Demonkin

by Richard S. Tuttle

  “How is that trouble?” asked Captain Takir as he pulled his feet off the desk and sat up straight.

  “He is not just riding through,” answered the sergeant. “In addition to his pack, his horse is loaded down with personal gear.”

  “So he is moving to a new duty station,” shrugged the captain. “That does not mean that Olansk is his final destination. He could be heading for Zinbar or even beyond. There are a lot of opportunities beyond the Barrier now that the Federation has expanded.”

  “Maybe,” the sergeant replied, “but I don’t think so. He is sizing up the city, and he asked one of the men who the commanding officer was and what rank he held.”

  Captain Takir bit his lower lip and stared at the wall. The sergeant knew that Takir was thinking, and he waited patiently.

  “If he has papers giving him control of Olansk,” the captain eventually said, “we will be in for a very bad time here. A new officer will try to exert his influence over all of us, and it will not be very comfortable.”

  “That’s what I was thinking.” The sergeant nodded. “Should I arrange an accident for him?”

  “Not yet,” answered Captain Takir. “Let’s see what he is up to first. You go spread the word to the rest of the men and then return to the outer office in case I need you.”

  The sergeant nodded dutifully and left the office. Captain Takir opened a desk drawer and extracted a large pile of papers. He arranged them on his desk as if he were studying them. The new captain took his time, but eventually he entered Captain Takir’s office. Captain Takir looked up with a smile on his face.

  “Good day, Captain,” greeted Captain Takir. “Can I help you?”

  “Are you Captain Takir?” asked the newcomer.

  “I am,” smiled Captain Takir. “Who are you?”

  “Captain Kent from Despair,” answered the new officer. “I guess I am your replacement.”

  “Replacement?” Captain Takir asked with surprise. He wondered if some senior officer had finally noticed his worth. With a tinge of excitement in his voice, he asked, “How nice. Where am I going?”

  “You are not going anywhere,” replied Captain Kent. “I was sent from Despair to lead the garrison here.”

  “Were you now?” asked Captain Takir as his eyes narrowed on the newcomer. There was something in the newcomer’s eyes that indicated nervousness, and Captain Takir suspected that the truth was being stretched a bit. “May I see your orders?”

  “You have no reason to inspect my orders,” scowled Captain Kent. “Do you always inspect the orders of your superior officer?”

  “Your rank is no higher than mine,” Captain Takir replied, the smile disappearing from his face as he rose to his feet. Captain Kent’s bluffing had told Takir the true story. He did not fault Kent for trying the move that he did, but it was now time to preserve his own position. “You may think you are something special coming from Despair, but you weren’t sent here as a favor to your career. You have greatly offended someone, and you were sent here to get rid of an embarrassment.”

  “How dare you question me?” blustered Captain Kent. “I should strip you of your rank for such behavior.”

  “I am the commanding officer in Olansk,” Captain Takir stated in steely tones as he waved Sergeant Lamar into the room. “If there is any stripping of rank to be done, I will be the one doing it. Now, you might complain about my actions if I were to do so, but I suspect that there is someone in Despair who would not be particularly happy to see your name appear in a grievance. You are, after all, supposed to disappear quietly. Now that you fully understand my position, would you care to start this conversation all over again?”

  Captain Kent glanced over his shoulder and saw the huge sergeant standing behind him. Just outside the door, several more soldiers stood watching and listening. They did not look kindly at the new captain. Captain Kent sighed and nodded.

  “Have your sergeant close the door on his way out,” Captain Kent said softly.

  Captain Takir nodded to Sergeant Lamar, and the big man backed out of the office and closed the door.

  “Who did you cross in Despair?” Captain Takir asked in a friendly manner as he waved the new officer to a chair and then sat down in his own chair.

  “I do not know,” admitted Captain Kent. “I was a well-respected officer in the city guard of Despair. One day I was on top of the world, and the next I was transferred to this hole in the forest.”

  “Everyone is here for the same reason,” Captain Takir said sympathetically. “Someone with power took exception to something you did. You will have plenty of time to dwell upon it. No one gets transferred out of here.”

  “Great,” sighed Captain Kent. “I hope you don’t take offense at my entrance. When I found out the commanding officer was only a captain, I figured it was worth a try.”

  “It was,” chuckled Captain Takir. “I might have tried the same thing in your position, but let me set the record straight. I have worked hard to bring these men into some semblance of order. It was not an easy task, but they are extremely loyal to me now. Forget your thoughts of running Olansk, and you will find this place almost pleasant. While there is zero chance for advancement, no one bothers us here. All we have to do is get along with one another.”

  “Like a prison,” retorted Captain Kent.

  “Exactly like a prison,” agreed Captain Takir. “We are the scorned and forgotten men of the Federation army. Welcome to Olansk.”

  “So what do I do now?” asked Captain Kent.

  “Take a few days off and get familiar with the city,” suggested Captain Takir. “It is not a bad posting in some regards, although there is a rather large contingent of thieves. They live beneath the city. Their leader is a man named Cracker, and he has organized the thieves into an army. They have ranks and everything. Most of the time they are a minor nuisance, but mind your personal gear well. They won’t think twice about stealing from a captain in the army.”

  “Are they dangerous?” asked Captain Kent.

  “Not really,” answered Captain Takir. “There are occasional deaths, but they usually only kill their own. Cracker runs a pretty tight outfit, and it doesn’t pay to be a thief and cross him. As for the citizens, the thieves might rough them up a bit, but they don’t murder them.”

  “I didn’t see any slums on my ride into the city. Are they walled in?”

  “There are no slums in Olansk,” answered Captain Takir. “We have a fair amount of beggars, but Aerta is the breadbasket of Zara. Food is not as scarce here as it is in other cities. Many of the people living here work on farms outside the city. They buy food from the farms and resell it in the market, so there is generally a good supply.”

  “It sounds kind of idyllic,” commented Captain Kent. “It will certainly be different than Despair. Where do I bunk?”

  “There is an empty room down the hall. I will have the men drag a bed in there for you, but you will have to supply any other furniture on your own. There are several good carpenters in the city. Orkare and Son has quite a reputation from as far away as Giza.”

  “Do all the troops live in the garrison?”

  “Not all of them,” answered Captain Takir, “but most of them do. No one here is going to make a career of the army. Most of the men choose to save the money for when they get out, so sleeping in the garrison makes sense for them. The few who sleep elsewhere usually have women in the city. You may do as you please.”

  Captain Kent nodded and left the office. He was barely out the door when Sergeant Lamar entered and closed the door.

  “Is he trouble?”

  “I don’t think so,” answered Captain Takir, “but you should keep an eye on him for a few days. Let’s see if he is what he claims to be.”

  * * * *

  Morro’s unicorn glided through the night sky and landed just outside the city of Olansk. The elven thief dismounted and patted the unicorn gently.

  “I am going into the city alone,” Morro said sof
tly. “Keep off the road, but keep an eye out for me. I should be back within an hour.”

  I will stay near the river. The fairy will find me if you need me.

  Morro left his pack on the unicorn and stole into the night. The gates of Olansk were not manned, and the elven thief slipped into the city unnoticed. As he had no intention of speaking to Cracker, Morro kept a special eye out for any of Cracker’s army. He did not want to spend his time in reunions, and he thought it would be better if no one truly knew that the carpenter was robbed.

  The elven thief knew the city streets well, and he maneuvered through dark alleys that the thieves seldom bothered with. While the night was still young, Morro reached the rear of Orkare and Son. He glanced upward and saw a dim light in the residence portion of the building. While working under Cracker, Morro would have waited until that light went out before striking, but it was a long ride back to Tarashin, and he could only fly the unicorn at night. Morro checked the alley carefully before moving to the rear window and picking the lock. He silently opened the window and hauled himself inside the building.

  Due to his previous visit with Kalina, Morro knew right where to go to find the requisition. He moved swiftly to the desk and slid the drawer open. The room was dark and Morro stuck his finger into his pocket and stirred the fairy to life. Sparky stuck his head out of the pocket and glanced around in the dark.

  “I could use a little light here,” Morro whispered.

  “Now is not a good time,” the fairy whispered back.

  Morro instinctively lowered himself to the floor so that the desk hid him from the stairs leading to the residency. “Is someone coming?” he whispered.

  “Not exactly,” Sparky replied. “There is a soldier on the street peering into the shop, but I don’t think he has seen us.”

  Morro glanced around the desk and saw the soldier standing in the moonlight outside. He pulled his head back and tried to peer into the drawer, but there was no moonlight inside the shop.

  “Get into this drawer,” Morro whispered to the fairy. “I will close it, and you can search for the requisition. When you are ready to come out, bang on the drawer.”

  Sparky dropped off the top of the desk and beat his wings furiously as he hurtled towards the drawer. He landed perfectly on the top piece of paper, and Morro slowly slid the drawer shut. A tiny pinprick of light escaped from the closed drawer, but Morro knew that it would not be visible from the street. He waited anxiously for the fairy to find what they were searching for. Suddenly, a bow snapped outside, and a cry of pain came from the soldier in the street. Morro heard movement from upstairs, and he began to get nervous.

  “Make it quick, little friend. Our time is running out.”

  “I have it!” Sparky announced triumphantly as the fairy light winked out. “Open the drawer.”

  Morro slid the drawer open and found the fairy half submerged in a pile of papers.

  “It is the one that I am standing on. Grab it.”

  Morro grabbed the paper and slid it out of the pile while Sparky held the pile above his head, his little feet running to keep up with the movement of the requisition that the elf was pulling on. Morro reached into the drawer with his other hand and took the weight of the papers with his fingers. Sparky leaped out of the drawer, and Morro let go of the stack and closed the drawer. He stuffed the requisition into his tunic and held his pocket open for the fairy. Sparky climbed into the pocket, and Morro slid out of the window as footsteps pounded on the stairs. The elven thief closed the window and reengaged the lock.

  Morro moved quickly away from the rear of the shop. He paused at the first alley and looked down it before crossing it. He saw a large man dragging another into the alley. Both of the men wore uniforms, and Morro turned and darted away.

  * * * *

  The pain in Captain Kent’s leg was excruciating. He groaned loudly as the man dragged him along the street and into an alley.

  “Be quiet! You want that assassin to know where you are?” whispered Sergeant Lamar.

  “Assassin?” grunted the captain. “What are you talking about? Why would anyone want to kill me?”

  “Only you hold that answer. The man might not have been the best shot in the world, but there was no one other than you in the street tonight.”

  “A thief?” asked the captain as he stared at the arrow in his leg.

  “Thieves don’t hide on rooftops and shoot their victims with arrows,” scoffed the sergeant. “Olansk thieves grab things and run. Stay here and don’t move.”

  Sergeant Lamar glanced out of the alley at the rooftops before dashing across the street and racing down another alley. The sergeant knew the city well, and he knew that there was only one easy path off the roof that the bowman had been on. He grabbed a discarded timber as he ran through the alley, and he halted just short of the end of the alley. Listening carefully, he heard a foot slip getting off the slanted roof. The sergeant closed his eyes and pictured the assassin climbing down onto the wooden railing and jumping to the ground. When the timing was right, Sergeant Lamar opened his eyes and raced out of the alley. A dark figure was racing towards him as the sergeant swung the heavy column of wood. A loud thud echoed off the back of the building, and the assassin tumbled to the ground.

  Sergeant Lamar pulled a knife from his belt and cautiously approached the assassin. The man did not move, and the sergeant kicked the body with his boot. It still did not move. With his knife ready to slash in a moment’s notice, the sergeant kicked the body, flipping the assassin onto his back. The man’s head was a bloody mess, and his eyes stared upwards in a gaze of death. Sergeant Lamar knelt next to the body and searched it. The coins he found went directly into his own pouch, but he found nothing else of interest other than the man’s weapons. The sergeant rose to his feet and backtracked to where he had left the captain. He bent over and easily lifted Kent off the ground.

  “Did he get away?” asked Captain Kent.

  “Nope,” answered the sergeant as he started carrying the captain along the street towards the garrison, “but we won’t be asking him any questions, not that that would do any good anyway. There is not much chance of an assassin telling the truth.”

  “Why not?” asked the captain. “Surely, he would bargain for his life?”

  “Would he now?” laughed the sergeant. “Any man who would hire an assassin would surely hire another. Do you really expect a hired killer to speak openly about such a man?”

  Captain Kent gritted his teeth in pain as the sergeant carried him to the garrison. The big man kicked the door with his boot and a soldier promptly opened it. Sergeant Lamar eased through the doorway and deposited the captain on a table.

  “Someone get a healer for the captain,” the sergeant said as he drew his knife. “I am going to cut this arrow out.”

  Captain Takir came out of his office and stood staring at the spectacle. “What happened?”

  “Someone doesn’t care too much for our new captain,” quipped the sergeant. “Fortunately, the killer wasn’t a very good shot. His body is in the alley across the street from Orkare and Son.”

  Captain Kent screamed as the sergeant cut the arrowhead out of his leg. Lamar held it up for everyone to see with a broad grin on his face. The soldiers knew that Sergeant Lamar took a certain amount of pleasure in giving pain to others, and they started laughing at his exhibition. Captain Takir shook his head with displeasure.

  “I think you men have better things to do,” scowled Captain Takir. “For those who don’t have anything better to do, stick around for a while. I am sure I can come up with something.”

  The soldiers stopped laughing and slowly dispersed. Even Sergeant Lamar took the hint and found something better to do. Captain Takir gazed down at Captain Kent with determined eyes.

  “I need to know why you were sent here,” stated Captain Takir.

  “I don’t know,” answered Captain Kent. “I was highly praised in my last position. There is no reason for anyone to kill me.�
��

  “Well someone is trying to. We don’t get assassins in Olansk. You managed to get one on your very first day. That tells me that the killer has been in this city waiting for you to arrive. If we are to keep you alive, I need to know who I am up against. Level with me.”

  “I am leveling with you,” insisted Captain Kent. “I have done nothing to upset any of my superior officers. I always do exactly what they want, and I succeed at whatever I attempt. There is no reason for my posting to Olansk, and certainly not for a hired killer to be stalking me.”

  Captain Takir pressed his lips together and turned away from the wounded man. He believed that Kent was telling him the truth, or at least the truth as he knew it, but the evidence was telling a different tale. He bounced the idea around in his head for a while before he nodded knowingly. He turned back to face the wounded man.

  “If you didn’t do anything wrong,” posed Captain Takir, “then you are being punished for something you did right. Have you been assigned to any special missions lately? Perhaps something that might prove to be embarrassing for someone higher up?”

  Captain Kent stared blankly for a moment and then his eyes suddenly widened in understanding. A cold shiver raced up his spine.

  * * * *

  Karl Gree sat at the table in the common room of the closed inn in Ur. Captain Marez and his sister sat across from him. Spread out on the table was a crude drawing of the keep in the center of the city. The Knight of Alcea listened intently to the head of the Tyronian patriots, but his mind was distracted by the presence of Althea. Each time he glanced in her direction, he found her staring at him, and each time she quickly averted her eyes.

  “We may never get a complete layout of the keep,” stated Captain Marez. “I have interviewed hundreds of men who have been in the keep at one time or another, but that doesn’t begin to paint a complete picture of the keep.”

  “Perhaps we need to get someone inside,” suggested Karl Gree.

  “Impossible.” The captain shook his head. “Anyone I send in will be captured and killed. I am sure of it.”

  “We need to know the layout of the keep,” countered the Knight of Alcea. “If we don’t know it by the time it comes to attack it, hundreds of your men will die. Maybe thousands. The information is vital.”