[Demonworld #1] Demonworld

by Kyle B. Stiff

  Maxil laughed, a strangely boyish gesture for one who acted like a tiny old man full of worries and calculations. Wodan was struck by the fact that so many adults were now completely dependent on the competency of a child. Going off the beaten path had taken them to a strange place, indeed.

  “Maxil, how did you get to be a captain, when you’re so young?”

  “I’ve always spent time on Bilch’s ships. I used to sneak away from him and stowaway right before a trading run. I’d hang out with the captain, the crew, and they liked me ’cause I was pretty quick, I’d say mean stuff that everyone thought was funny. I’ve been to Tulla… I’ve even been as far east as Kurgheim. The captains always watched out for me, because they knew there’d be trouble with Filius if something happened to me. That’s how I learned it all. Learned how to navigate using the stars, learned the secret of longitude, all the uses of a ship’s components, and how to not take any shit from any lazy bastards.”

  Maxil bent to study something on the small table before him. In the warm, pale light from the cabin, Wodan could see several old maps, faded ink on yellowed paper crowded with detailed diagrams.

  “How can you make heads or tails of all that?” said Wodan, glancing from the detailed maps to the featureless sea.

  “It all makes perfect sense,” said Maxil. “Just takes time.”

  Maxil tapped an island on the map, a wide place ringed with forbidding mountains. Wodan nodded. They had repeated this ritual many times.

  “People haven’t been this far north in years,” said Maxil. “All captains know the coast. They have to, to get slaves and goods back and forth between the towns. It’s the only way to travel that the demon doesn’t seem to mind. But we never venture too far out. Now, this little island, on this very, very old map…”

  “That has to be it,” said Wodan. “You’ll see how perfect it is. If anyone ever sailed near it, they wouldn’t be able to tell that the island was occupied. They wouldn’t have even bothered landing; there’s nothing of value to see but rock, hard rock, with no value or mercy.”

  “Sounds great,” said Maxil. “I can’t wait to see it.”

  Wodan laughed and clapped the boy on the shoulder. He strolled to the front and sat on the very edge. The sun was rising in a beam of fire and the darkness rolled away.

  I’ve come so far, he thought. Lost so many friends and come so far on a journey I never would have thought possible before.

  Then his heart darkened. He knew there was one thing left to do before his journey finally came to its end. He had avoided it until now, but there was not much time left. There was one terrible thing left to confront, and only he could do it.

  Tonight, he thought. I’ll get it over with tonight.

  * * *

  That night, the people opened up a few bottles of booze that Ferge had tucked away in their supplies. They danced with lit torches and sang the old songs of their peoples. Many of them ground up whatever they could find for pigment and applied the tribal colors that they had lost during their long trek through the wasteland. They no longer had their shamans or remembered all of the old rites, but the elders directed things as best they could. Soon Brad was covered in blue spirals and Rachek danced with yellow and orange lightning bolts down her arms.

  Wodan danced with his friends, but did not drink. After a while he sat apart from his friends for a long time, then finally rose and left them. He went into the dark hold beneath the deck.

  Agmar sat on an upturned bucket near one of the empty stalls. Wodan smiled as he approached and said, “Old man, why aren’t you at the party with the others?”

  “Well, I-”

  It was as far as he got before Wodan was on him. Wodan gripped his arm and pushed him into the stall, knocking him off balance. Agmar pushed against him with one bony arm and clung to a low rafter with another. “Hey, now!” Agmar shouted. “What are you, queer or somethin’?”

  Wodan’s mask of rage silenced him at once. In one motion Wodan jerked open Agmar’s robe and tore his shirt – revealing a mound of scar tissue in the shape of a circle with a line through the center.

  Agmar leaned against the wall, gulping in panic, while Wodan studied the self-inflicted wound.

  “How?” Agmar whispered. “How did you know?”

  Agmar looked into Wodan’s eyes. Cold, green, merciless diamonds. Agmar had seen traces of cruelty in the boy before. He knew that Wodan could do anything to him and no one would waste a tear for an old, worn-out Ugly.

  “How did you know?” Agmar repeated. “Did I counsel against rebelling one time too many? Did I know too many things about the Ugly? Was it when Jarl mentioned my family and I tried to cover it up, was that what gave it away? Was it because I took the book?”

  “Shut up,” Wodan said quietly. “You know that I could kill you, or have you killed by the others, and that scar would justify my actions in their eyes. And you know I could do it, too, old man.” Wodan’s face was immobile, a death-mask, terrifying in the darkness of the stall. Agmar choked back tears. “Answer my question. And if you give me anything but complete honesty – it’ll be your life. Understand?”

  “Okay, okay.”

  “Why? Why bother coming with us if you were one of them?”

  Agmar laughed hysterically, unable to control himself. “I guess you think I planned on lighting a fire in the crow’s nest to give away your position! You probably think a thousand Ugly are sailing right behind us, just waiting to catch us, eh? But it’s not what you think it-”

  Wodan jerked Agmar to the other side of the stall and slammed him into the wall. “Don’t tell me what I think!” said Wodan. “Answer me!”

  Agmar’s laugh ended in a sob. Finally he spoke. “Have you ever heard of a ‘Judas goat’? A Judas goat’s job is to gain the trust of a herd of sheep and then lead them into the slaughterhouse. That was my job, Wodan. I was supposed to keep everyone calm, keep everyone peaceful, keep everyone walking forward… until we reached Sunport. The Ugly are smart, Wodan, they’re so smart. They’re manipulators, you know. Masters at getting what they want from people. If you put a chain on someone, they fight back. If you point a gun at someone, they’ll back down, and then wait for you to turn your back and then kill you. But if you look clean and knowledgeable and act like you’re one of them, and then try to make it look like doing something they wouldn’t normally do is actually their own idea, and in their own interest… they’ll go along.”

  “That guy Hari,” said Wodan, “the one who convinced so many of the others not to fight back. Was he working with the Ugly, too?”

  “No,” said Agmar. “He definitely has it in his blood, though. Some people are just natural cowards, Wodan. They don’t have to be coerced to give in.” Agmar paused, then continued. “I really did travel around a lot, long ago. I know that’s rare… but I hated growing up in Pontius. I didn’t care about joining in my family’s business, not until I was too old for adventuring. Running a business in Pontius is hard, Wodan. It’s really hard. It killed my father and then, well, I was in charge. And I didn’t know what the hell I was doing. I could never get ahead. Never. I had to pay taxes to the Law but, even worse than that, I had to pay protection money to the Coil.

  “You know who the Coil are? They run a protection racket. And they’re one of the biggest gangs in Pontius. They extort money out of everyone… everyone, Wodan. Well, I couldn’t put up with it. I was barely getting by as it was. So I stood up to them. I stood up to them, Wodan! When nobody else would do it! I gave the Smiths an enormous sum of money and bought a gun. I watched out for those Coil punks and I told them to stay away from my shop.

  “Of course, they burned it down. Everything our family had was invested in that place… and they destroyed it. Then they disappeared. I couldn’t find them, not anywhere. All I had was a stupid, worthless gun, and I couldn’t even find the punks that ruined my life! My family fell apart after that. I haven’t seen my wife or my uncles in years. I have no idea if they’re alive o
r dead.

  “That’s why I did it, boy. That’s why I went to the Ugly in the first place. I wanted revenge. At first they told me I had nothing they wanted. Finally I begged, on my hands and knees. I prayed to them on my hands and knees. Finally they said they could use my experience from travelling in the wasteland. They told me I could be their Judas goat. They made me brand myself. That was how they made me one of them. And with my scar, well… not that the Law would have helped in the first place, I wasn’t rich or anything, but after that, it was out of the question. So… I did it. I helped the Left Arm of the Ugly haul a bunch of slaves to Pontius. When the slaves thought about revolting, I talked them out of it. I was the voice of reason… I was a traitor.

  “The Ugly held true on their end, though, I’ll give them that. When I got back to Pontius, they pulled me aside and showed me the heads of the Coil punks that tried to extort my family’s money. There they were… six kids, their mouths open, their eyes rolled back. They were dead. One more chapter in the endless war between the Coil and the Ugly.”

  Agmar was silent for a long time. “Well?” said Wodan. “You got your revenge. You got what you wanted. So then, why did you…”

  “Oh, Wodan,” said Agmar, his face screwed up in anguish. “Wodan, boy, I did it the second time… with you guys… I did it for money.”

  Wodan growled and put his hands around the old man’s throat. Agmar cried out, “What else was I supposed to do? I was an old man! The Coil took everything I had! Was I gonna be a common laborer at my age? Who would hire me? Was I going to go live in the wasteland? Or go live with some primitive tribe, after what I’d done? I had to do it one more time, Wodan! They promised me… they promised they’d give me enough money to retire! If only I’d do it one more time, I’d never have to do anything like that ever again…”

  Agmar fell into a crumpled heap, crying, his body shaking. Wodan stood over him, unmoving.

  There was loud movement on the stairs at the far end of the room. “I have to pee!” a woman shouted. “I can tell someone’s down there!”

  Wodan was silent.

  That’s Rachek, Agmar thought. This is it, then.

  “I’m ready,” Agmar said quietly. “You can tell her. You guys can do to me… what I should have done to myself already.” He looked up at Wodan, then said, “I don’t mind.”

  “I can’t see down there and it’s creepy!” Rachek shouted. “Somebody better help me down these stairs!”

  “You asked earlier,” said Wodan, “how I knew what you were. It wasn’t all those things you mentioned. I knew what you were because I could see that you were a decent man, but it was plain to me that you hated yourself. It was written on your face before I saw it on your chest.”

  Wodan moved to leave the stall, then said quietly, “I’ll keep your secret. We’re not going to kill you. You had plenty of chances to sell us out to the Ugly, but you didn’t. You came with us instead. That’s what’s important.” Wodan turned away from him, then cried out, “It’s me, Rachek! I’ll help you.”

  Wodan walked to the stairs and Agmar rushed from the stall, then shouted, “Why show mercy, Wodan? Why leave yourself vulnerable like that? You’ve already shown you’re willing to do anything to get what you want!”

  “Because we’re not in the wasteland anymore,” said Wodan, smiling. “We’re free.”

  “Oh, Wodan!” said Rachek, swaying on the stairs, drunk. “You’re going to help me! My hero! You’re my hero Wodi!” She leaned on Wodan, then both of them laughed as they made their way to an area suitable for a good piss. “It’s so creepy though!”

  “Nothing to be scared of down here,” said Wodan.

  Agmar listened to Rachek ramble on about Wodan being her hero, then left them to rejoin their friends on the deck.

  * * *

  There came a day when the air crackled with excitement, a shining tension that had everyone smiling uncontrollably. Their little captain walked about winking and laughing, unusually lax in his duties. Occasionally the others saw him consulting the maps with Agmar, both of them giggling like children.

  Then it happened. Maxil pointed and screamed; mop handles clattered to the floor as everyone rushed to join him at the fore. Wild cheering and hysterical weeping broke out, for there in the distance, between shining sea and brilliant sky, lay a tiny black dot – their future home, the Island of Haven.

  Wodan leaned against two people, then brought them into double head-locks, then Brad wrapped his giant arms around all three and screamed with joy. Wodan saw tears streaming down Agmar’s face; the old man’s jaw worked lamely, unable to comprehend that he would soon arrive at a world far better than he had ever known. One large primitive with a Mohawk bore Rachek on his shoulders, and she lifted a fist and gave vent to a triumphant, trilling battle-cry.

  Within a few hours they could see sheer rock cliffs stabbing into the heavens. Dark, brooding clouds gathered about the peaks. Its beaches were narrow and completely invisible from this distance. While it seemed imposing, a terrible thing to call home, Wodan assured them all that this only added to the safety and seclusion they would find there.

  Once the wild joy settled into a warm buzz, Wodan found Brad sitting on the rear deck, scanning the southern reaches with a pair of binoculars.

  “You’re not on the lookout for Ugly, are you?” said Wodan.

  “We come this far,” said Brad, slowly lowering the binoculars. “No sense in slipping up this close to the end, you know?”

  “I wouldn’t worry about them anymore,” Wodan said, laughing gently. “It would make more sense for Barkus to just go back to the mountains, capture some more people, then guard them a little better than he guarded us. At this point, it would cost him too much to follow us. At heart, he’s just a businessman. A person like him will follow the course of least resistance. Can you imagine the amount of vindictiveness and hatred it would take to make him throw away all of his old plans and follow us all the way out here? As hard as it is to believe, I think it’s safe to say we’re now home free!”

  Brad nodded, then fixed his eyes on something. He raised a pair of binoculars. His mouth fell open in a slack, dumb O shape. Wodan looked and saw a plume of black smoke. He wrenched the binoculars away from Brad.

  There was an ironclad ship. Even at this distance, it seemed to cut through the water at an incredible rate. Cannons protruded from all sides of the small, deadly ship. There was a flag draped across its front, and the sight of it reawakened a hundred old fears in one sickening moment, for the black and purple flag bore in its center a scarred skull. The absurdity of the situation threatened to overwhelm Wodan, for he was looking directly into the face of something utterly stupid and inhumanly savage.

  The flag draped across the front of the ironclad ship was the standard of the Ugly.

  * * *

  A copy of a contract recently recorded and kept in the archives of the legal offices of Sunport:

  On this day, the twenty-ninth of Saturna, in the Season of our Lords which is the Dry season, let this deal of business be recognized by the court of Sunport as legal and binding, as guarantee that it be respected and held as binding by its agents and conducting partners.

  The deal is as follows: That Filius Bilch, representing himself, gives to Barkus Right-Arm, representing the Ugly, a legally recognized religious and business organization, the property of ONE STEAM-RUN BATTLESHIP and ONE SLAVE CAPTAIN and SOME AMOUNT of FOOD for the purpose of the destruction, or capture, of lost property. In exchange for these goods, Barkus Right-Arm promises the fulfillment of THREE WISHES by the organization which he represents. The nature of these wishes are to be dictated by Filius Bilch, under the condition that these wishes not be destructive to the well-being of the organization represented by Barkus Right-Arm.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Storming the Gates of Heaven

  Brad raised the alarm. Agmar heard the wails of frustration and rage as if they were very far away. He stared at the oncoming ironclad
ship and he knew that this was how the world ended; years of struggle with nothing to gain but a guilty conscience, a few days to relax and try to sort it all out, then a few moments of unexpected, mind-numbing terror as they were devoured by monsters within sight of the final goal. This time, Agmar did not bother to pray.

  Wodan rushed to Maxil and shouted, “Can you make this ship go any faster?”

  “It’s already going as fast as it can!” he said. “The only thing I can do is take us to our landing point by the most direct route. Other than that...”

  Wodan grabbed him by his shirt, dragged him to the front of the ship, and pointed to a bay between two mountains. “There’s a pass through the mountains there,” he said. “It’s only about ten miles from the beach to a checkpoint where we’ll be safe.”