DemonWars Saga Volume 1

by R. A. Salvatore

  The reason given for the increase in security was the deaths of both Abbot Dobrinion and Baron Bildeborough. But from what Elbryan had told her, and everything she had witnessed of De'Unnero, and everything Jojonah had told her, she knew De'Unnero knew the Church had been intimately involved as well in the murder of Baron Bildeborough. This made it clear to Pony that De'Unnero was using the fear of the Palmaris populace only to increase his power. He was using the murders as an excuse to solidify his own position.

  Pony thought about the implications of De'Unnero's new title for a long while. Church and state power united in one man. Seeing the soldiers working with the monks now at the ferry sent a shiver along her spine.

  When about half the travelers were allowed to enter Palmaris but the other half put back on the boat to return to Amvoy, the soldiers and monks turned their attention elsewhere. On their way off the docks, they paused long enough to taunt and heckle, even spit at, a group of Behrenese youngsters who were playing a game on a street. The southern dock section of Palmaris had been an enclave for the Behrenese for many decades. In all the years Pony had lived in Palmaris, the Behrenese, even the yatol priests, had been viewed with compassion and brotherhood by the city's folk, particularly by the monks of St. Precious, who would often be seen down by the docks with armloads of food and clothing, helping any new Behrenese arrivals settle comfortably in the strange city.

  How the times had changed! But it wasn't just the poor folk living by the docks, or the less-connected travelers trying to get into the city who were having trouble with the new policies.

  Pony made her way quickly across Palmaris, into the hilly section on the city's west side where the wealthier citizens resided. In the Way the night before, one of Belster's contacts had mentioned some strange happenings in this area, something Pony had just confirmed when she'd overheard a man at the ferry dock.

  It didn't take Pony long to see what Belster's informant and the man at the docks were talking about. She saw a group of about a dozen city soldiers and three Abellican monks walking boldly down the middle of Bildeborough Way, the main avenue in this section of Palmaris. Fortunately, Pony saw them before they spotted her, and ducked behind a hedgerow — which were quite common in this wealthy part of the city. Hardly daring to breathe, Pony berated herself for coming here physically instead of simply using her soul stone and spiritually spying on the region.

  Then as the group neared, she realized one of the monks was using a red gemstone.

  "Garnet," she whispered under her breath. Garnet, the Dragon Sight, the stone used to detect the emanations of magic. This group was out in search of magic stones!

  Pony watched as they stopped at a gate, one of the soldiers slapping his metal gauntlet against the large entry bell. A pair of house guards appeared almost immediately. Within seconds, the sound of the exchange became loud enough that Pony, though she was several doors away, could make out the words.

  "We'll not stand here and argue with mere merchant bodyguards," the soldier who had slapped the bell declared. "Open wide the gate, by order of the bishop of Palmaris, or we shall trample it down, and trample, too, any who stand before us."

  "And do not think that your master will protect you with his tricks of magic," another soldier interjected. "We have brothers of St. Precious with us who are more than able to defeat any such attacks."

  A bit more prodding, a bit more yelling, and finally the house guards opened the gate. They asked that only one or two men enter to speak with their master, but the whole group shoved past them. They emerged a few minutes later, a middle-aged man in a rich robe in their midst. One of the monks caught Pony's attention, for he was holding a large headdress —a crown of sorts—set with many glittering gemstones.

  She realized that some of those stones must have magical properties, for she had heard that merchants often bought stones from the Church and, using alchemists and other stones, converted them into magical items. This merchant's crown no doubt carried strong magical energy, and that, she believed, was what had led the group to his door. Glad indeed was Pony that she had not come out here spiritually!

  The group went past —and Pony breathed easier—heading west down the wide street in the direction of Chasewind Manor, formerly the home of the ruling Bildeborough family but now, by all accounts, the residence of Abbot—Bishop De'Unnero.

  "So strange," Pony whispered to herself as she made her way back to the more crowded central areas of the city. She told herself that there might be many reasons De'Unnero would seek out magic use in this dangerous time so soon after the end of the war and so soon after the deaths of the two former city leaders. But she suspected the search through the city had another quarry.

  The Bishop was looking for her.

  * * *

  "Cousin, if you are wise —though I know that you are not—you will dismiss your anger before we arrive at Chasewind Manor," Shamus Kilronney said to Colleen. The two hadn't even passed through the northern gate of Palmaris when some of the sentries had begun blabbering about the many changes that had taken place in the city. Shamus and Colleen had gone straight off to St. Precious to speak with the new abbot, but they had been turned away and pointedly told to return to their assigned quarters and await a summons.

  Then came the long wait, and it was all that Shamus could handle merely keeping Colleen in check. As each rumor filtered out to them —the abbot had been appointed Bishop, which gave him all the powers of abbot and baron; the man had taken up residence at Chasewind Manor; Colleen's soldiers were being used as escorts for missions of the Church—both Shamus and Colleen became more and more uneasy. For Colleen in particular, still upset by the death of her beloved Baron, this new turn of events was almost more than she could take.

  Finally, more than a week after their return to Palmaris, the pair was summoned to Chasewind Manor, to report to Bishop Marcalo De'Unnero. They were met in the courtyard by a host of monks. There they waited for more than an hour. Other prominent soldiers filtered in, and then came a great carriage, which Shamus recognized as one of the King's own. The captain didn't know the names of the two men who stepped out, but he did know that they were from the court of King Danube, important emissaries indeed.

  They strode past the group outside without a word, not even a nod to the Kingsmen captain.

  "And how long do ye mean to keep us waitin'?" Colleen asked loudly before the men had entered the house. They simply ignored her, and so did the monks. In fact, the only response she received came from her nervous cousin.

  "They will keep us waiting as long as it suits the noblemen," Shamus scolded. "You do not understand our place in this or the potential punishments if we do not hold to that place."

  "Bah." Colleen snorted. "Ye'd have me bowin' and beggin'. Yes sir and no sir, and might I wipe the spit from yer chin, sir?"

  "You do not understand the nobility."

  "Been servin' the Baron for ten years," Colleen argued.

  "But Rochefort Bildeborough was a man of Palmaris, not of the court of Danube Brock Ursal," Shamus warned. "These nobles will have your respect, or they will have your tongue —or worse!"

  Colleen spat on the ground, very near the foot of the closest monk. She looked around at her fellow soldiers, many of whom had been house guards for the Bildeborough family, and took comfort in their grim expressions, understanding that they, too, were not pleased. All of them had served Rochefort Bildeborough for years; all of them had come to respect and even love the man as their leader.

  A monk came out the front doors of the manor house, a scroll in hand. "Shamus Kilronney," he called. "Captain of the Kingsmen. And Colleen Kilronney of the city guard."

  "Beware your treasonous temper," Shamus whispered as he and Colleen strode toward the man.

  "And if I cannot control it, cousin, I'm sure ye'll cut me down," she replied with a snarl. "I'm just hopin' that I can get the imposter's head afore ye do!"

  Shamus glared angrily at her.

  "Ye just wa
tch me do it," she said stubbornly, as if daring him to betray her.

  The point proved moot, and Shamus breathed a bit easier, because inside the house, they were accosted by a group of armed soldiers —who were not known to Colleen—and many grim-faced Abellican monks who demanded their weapons. Shamus readily complied, for he knew only specially assigned guards were allowed any weapons at the King's court. Colleen slapped away one monk's hand as he reached for her weapon, then she drew out her sword threateningly. The monk jumped back into a fighting stance and several soldiers put their hands to sword hilts.

  But Colleen only smiled and laughed, and flipped her weapon over, catching it at mid-blade and handing it over.

  "I'll not fight on your side," Shamus warned quietly as they were escorted to the audience room.

  "And ye're thinkin' that I'm not already knowin' as much?" Colleen replied dryly.

  The audience room was large, but it did not seem so to the two, for many monks and soldiers and visiting nobles and merchants all clustered about, eyes aimed at the young, strong Bishop. Many heads did turn to glance without interest at the two soldiers, Shamus in his splendid Kingsmen dress and Colleen in her weathered traveling outfit.

  "I do say, it is not difficult to discern which of these two comes from the court of the King," said one of the visiting Ursal nobles with a sniff.

  The Bishop waved at the man to be quiet, locking stares with Shamus and then with Colleen.

  The man was impressive, Colleen had to admit, his stare strong and intense. This first meeting quickly became a contest of wills, the two staring, unblinking, as many moments slipped past.

  Finally, Bishop De'Unnero dropped his eyes to regard the Kingsman. "You are Shamus Kilronney?" he asked. "Captain Kilronney?"

  The man straightened his shoulders. "I am, sir."

  "Very good," said De'Unnero. "You have been told of my appointed position?"

  Shamus nodded.

  "And do you, both of you," he added quickly, glancing back at Colleen, "understand the meaning of my title?"

  "I'm thinkin' that it means there be no more Bildeboroughs," Colleen remarked, drawing an elbow in the ribs from Shamus. But De'Unnero only laughed.

  "Indeed there are not," he said with a chuckle. "Nor were any others deemed worthy of the position. Thus, I serve both the King and Father Abbot now, as baron and abbot —bishop, by title."

  "We have been informed, Bishop De'Unnero," Shamus said quickly, before Colleen could offer any more sarcasm.

  "And since the city is in such disarray, King Danube has deemed it necessary to lend me a contingent of his soldiers," the Bishop explained.

  "I understand," Shamus replied, then followed with the standard, accepted line of obedience. "And, of course, my men and I are at your complete disposal."

  "Of course," the Bishop echoed. "And what of you, Colleen Kilronney? I have heard many of the guards here at Chasewind Manor speak highly of you. Of course, I have also heard many whisper that Colleen Kilronney would not be in good spirits when she returned from the north to discover the changes in her city."

  Colleen's eyes widened, surprised that the new bishop had so bluntly put that out on the table. She started to answer, but De'Unnero stopped her.

  "I understand your anger," he said. "I have been told that none were more loyal to Baron Rochefort Bildeborough. Of course that sentiment will carry over for some time after his death. I applaud such loyalty." He leaned forward in his chair, so that only she, and perhaps Shamus, could hear. "But I will not tolerate any disloyalty to your beloved Baron's successor."

  Colleen's eyes narrowed dangerously as De'Unnero eased back. Again the two locked stares —and this time, it was Colleen who finally backed down.

  "I will require a full accounting of your travels up north," De'Unnero went on, never taking his imposing stare from the warrior woman. "Unfortunately, at this time, I have other matters to attend."

  "We will return when you summon us," Shamus replied and started to bow, thinking it was time to take their leave.

  "No, you will stay and you will wait," De'Unnero corrected. He motioned to one of the monks. "Find them a place, a side room somewhere," the Bishop instructed absently.

  "Ye sure 'twas on that eye?" Dainsey Aucomb asked for the third time, reaching out again to adjust Pony's eyepatch.

  "The right eye," Pony replied with a sigh, growing impatient. Pony worked hard to hide that frustration. Dainsey wasn't the brightest-burning torch in the room, but the disguise had been her idea and her doing, and it alone allowed Pony free run of Fellowship Way. Besides, Dainsey had been a loyal worker for Graevis and Pettibwa, a daughter of sorts, filling the void that had been left in their lives when Pony had been sent into the army by Abbot Dobrinion as punishment for her attack against her husband, Connor Bildeborough. And, more recently, Dainsey had proven to be a great help to Belster, had willingly given him control of the tavern —left in her care when the Chilichunks had been abducted by the Church—and had stayed on without complaint to help Belster operate the business.

  So Pony, for all her frustration and fear, took extra care not to let any hint of her anger out.

  "The right one, ye say? " Dainsey asked, honestly perplexed.

  "Thought it was the left eye," came Belster's voice, as the portly innkeeper entered the room.

  Pony turned a one-eyed glare his way, and saw the jovial man smiling wider than usual —and that became a belly chuckle when Dainsey stubbornly reached for the eye patch.

  "Right eye," Pony said firmly, pushing Dainsey's hand away. She was more frustrated with Belster than with the woman, for she knew the innkeeper was only teasing her. She turned her gaze from Belster, for her obvious distress was only making him smile all the wider, and looked directly at Dainsey, pointedly grabbing the woman's wrist and pulling her arm down.

  "Right eye, then," Dainsey at last agreed. "Yer own skinny neck, it is. Ye let me get ye some more powder, though. Can't be havin' any o' that golden hair o' yers shinin' through!"

  The mere mention of the gray powder sent Pony's hand up to scratch at her temple, then to run her hand back through her thick mane. She knew that Dainsey was right. With Dainsey's help, she went into the Way each night as Belster's wife, Caralee dan Aubrey O'Comely, padded and frumpy, and fully twenty years older than Jilseponie Ault.

  "Any information?" Pony asked.

  "Nothing important," Belster replied. "It is as if our friend Roger Lockless walked into the damned Masur Delaval." The innkeeper gave a frustrated shake of his head, then paused, waiting until Dainsey left. "And what of these soldiers?" Belster asked quietly. "You are certain that they were looking for the gemstones?"

  "If not, then why have monks accompanying them?" Pony replied. "And the monks were using garnet, the stone also known as Dragon Sight because it bestows on its user the power to detect magic."

  "But the gemstones have to be in use for such detection?" Belster asked nervously.

  Pony nodded and the portly innkeeper breathed a sigh of relief. "And I've not used any since my return," she added. "Brother Avelyn once told me that many merchants have purchased gemstones from the Church."

  "And now the Bishop's taking them back," Belster reasoned.

  "That may be part of it," Pony agreed. "But he is looking for the gemstones, mostly because finding them may lead him to the friends of Avelyn Desbris."

  "That I do not doubt," said Belster, "though it may be more than an extension of the search for you and Nightbird. I am not liking much the rumbling I am hearing from St. Precious —or from Chasewind Manor, since that is where the new bishop has taken up residence."

  Dainsey returned then, singing a happy tune —and Pony wished that she still had such melodies within her—and the two went quiet. A bit of powder, a bit of grayish paste on Pony's fair face, and the woman stepped back to admire her work.

  "Belster's wife?" Pony asked, hopping from the stool and turning slowly, arms out that they might regard her fully.

  "H
o, but I like you better the other way!" Belster said with a wry laugh —a laugh that was cut short by a knock on the door.

  "Soldiers in the Way," came the hushed call of Heathcomb Mallory, another friend from the northland who worked in the Way on those few nights he was not drinking there.

  "You are certain that you did not use the stones?" Belster asked again, moving toward the door. Dainsey joined him, and the two left the room, but Pony only peeked out.

  The Way bustled with a large crowd this night, as it did almost every night, but the innkeeper had no trouble in picking out the soldiers. Not only were they in their full military dress, he noted, but they carried swords at their hips. Belster immediately moved to the corner of the long bar closest to the three and started wiping it down, painting a wide smile on his face. "Gentlemen!" he called. "Rare it is that we see our protectors in here. Too rare, I say! Name your pleasure; the treat is the Way's to give!"

  One of the soldiers smacked his lips and leaned on the bar. He started to speak, but another man dropped an arm across his chest to cut him short. "No pleasure," the second soldier said, "not this night."

  If the first man had any intention of arguing, he dropped it when a monk of St. Precious pushed through the crowd, coming between the three soldiers to stand facing Belster.

  "You are O'Comely?" the monk asked bluntly.

  "Belster O'Comely," the innkeeper replied, sounding cheerful as usual, though the lack of respect from this man barely half his age made Belster grit his teeth.

  "And how did you acquire this tavern?" the monk asked. "Were you acquainted with the previous owners?"

  Before Belster could respond, Dainsey came strutting by. "I give it to 'im," she declared. "And it was mine for givin', since all accounts say that the Chilichunks won't be comin' back anytime soon."

  The monk studied Dainsey carefully, then turned to glance at the three soldiers.

  "Oh, don't ye go thinkin' that way!" Dainsey protested. "I already been taked to yer jail three times. How many times ye got to hear that I'm not the woman what stole the stinkin' stones?"