

  "With who?" said Rachel. "The lords of the High Plain? Or did Lord Richard turn on Mazael?" That thought filled her with fear. She knew well the ruthlessness of Richard Mandragon. If he had decided Mazael was an enemy...

  "No," said Gerald. "Worse. Malrags."

  Sarah looked up, frowning, and then looked away again.

  For a moment Rachel did not recognize the word.

  "Malrags?" she said at last. "No, no, that's...impossible. Malrags are only a story, a myth, like..."

  "Like the San-keth?" said Gerald, and Rachel fell silent. "Mazael writes that Malrag warbands have been raiding the Grim Marches. One even tried to attack Cravenlock Town, though he destroyed them."

  "Of course he did," said Rachel, her mind numb. Malrags? First the San-keth, and then the Demonsouled wizard Simonian of Briault. Hadn't Castle Cravenlock already suffered enough? "It will take more than Malrag devils to defeat Mazael Cravenlock."

  "Undoubtedly," said Gerald. "But Mazael asks for aid. The Malrags have come down from the mountains in great numbers, and he and all the lords of the Grim Marches are hard-pressed. I am of a mind to take a thousand men and ride to his aid, if Father and Tobias approve." He sighed. "If they approve."

  "Why would they not?" said Rachel. "Mazael is their kinsman by marriage now. Theirs, and yours."

  "True," said Gerald. "But he is also the vassal of Richard Mandragon. Father has never forgiven Lord Richard for Belifane's death, even after all these years. I fear Father would rather watch the Grim Marches burn than to lift a finger to aid Richard Mandragon."

  "How can he think that?" said Rachel with a sudden flare of temper. "He wouldn't be aiding Lord Richard, he would be aiding Mazael. Mazael, who defeated the Dominiars and conquered Tumblestone in your father's name. Mazael, who won the great tournament before our wedding, And Mazael defeated Amalric Galbraith, destroyed the Dominiars, and saved Knightcastle! How could Lord Malden refuse to aid him?"

  "Father is...rather firm in his views, I fear," said Gerald. "He greatly respects Mazael, but he hates Lord Richard even more. And Lord Richard is utterly ruthless, as you know better than I, my love. If I ride to Mazael's aid with a thousand men, Lord Richard might decide that I am a threat, or that Mazael is siding with Lord Malden against him. And if he does, he will turn against Mazael and do his utmost to kill me. Richard Mandragon is not a man to provoke."

  "But Mazael needs our help," said Rachel. "He is my brother! To stand by and do nothing while he and his lands are in peril...it would be shameful, Gerald."

  "I know," said Gerald. "I will speak with Father and Tobias again tomorrow. We will find a way to send aid to Mazael, I promise you. Even if I must hire mercenaries out of my own pocket and sent them to the Grim Marches, Mazael will have our help."

  "Do you promise?" said Rachel, and regretted it at once. It was the plea of a querulous child, and she was a married woman with a son.

  "I promise," said Gerald. "Mazael is your brother, but I was his squire. He trained me at the sword and lance and horse. I will not refuse him aid, not now, not ever." He smiled. "Besides, you said it yourself. Who better to fight the Malrags than Mazael? By the time we send him aid, he may well have defeated the Malrags utterly."

  "I hope you are right," said Rachel.

  But the fear gnawed at her nonetheless.

  Chapter 5 - Calibah

  "Sir Gerald and I will retire for the night," said Lady Rachel, turning towards the door of the bedroom she shared with Lord Malden's youngest son. "Please fetch me when Aldane wakes up. He'll be hungry."

  The woman who called herself Sarah of Castle Town gripped her skirts and did a quick curtsy.

  For Sarah of Castle Town was not her real name. Her true name was Sykhana, of Karag Tormeth, the high temple of the great god Sepharivaim, lord of the San-keth race. One of the San-keth archpriests had given her that name, on the day she had survived the brutal training given to all calibah, to the changelings. How proud she had been then, how filled with zeal for Sepharivaim, how eager to win glory and power for the master race of the San-keth.
r />   But the fire of her zeal had long ago turned to ash, and Sykhana cared nothing for Sepharivaim or the San-keth race.

  "Of course, my lady," said Sykhana. "It shall be as you say."

  Rachel smiled and gave Sykhana a quick hug. "You have been a great help to me, Sarah, since Aldane was born. And before, too. Why, I don't know what I should have done without you."

  "You honor me, my lady," said Sykhana.