Darkness Rising: Disciples of the Horned One Volume One (Soul Force Saga Book 1)

by James Wisher

  He nodded. “I’ll go check things out. Don’t worry, I won’t start the questioning until you’re ready.”

  Damien left and Lane rolled out of bed. She took several deep breaths, trying to bring herself under control. When she fantasized about having Damien visit her room this wasn’t what she had in mind. Lane shook out yesterday’s tunic and pants and slipped into them. She groped around under the bed for her boots then pulled them on. She didn’t bother washing up.

  She opened the connecting door and found Damien standing over three golden cocoons laying on his bed. He turned her way and smiled. “Ready?”

  Lane crossed the room and stood beside him. “Ready.”

  The energy covering the three men’s heads vanished and they started yelling. Lane winced at the noise, but Damien just watched them, cold and indifferent. A minute passed before they finally gave up and fell silent.

  “As you’ve no doubt realized, no one is coming to your rescue,” Damien said. “I’m going to ask you some questions. You’re going to answer me honestly. If you don’t, I’ll make you scream until your throats bleed.”

  The captive men went pale and Lane knew how they felt. Damien threatened them in such a matter-of-fact way it sent a chill down her spine. She didn’t think he was just saying it for effect either.

  Damien pointed at the first man and he flinched. “Let’s start with you. Who sent you to kill Lane?”

  The prisoner opened his mouth but nothing came out. Damien shook his head. “I’ve blocked the portion of your brain that controls lies. You’ll either speak the truth or you won’t speak at all. Who sent you?”

  The captive man clenched his jaw and remained silent.

  Damien sighed and turned to her. “Did you know a sorcerer can directly stimulate the pain receptors in a person’s brain, causing them extreme agony without resorting to cutting or breaking bones? I’ve never done it, but it looked simple enough. Of course, if I use too much power the subject’s head might explode, but we have spares and I’m sure I’ll get it right before I kill all of them.”

  Lane stared in growing horror at Damien. Why was he telling her all this? The last thing she wanted to know was how a sorcerer could best torture people. When one of the prisoners whimpered Damien winked at her. Lane released the breath she hadn’t known she was holding. He was just playing, trying to convince them to talk without hurting them.

  Damien turned his attention back to the prisoners. “So who wants to go first?”

  “Wait!” the center man said. “Sloan sent us. He’s in charge of the guards.”

  “Shut up!” the right-hand prisoner said. The cocoon wrapped his head up and he fell silent.

  “Keep talking,” Damien said.

  “Sloan said if the king’s envoy was killed while visiting one of the barons’ keeps the barons wouldn’t be able to back out. Since the poison didn’t work he sent us. We were going to kill you first then the girl.”

  Lane blanched at the casual way the prisoner said he was sent to kill her. Like it was no big deal. Maybe to him it wasn’t.

  “Who are you people?” Damien asked. “You’re obviously not kingdom men.”

  “The Bandit King sent us to keep an eye on the barons. Our master feared they lacked the spine to uphold the bargain they struck.”

  “What bargain?”

  “I don’t know the details. Our master offered them something in exchange for leaving the kingdom and swearing allegiance to him.”

  The bindings expanded to cover all the prisoners and Damien turned to Lane. “What do you make of that?”

  She shook her head. Lane didn’t know what to make of it. She now understood why they hadn’t made much effort at negotiating. The barons didn’t want a deal. They wanted her to give up and leave. “I don’t know and I can’t imagine what the bandits might have to offer the barons. I wasn’t under the impression they had a single ruler. Everything I’ve read says the bandits work in small groups that fight with each other as much as they raid us.”

  “That was my understanding as well. Perhaps the warlock that put the hellfire wards in their heads is this Bandit King. That, at least, would make some sort of sense.”

  “I suppose. What are we going to do now?” Lane knew she was in charge of this mission, but it had become clear to her that she was in way over her head.

  “First, I have to tell you something. Your mother didn’t just send me to protect you. My secondary mission was to eliminate the barons if they proved unwilling to see reason.”

  Anger flashed through Lane. Had her mother believed her incapable of resolving this matter or did she know about the bandits and used Lane as a way for Damien to get close to his targets without drawing undue attention? Either way she should have trusted Lane enough to tell her.

  “When were you planning on telling me?” Lane thought she managed to keep the resentment out of her voice.

  “My instructions were not to tell you until absolutely necessary. If the negotiations went well you were to never know about my mission. That was the result we were all hoping for.”

  “You should have told me.” Lane failed to keep the heat out of her voice.

  Damien shook his head. “Not my decision. The archmage thought this was the way to handle things. It’s hardly the place of a first-year sorcerer seven months out of the tower to question her.”

  Damien had a point, she knew that, but Lane needed someone to be angry with and Damien was here. “So what now? Are you going to go kill the barons?”

  “I suppose I could, but I’m curious about what the Bandit King offered them that would make them betray their country. Once I hear their answer I’ll decide whether to kill them for treason or not.”

  “What about them?” Lane jerked a thumb toward the cocooned assassins.

  “The bindings will hold them for a day or two. Once I understand what’s happening I can either leave them for the barons to deal with or execute them along with the traitors.”

  Lane stared in horror at him. “Just like that?”

  Damien nodded, seeming untroubled. “They’re murderers. As an agent of the king I’m well within my authority to execute them.”

  She remembered what he said as they left Allentown, about the ability to kill without hesitation or regret. Lane had thought he meant in battle, but now she realized it extended beyond that. She couldn’t comprehend his way of thinking. Damien didn’t seem to take any pleasure in killing, but he wasn’t shy about it either. It seemed a part of his life, as ordinary as cleaning his teeth or shaving and as unworthy of comment.

  The bound men floated off the top of the bed and flew under it, like bags being put under the bed for storage.

  “Let’s go talk to the barons,” Damien said.

  Lane couldn’t manage more than a mute nod.

  Chapter 37

  Damien left the bound men under his bed and turned to Lane. “I’ll turn us invisible. Stay close and keep quiet.”

  “What about the guards?”

  “They won’t be a problem.”

  Lane favored him with that horrified look again. You’d think he’d said he was going to drown kittens or something. Was she really so worried about a bunch of killers? How many people had these bandits murdered over the years? Yet she was looking at him like he was the bad guy.

  Damien scanned the hall outside and found the way clear. He wrapped them in invisibility and they slipped out into the hall. The barons’ chambers were in another section of the keep. With each step the hard soles of Lane’s boots clicked on the stone floor. No way they’d be able to sneak up on the guards at this rate.

  He stopped and Lane asked, “What’s wrong?”

  “Your boots are making too much noise.” He held out his hand. “Hang on.”

  She gripped his hand and Damien conjured a floating disk under them. Lane stumbled, but he caught her. When she’d settled in Damien willed the disk down the hall. They made no more noise than a whisper of wind.

  This late at
night even the servants slept, allowing Damien to zoom along the halls at a good clip. Several twists and turns later found them at the end of a long hall that branched left and right. Ten doors lined the far wall and a guard stood in front of each one. They reminded Damien more of jailers than protectors.

  He turned left and drifted to the last door. None of the guards reacted when they ghosted past. Damien studied the men in passing and soon realized they weren’t the same group he’d seen guarding the barons during the day. Those men were probably sleeping. That worked out well for Damien as none of the night guards were warlords.

  Damien wrapped the last guard in an invisible binding. The unfortunate young man couldn’t even twitch without Damien’s permission. He looked a little stiff, but unless one of the others came to talk to him he should pass inspection.

  With the guard bound and helpless, Damien conjured a screen between them and the remaining guards so they could work without fear of being spotted. Lane gave the door a tug and shook her head. Locked.

  That was no problem. A dark blob of energy the size of his finger appeared in the air and slid into the keyhole. Damien concentrated, shaping the key to the lock then twisting it. The tumblers snapped into place and they slipped through the open door.

  Inside, the baron’s room was pitch dark. Damien wrapped the room in a sound barrier then conjured a small light. Despite being in another section of the keep, the bedroom looked almost the same as Damien’s, though the bed was a little bigger and had four posters. There was also a small fireplace for really cold nights.

  A snoring heap of blubber lay sprawled on the bed, thankfully wearing a silk sleeping robe. Damien crossed his arms and stared at the man. “Which one is this?”

  Lane grimaced. “Baron Marris. I thought you were going to kill the guard.”

  “Why?”

  “You said—”

  “I said the guards wouldn’t be a problem, you assumed the rest.”

  She managed a weak smile. “I suppose I did. What now?”

  “Now we wake the disloyal turd and see what he has to say for himself.”

  Damien conjured a needle and stuck the baron in his giant ass. The man yelped and sat up. He spotted Damien and Lane and glowered. “How dare you enter my—”

  Damien silenced him with a soul force gag. “Baron, we know about your deal with the Bandit King. You’re going to provide me with details then I’ll decide if I should kill you or not. What did he offer you that made you betray your country?”

  Damien removed the invisible gag so the now-trembling man could answer.

  “Please. We didn’t have a choice. They took our families, my wife, my son, and two daughters. He said if I did what they wanted everyone would be returned. I ne—”

  The baron choked on whatever lie he was about to tell. The bit about his family, at least, was true. If the bandits had taken the barons’ families it explained a lot.

  “Trasker told me they left their wives and children at home because of the tension with the kingdom,” Lane said. “And I bought it.”

  “No reason you shouldn’t have. Under the circumstances it made a reasonable enough explanation. The real question is how did they grab the families, and where are they now? How about it, Baron? And don’t try to lie to me again.”

  Marris cleared his throat. “I don’t know where my family is and I don’t know who took them. I saw a man, at least I assume he was a man, with pale skin, and black lines running under his skin like overfull veins. His eyes were crimson pits. He came to my castle, landed right in the courtyard. My guards tried to stop him, but he swatted them away like insects. We tried everything—swords, axes, arrows—but nothing fazed him. He wrapped my family in a black bubble and said unless I did what he wanted I’d never see them in one piece again.”

  “What, exactly, did he want?” Lane asked.

  “He told me to leave the kingdom and swear allegiance to him. I said I needed to talk to the others and he gave us until our annual meeting to decide. My family has been gone for three months.”

  “That’s too simple,” Lane said. “The kidnapper had to know the king wouldn’t just let you leave the kingdom.”

  “Unless the king was dead.” The assassination attempt was starting to make more sense to Damien now. “If the assassin had succeeded it would have taken Karrie and her mother months to solidify their authority. By then who knows how many bandits might have crossed the border or how much damage they might have done.”

  Lane stared at him, her eyes wide.

  “Didn’t your mother tell you about the assassination attempt?”

  Lane shook her head. “Apparently a couple of things slipped Mother’s mind when she briefed me about this mission. What now?”

  “We need to talk to the rest of the barons and see if we can learn anything else. Where’s Trasker?”

  Marris chewed his lip. “The opposite end of the hall. Please, don’t let the guards know I talked. If word gets to the Bandit King my family’s dead.”

  “How are we going to sneak past the guards to see the other barons?” Lane asked.

  “I thought we’d take the direct route.”

  Damien pointed at the connecting wall and a golden beam lanced out from his finger. He sliced a disk out of the wall, pulled it out, and leaned it beside the hole. “See, no problem.”

  Damien and Lane visited the next eight barons and received almost identical stories. Their families had been taken and unless they did what they were told they’d be killed.

  Before he approached the last wall Damien turned to Lane. “What do you think Trasker will have to say? He’s the one that was supposed to have hired the assassin.”

  “If he was willing to leave the kingdom to keep his family safe I see no reason he wouldn’t hire an assassin if so ordered.”

  “I suppose. Well, he can tell us himself in a second.”

  Damien sliced through the wall just as he had all the others. Trasker lay sleeping in his oversized bed. Lane was starting toward him when shouts sounded from out in the hall. Sounded like someone was raising the alarm. Damien poured power into the sound barrier changing it into a solid wall. That would keep the barons safe.

  The door to Trasker’s room burst open and a pair of guards charged in, their swords drawn. Damien wrapped them in golden cocoons. The guards fell to the floor, completely immobilized.

  The baron sat up, sputtering. “What’s going on here?”

  Damien gagged him with a band of soul force. The baron mumbled unintelligibly and pawed at his mouth.

  When no more enemies presented themselves Damien walked to the door and poked his head out. The hall was empty. Where’d the other guards go? Even the one he bound had disappeared.

  Chapter 38

  Damien raced back through the barons’ rooms. Everyone was huddled in their beds just as he left them, all except Marris. The fat tub of goo was gone. He must have been the one that alerted the guards. The question was why. Damien couldn’t imagine, but he hoped some of his prisoners could tell him.

  He rejoined Lane in Trasker’s room. The baron sat on the edge of his bed holding his head in his hands, a heavy dressing gown around his shoulders. “Marris is gone,” Damien said.

  Trasker looked up. “Of course he is. Marris belonged to the bandits long before this most recent assault. We could never prove anything, but we all suspected he allowed the bandits to slip across the border in exchange for a cut of their loot and a promise not to raid in his territory.”

  “It didn’t occur to you to mention this to someone in the capital?” Lane sounded as outraged as Damien felt.

  “We had no proof!” Trasker ground his teeth. “Without something solid it would have been an empty accusation. Marris would have brushed it off as nothing but envy on our part.”

  The man had a point, Damien had to concede that. Still, if the barons had at least mentioned their suspicions, agents of the crown could have kept an eye on Marris and tried to find proof.

 
; The other barons gathered in the opening Damien had cut in the wall to listen in.

  “Did you hire the assassin that tried to murder the king?” Damien asked.

  “Yes.” Trasker’s head slumped into his hands again. “If I hadn’t done it someone else would have. That pale monster threatened to send me my daughter’s left foot if I refused.”

  “I don’t suppose you know where your family is?” Damien asked.

  Trasker gave a mute shake of his head.

  “Marris might know,” one of the barons in the other room said. “Or Sloan, the head guard.”

  Damien gestured and one of the bound guards floated upright. A quick search revealed the hellfire ward in the same place as the men that broke into their room. He neutralized the ward and caused the cocoon around the bandit’s head to vanish, revealing a terrified face.

  “Where did Marris and the rest run off to?” Damien asked.

  The bandit opened his mouth, but no sound emerged when he tried to lie. Damien conjured a pair of blades and set them spinning a few feet from the man’s head. “You’d better tell me or I’m going to slice your face off.”

  The bandit trembled. “South, half a day or so’s ride there’s a farm where we stashed horses and supplies, just in case. That’s where they’ll go before they head for the badlands.”

  “Thank you.” Damien flung the man up against the wall. His head bounced off the stone with a dull thud and he slumped to the ground.

  Damien turned to Lane. “I need to go after them. If you don’t feel safe with the barons I can barricade you in your room until I return.”

  Lane looked at the huddled, frightened men. “I’ll be okay here. Go.”

  Damien ran out the door, pausing long enough to seal the barrier and pour enough power into it to make it last until he got back or a day passed. He’d swing by the suite he shared with Lane and renew the binding on the three would-be assassins and the servant girl. Lane would be safe enough as long as she could handle the barons. Judging from the looks on their faces they wouldn’t give her any trouble.