The Heavenly Host (Demons of Astlan Book 2)

by J. Langland

  “Hey!” Rupert said. “We meet again.”

  “Yeah.” The D’Orc suddenly looked very nervous and uncomfortable. “I’m sorry for running like that. I have shamed myself and my lineage.”

  “Don’t worry about that!” Rupert said, making a waving motion. “Given how things worked out, your running and alerting everyone was the best option. If you’d stood and fought, well…”

  “I’d be dead,” the D’Orc said morosely.

  “Well, I’d hope not. You’re a kid like me, right?” Rupert asked.

  The D’Orc nodded somberly. “I’m Fer-Rog, son of Zelda, and I have ten Abyssal years.”

  “Cool!” Rupert said, sticking out his hand. “I’m Rupert, you know my dad too, and I’m, well… I don’t know, about twelve Astlanian years, roughly. I don’t know what that is in Abyssal years.”

  Fer-Rog stared suspiciously at the hand for a moment and then awkwardly shook it.

  “Your mom is the Steward of the Mount?” Rupert asked; Fer-Rog nodded his head. “Then we should definitely hang out, as I’m sure your mom and my dad will be working together a lot.” Rupert paused for a moment. “Who is your dad?”

  Fer-Rog frowned. “My sire was Ser-Rog of the Bear Clan of Verasai.”

  “Was?” Rupert asked, concerned.

  Fer-Rog nodded. “He fell in combat during the last raid of the Lilith Spawn, a few days before my birth. He died trying save the life of my grandfather, Trogthor, the Steward of the Mountain. Neither regenerated, and my mother became steward that day.”

  “I’m sorry,” Rupert said, and then frowned. “Wait, you said they didn’t regenerate? Why not?” Even the hydra hounds regenerated.

  Fer-Rog sighed. “There are multiple reasons. In some cases, the individual’s body requires so much repair that the individual cannot summon the mana to bring everything back together, or at least do so in a reasonable number of years; they then give up and let themselves go. In other cases, the demons do have a few weapons capable of ending a demon or D’Orc permanently.”

  “That’s horrible.” Rupert shook his head in horror at the thought.

  Fer-Rog nodded. “I am told that the frequency of such happenings has increased in the last thousand years or so.” He shrugged. “That should end now with your father’s return.”

  “I hope so,” Rupert said. “But unfortunately, that won’t bring your father back. Again, I am sorry. I lost my mother a few years ago, so I know what it feels like.” Fer-Rog looked at him again and sort of nodded in acknowledgement of the pain. “So, where were you going?”

  “I have combat training with the others in my age cohort,” Fer-Rog said.

  “That’s a coincidence! I was just thinking how much I needed some combat training. May I come and watch?” Rupert asked.

  Fer-Rog shrugged. “I do not believe Xaroth can say no. However, even if he could I would seriously doubt he would. He is a firm believer in everyone being at his or her best. So, I am sure if you ask, he will evaluate you and place you in an appropriate class.”

  ~

  DOF +5

  Late Afternoon 16-02-440

  “Greetings, master and fellow servant of Tommus!” Estrebrius shouted excitedly as he appeared in his summoning pentagram in Vaselle’s lab.

  “Greetings, Estrebrius. They’ve taken down the city’s wards against demons and pretty much everything else,” Vaselle said. “I’ve summoned you because I’m going to need help hauling all of these supplies back here so we can send them to Lord Tommus.”

  “I think he said you could call him Tom. He really seems to prefer that for some reason,” Estrebrius said.

  “It just seems a bit too familiar,” Vaselle said, frowning.

  “Well, you did cast a ‘familiar’ spell on yourself.” Estrebrius grinned. “Besides, as demon princes go, he’s really extremely nice.”

  Vaselle’s eyes widened. “So he is a demon prince? Official rumor was greater demon, but everyone figured he was one of the archdemons. No one suspected a demon prince in the city!”

  Estrebrius rocked his head from side to side. “Well, Tom denies he’s a demon prince. In fact, he says he’s only a greater demon.” Vaselle looked at him, not understanding what Estrebrius meant. The little demon continued, “But, while you were working on your spell, we all went treasure hunting in these caverns that turned out to be under Mount Doom. After a few battles with hydra hounds and fleeing a bunch of D’Orcs, Tom managed to destroy a bunch of Etonian runes and then seized control of the Wand of Orcus and renamed it the Rod of Tommus. He then restarted Mount Doom and is now considered to be the reincarnation of Orcus by something like 2,000 plus D’Orcs!”

  Estrebrius stopped for a moment to catch his breath. “And that would make him a demon prince and according to the D’Orcs, the archrival of Lilith, the Empress of the Abyss!”

  Vaselle collapsed into a nearby chair. He only understood about half of what Estrebrius was saying, but what he did understand was overwhelming enough. After a moment, he asked Estrebrius, “What is a dork?”

  Estrebrius shook his head, “No, a D’Orc. Like ‘demon orc.’ They are the demon equivalent of an orc. Tom has an army of about 2,000 demon orcs at his command, or at least he will shortly. That’s what the supplies are for.”

  “Huh?” Vaselle asked, not understanding.

  “Well, technically not for that. There is going to be an allegiance-swearing ceremony and then a party afterward. We are trying to get booze for the party, but demons need something stronger than mortals to get drunk. So we are hoping to get a lot of barrels of glargh. We then take these supplies you are getting and mix them into the glargh to make x-glargh, which is a favorite of D’Orcs.”

  “So my first task is getting party supplies?” Vaselle was feeling a bit of a letdown. Here he had been certain all the nasty things he was buying were for some horribly evil scheme.

  “Welcome to indentured service,” said Estrebrius with a grin.

  Vaselle shook his head. He had just summoned Estrebrius to lug supplies around. Fair is fair, he supposed.

  “I wish I could see the master’s new fortress,” Vaselle said sadly.

  Estrebrius shrugged. “I’m sure Tom will be okay with you coming to the party. There is just the problem of your staying alive there. The Abyss is very hot. Mount Doom is actually quite a bit cooler, especially since it started raining, but it’s still going to be like one of those saunas they have in the northern regions.”

  “Dang,” Vaselle said.

  “You know,” Estrebrius said after a moment. “Rupert once mentioned that Tom had brought several wizard friends through the Abyss and that the wizards had a way of staying cool. Maybe I can find out what that is. It sounded like it was a spell or something.”

  “That would be great!” Vaselle clapped his hands, jumping up. “Okay, so we should get started. We have some of the supplies ready to be picked up. The rest will be ready tomorrow. Let’s go get what we can.”

  ~

  DOF +5

  Late Afternoon/Early Evening 16-02-440

  “The wards are down!” Antefalken exclaimed as he materialized in Damien’s chamber.

  “Yes, finally!” Damien said, grinning. “I can’t tell you how much I’ve missed your company. Things are insane here, wards or no wards.” He shook his head and sat down, gesturing for Antefalken to hop on his favorite chair perch.

  Antefalken laughed. “You only think things are insane here. It’s much crazier in the Abyss.”

  “I don’t know, the Oorstemothians recorded the battle between Talarius and Edwyrd and there are tons of crappy mirrorings from the wall as well. So everyone is pretty freaked out.”

  “Well, there were hundreds of demons watching, and they all ran back to the Courts to tell everyone. But it gets wilder.”

  “Really? Wilder than the fact that Alexandros Mien noticed something odd and drew the Council’s attention to a flying carpet upon which Exador, Ramses the Damned and an unknown woman were all
having breakfast while watching the battle?”

  That caused Antefalken to pause as he digested the sentence. “Well, I think I can beat that, but a) who is the woman, and b) why are the three of them outside the wards when everyone else is inside?”

  Damien twisted his head in something like a shrug. “We aren’t certain, but as you recall, we suspected that the Ramses the Damned character might have been an archdemon; the woman is clearly something equally unusual; and then add Exador on the rug, outside? We think he may be the third archdemon.”

  Antefalken blinked a few times. “So you are saying that Lenamare, a mortal, has been going toe-to-toe with an archdemon for the last few decades and that the two kept ending up in a draw?”

  Damien pursed his lips. “Well, when you put it like that, I like the theory a bit less. It gives Lenamare way too much of an ego boost, which he certainly doesn’t need.”

  “Well, he did apparently kick three archdemons out on their asses; he deserves some credit for that,” Antefalken noted.

  “Trust me; he’s been soaking it up like a sponge. He’s actually been both pleasant and helpful lately.”

  “Now you are scaring me.” Antefalken gave a mock shudder. “So how’s your buddy Randolf taking the news that his faithful servant-slash-boss is an archdemon?”

  “Surprisingly well,” Damien said. Antefalken gave him a skeptical expression. “No, really—I am shocked myself. I almost, and I say almost, think he had suspected so already.”

  “Really? I thought he was clueless,” Antefalken said.

  “That is the appearance he gave, but I had an interesting breakfast with him. He is far smarter than we give him credit for being. I get the impression that he may feel he has little choice but to play the fool,” Damien said.

  “That does not add up with anything we know about him,” Antefalken noted as he shook his head. “And the third, the woman? Another archdemon?”

  Damien gave that same half shrug again. “That would be the most logical explanation; however, Trevin recognized her as being Bastet, a goddess of the Nyjyr Ennead pantheon.”

  Antefalken nodded, thinking back. “Guardian of House and Home, or some such title; hardly seems like the sort to be consorting with archdemons.” He shrugged. “However, they disappeared several hundred years before I arrived on the scene. I have seen their old temples. Very impressive, but again, long gone from the Astlanian localverse, at least. I don’t get much outside that, so can’t say where they might have gone.”

  “Well, she mentioned that apparently, both Elrose, who works for Lenamare, and Gastropé’s friend, Maelen, got hit by some visions that were tied to all of this; it was the whole reason they’d been traveling to meet each other.”

  “Seriously?” Antefalken asked.

  “Serious enough that Trevin has set off on a mission to investigate the possibility and has taken Maelen, Elrose, Jenn and Gastropé along with her.”

  “Why Jenn and Gastropé?” Antefalken asked.

  Damien chuckled. “You may recall the reason we were surrounded by two armies?”

  “Oh, yes… they were persona non grata,” the bard remembered aloud.

  “Exactly, and fortunately, I had sent the animage Edwyrd and his apprentice Rupert off to hunt down the remaining demons. So no real cause to surround us.”

  “Hence the wards are down.”

  “Mostly,” Damien admitted. “They are, more accurately, suspended. We can raise them quickly if need be. Say, if Exador comes marching back for revenge with his horde of demons.”

  “Good idea,” Antefalken agreed.

  “Yes. Unfortunately, the Rod and Oorstemoth both had similar thoughts and so have not completely withdrawn.” Antefalken grimaced. “Although we do have a truce agreement with them. They are technically here to assist us if the horde comes back.”

  Damien smiled, having given his friend a nice, quick rundown of the insanity in Freehold. “So, what insanity have you been up to that’s so crazy?”

  Antefalken grinned at Damien in a manner the wizard thought seemed almost evil, as if the bard were going to enjoy telling his story a little too much.

  ~

  Hilda and Trisfelt sat on the small balcony of Trisfelt’s suite. There was barely room for two chairs and a small table filled with meats, cheeses and of course, wine.

  “Ah, one forgets how nice it is to see the night sky again!” Hilda remarked.

  Trisfelt chuckled. “Even though it’s only been a few days since we were both camping outside the city in the woods.”

  Hilda laughed too. “So maybe that was a bit melodramatic, but you have to admit those wards rather wore on one after a bit. Plus at night they cast that weird red sheen over everything.”

  “I completely agree. I am very much an outdoorsman… at least as long as I have the basic necessities.” He gestured to the table, indicating the food and wine. Hilda raised her glass to toast his observation, and Trisfelt clinked it with his.

  “So life gets back to normal.” She turned her head slightly to look at him better. “Or sort of; you are quite out of your routine here in the city. What will your new routine be?”

  Trisfelt rolled his head his shoulders. “Well, we must resume classes for the students, which I think shall be challenging with Elrose gone and Lenamare and Jehenna likely to double down on their precious book. It will mainly fall to Hortwell and myself to teach most of the classes.”

  “What is so important about this book? One would think in such times as this, when they are shorthanded with one master gone, one senior student dead and another off chasing down a goddess, that they would put aside their hobbies and focus on their charges,” Hilda said.

  “I fear you might be starting to actually believe those charming things you say about them to their faces. You forget they are two of the most narcissistic wizards on the planet.” Trisfelt grinned and popped a cube of ham in his mouth. Hilda chuckled and took another sip of wine.

  Trisfelt swallowed and continued, “Remember, this is the book that Exador and Lenamare went to war over.”

  “I thought Exador wanted Lenamare’s school and property or some such?” Hilda asked, puzzled.

  Trisfelt shook his head. “That was only the pretext told to the Council. The book was the real reason. Lenamare acquired it, screwing Exador over with Oorstemoth in the process. Once Exador had dealt with the Oorstemothian courts, he immediately marshalled his forces and came for the book.”

  “How did Lenamare get Exador in trouble with the Oorstemothians?” Hilda asked, puzzled.

  Trisfelt took a long drink of wine and inhaled. “He hired this group of inter-dimensional brigands…”

  “What are inter-dimensional brigands?” Hilda interrupted.

  “Well, I don’t know if that is the precise term, only that they’ve somehow made themselves unwanted on multiple planes both within and without the localverse. Wherever they go, carnage and cataclysm ensue.”

  “You mean like what is happening now?” Hilda asked.

  “Hmm.” Trisfelt stopped to think. “You may be right, but I think in this case, it was bound to happen anyway.” He shook his head. “These brigands are actually quite skilled and very experienced. Lenamare promised them any riches they found other than the book he wanted, plus a large sum of money, and he provided them in advance with quite valuable arcane devices that they could keep as payment.”

  “A very good deal, then. I take it that it was a difficult mission?” Hilda asked.

  “Apparently. I don’t know all the details, but I do know that while others had known of the book’s location, none had ever retrieved it. These fellows managed to do so.”

  “Well, that is good, but how—”

  Trisfelt raised a finger so he might continue. “What I have not mentioned was that the book was located deep underground in a designated historical preserve of Oorstemoth.”

  “Oh, and they removed the book from the site.” Hilda nodded.

  “And, one presumes,
a fair amount of other antiquities.” Trisfelt poured more wine for both of them. After setting the empty bottle on the floor beside the other empties, he continued. “Now comes the duplicity. The brigands escaped the historical site, but were apprehended by a small army of wizards and soldiers of Oorstemoth.”

  “Awkward, I’d imagine,” Hilda said.

  “Indeed, and apparently Oorstemoth suffered severe casualties. However, here comes the answer to your question. You see, Lenamare had given them a special bag to hold the book once they found it. It turns out that this bag was actually a Bag of Safekeeping—you know, the extra-dimensional storage space bags?” Hilda nodded, she had heard of them. “However, this bag was twinned, in that there were actually two bags that opened onto the same extra-dimensional space. The brigands put the book in the bag; Lenamare then opened his bag and removed the book. He then destroyed his bag so it could not be traced back. The Oorstemothians were left with an empty Bag of Safekeeping.”

  “Ingenious, one has to admit,” Hilda said.

  “Don’t tell Lenamare that.” Trisfelt shook his head, feeling this fifth bottle of wine. “In addition, those arcane devices he had given the brigands as payment?” Hilda nodded that she remembered. “They had very powerful hidden enchantments on them such that when questioned about who hired them, the brigands always replied ‘Exador.’ ”

  “So devious.” Hilda shook her head. “Ethically challenged, but devious.”

  Trisfelt nodded. “So long story short, the brigands went to Oorstemothian prison, where they were held so they could testify against Exador before being executed, and Exador was served notice by Oorstemoth and had to go prove his innocence. This gave Lenamare and Jehenna quite a bit of time to read the book.”

  “I thought they couldn’t open it?” Hilda asked the wizard.

  “I said it gave them time; unfortunately, they were forced to use that time to try to figure out how to unlock and open the book. To date, they have had no luck.” Trisfelt chuckled.

  Hilda shook her head and grinned. “All that for nothing?”

  “Exactly.”

  “So what is in this book? What secrets does it contain?” Hilda asked.