by Joe Jackson
They arrived in Marsdale after a few days, but were halted at the gates. The city was like a cross between Newport and Winter’s Bounty, a port with a wealthy side. Once their identities were confirmed by Markus, the Silver Blades were ushered into the city and to the Earl’s keep. Their hesitant reception turned into a heroes’ welcome once news spread that they had killed the Tilcimer. Curiously, a mob formed and demanded the death of Atauridar when his identity came to light, but Markus was able to rebuke them and send the people on their way. He was content to let Erik take the elite demon back to DarkWind for questioning and judgment.
Erik introduced his father to Markus, and the two shook hands cordially. “How’re things going for you administratively?” Corbanis asked.
Markus waved a hand around casually. “As well as can be expected. Earl Pendergast’s son has readily admitted he is not ready to take the reins of his father’s county, so I have sent a dispatch to the Duke to have a regent sent or selected. Young Pendergast should be ready to take over his father’s county within a few years. In the meantime, I am organizing search and rescue missions by the barons and their garrisons to bring aid to the many towns and villages attacked or destroyed by the demon.”
“Send out word that Taesenus may be in the area as well, but if anyone sees him, they are to contact the Order immediately,” Corbanis requested. “No one should be trying to engage him, certainly not alone. As it stands, my son needs to see a healer as soon as possible to repair what the Demon Prince did to him.”
Markus glanced at Aeligos for only a moment before he called upon a page. “Have Earl Pendergast’s surgeon and the best healers from Tigron’s temple brought here immediately.”
The page left with a hasty Yes, m’lord. Markus brought the Silver Blades and their elite prisoner into a stately marble fireplace room where they could relax. The marble kept the room cool even in the summer heat which, though less potent this far south, was still considerable for those not of serilian-rir blood. Erik and his companions spent a couple of hours filling Markus in on everything they’d seen and dealt with, giving him an idea of where to focus the relief efforts.
“What are your intentions, sir?” Markus asked the prisoner during a lull.
“Intentions? Likely to be executed,” Atauridar answered with little emotion.
“And if you’re not?”
“I don’t know,” the serilis-rir admitted. “There seems to be no place for me in this world, much less in your society. I have no interest in living among my brothers, who likely see me as a traitor, which is ironic. Though I am not looking forward to it, obviously, I think death would be a mercy, at this point.”
Sherman and Sharyn joined the gathering after a little while, and Sonja rushed over to give them both hugs. Erik wasn’t sure how to react to seeing them; though he was glad they were all right, he couldn’t help but wonder if they had been too busy dallying – figuratively and literally – in Ballycastle to rejoin the group. Still, he tried to keep Sonja and Kari’s scowls and words in mind, and thought how to be more tactful when he finally spoke.
“What happened to you two? We were worried,” he said, and his tone and words clearly surprised Sonja and Aeligos. He tucked a small smile away in the back of his mind.
Sherman glanced at Sharyn, but it was obvious she wasn’t interested in explaining, and certainly not to Erik. The young man offered, “It’s a long story, but to keep it simple, Sharyn detected a demon in Ballycastle, so we hunted it down.”
“What kind of demon?” Corbanis asked, icy blue eyes fixed on the paladin.
“It was a jackal-demon…an elestram,” he elaborated. “Sharyn picked up her scent in the city, and when we finally confronted her, she…well, disabled us.”
“Both of you?” Corbanis asked, and Sherman nodded sheepishly.
“Did you wound her at all?” Erik asked, and Sharyn nodded. “You clawed her across the snout, didn’t you? Gods, that must’ve been the same one that came and helped us fight Taesenus and the Tilcimer.”
“She helped you?” Sharyn asked, an incredulous break in her normal stoicism.
“I had a feeling we were forcing her to fight when she didn’t want to,” Sherman said. “She could have killed us both, but she was satisfied with just disabling us. She said she was hunting someone…”
“Taesenus,” Erik said with a nod. “Apparently, King Koursturaux is offering about two hundred thousand gold pieces for his capture or death. Can’t tell you how tempting that would be if he hadn’t just made the lot of us look like fools.”
“Where is she now?” Sherman asked.
“Dead,” Katarina answered. “Taesenus killed her.”
“A shame,” Sherman said with a shake of his head, and Sharyn looked at him quizzically. “Oh, I know you’d have liked to return the beating she gave us, Sharyn, but I find myself more intrigued than annoyed.”
“She asked us to deliver a message to her sister, but that’s not exactly going to be easy,” Katarina said. “It’s something we can ask Kari about, since she now seems to have contacts in the underworld.”
“Mehr’Durillia,” Sonja said, and she chuckled when her human companions glanced at her. “The ‘underworld’ is actually called Mehr’Durillia. And Kari’s still sorting out all of the implications from our trip there.”
The surgeon and healers arrived while they talked, and escorted Aeligos to another room to work on him. It took some time, but when the rogue returned, his wing was reattached and bandaged up to heal fully. Erik once again appreciated some irony: Taesenus’ vorpal sword had left a surgical slice so neat that it was actually easier to repair. It would take time, particularly for the membrane, but the priests assured everyone that Aeligos’ wounds were free of infection and would heal completely. At Erik’s insistence, they checked on Jol’s shoulder as well, but they said his wound had been well-cleaned and was all but fully healed.
“Shall I arrange passage home for you?” Markus asked.
“Sonja?” Erik prompted.
“It’s better if I don’t teleport us home, even though I could – in multiple trips, anyway. I’m concerned about leaving traces for beings like Taesenus to follow, obviously, but I also want the Demon Prince to wonder if we’re tracking him. If I don’t use my arcane power to take us all home, Taesenus will have no idea where we are, and he may have to go to ground and stay out of trouble – for a little while, at least.”
“Good thinking,” Corbanis said, and Erik couldn’t disagree.
“Very well, then,” Markus said with a smile. “There is a royal warship in port, having recently delivered several hundred marines to aid in bolstering the city’s defense. I will have them take you on as passengers, and arrange for another transport to come and bring the marines back home when their time of service here is complete.”
The Silver Blades and their companions were able to relax and have a hearty, filling dinner at the Earl’s table. Cassius Pendergast – Iron Clyde’s son – rose and toasted the Silver Blades and their friends before they began to eat. “To our benefactors: thank you for avenging my father and making the county of Marsdale safe for its people once again. Safeguarding the people was always my father’s first and greatest passion, and he would have been honored to host all of you in thanks for your work. While it is true and no secret that my father distrusted your kind,” he said, glancing at the many serilian-rir, “I think your service, bravery, and honor would have cracked even the armor around Iron Clyde’s heart. You have my thanks and those of our people.”
Erik and his friends raised their glasses in salute back to the young earl-to-be.
Before anyone took a drink, the Countess spoke up. “Indeed. As my son said, I believe even my hard-headed late husband would have found you convincing evidence that his views on half-demons may have been wrong.”
Erik glanced at Serenjols, but though his eldest brother suppressed a smile, he didn’t say anything. The others had to hide laughs as well, but they were more easi
ly able to do so as they drank in toast with their hosts.
They gathered the next morning and prepared to head to the docks, but Erik was surprised when Sherman, Sharyn, and Katarina remained casually dressed and didn’t have their things ready to go. “Are you all staying here?”
“Aye,” Katarina answered. “I have half a mind to move up to DarkWind and work with you all full-time, but that’s something I’m going to have to discuss with my fiancée.”
“Your fiancée?” Erik echoed, confused. Sonja squealed and rushed forward to give their friend a hug, and Erik looked to Markus for explanation.
“Now that she is no longer my student, I felt the time was proper to ask her hand in marriage,” the paladin said.
Erik’s jaw dropped, and he had to make a conscious effort to close it. It seemed there were a lot of betrothals happening lately, and that little nagging doubt in his mind once again lanced him sharply, asking him when he was going to think about it himself. He decided to concentrate on the moment, though, and after only the slightest hesitation, he held out his hand and shook with the nobleman. “Congratulations,” he said. “Though I’m expecting she’s not going to have much luck getting you to surrender your county and come try to get yourself killed working with us?”
Markus laughed. “I have several cousins who are both eligible and capable of taking up rulership of the county,” he said. “So it may not be as difficult as you might think. With all that has come to light in the last few months, it is something we’ll definitely talk about.”
“We could always use the help. Things just keep getting piled higher and deeper,” Erik said, and the noble chuckled again. Erik held his hand out to Katarina once Sonja relinquished her hold, but the paladin leaned in and gave the towering half-guardian a hug.
“It was a pleasure working with you again,” Katarina said when they separated. “You’re becoming a very capable leader, and your father is only going to set a better example for you if he remains on assignment around you.”
Corbanis bowed politely, and accepted a hug from the paladin. She exchanged the same pleasantries with Serenjols, Aeligos, and Gabrius as well.
“Yeah, we’re very lucky dad showed up,” Aeligos said. There was still a bit of hurt in his eyes; Erik had no doubt that it wasn’t going to just go away because of a nearly fatal fight. But Corbanis put his hand on the rogue’s shoulder, and Aeligos didn’t try to avoid it, shake it off, or even scowl. On the contrary, he managed a smile, however briefly. Once again Erik had to wonder if it was an act, but he hoped it wasn’t.
“Give our regards to Kari, and tell her we may all be coming to see you soon,” Katarina said.
“Coming to see us?” Sonja said. “Shouldn’t we be coming to see you? When is the big day?”
“We’re not sure yet,” Markus said, and he bowed his head with a smile. “But rest assured, we will let you know and make sure you have time to come and attend. Go with the gods, my friends. I hope that the next time we meet, the circumstances are more joyful.”
“Kari and Grakin will be marrying soon,” Jol put in, drawing more smiles from everyone and excited chatter from the three human paladins. “So perhaps we will be seeing much more of each other, and in more joyous times, as you say.”
Erik considered a personal farewell for Sharyn and Sherman, but he couldn’t think of anything to say that would come across as genuine, or at least not patronizing. He still had his doubts about Sharyn, but she had proven she was courageous and fairly selfless. Once again, he had to remind himself that he wasn’t the best judge of character, and that even when he was, it wasn’t always his business to pass judgments. He was confident that with his sister and Earl Garant to guide him, Sherman would come to the right decision either way.
Whatever the werewolf thought of Erik, her handshake was strong but friendly.
With their final goodbyes taken care of, the Silver Blades headed down to the docks and prepared their long journey home.
*****
Gil didn’t seem nervous at all. Kari still got butterflies in her stomach sometimes when she was supposed to stand before the Council, so it was surprising to her that a werewolf wasn’t anxious about being revealed before them. There was something odd about this girl, and the fact that she was only nineteen really magnified it. Was fearlessness something that came naturally to werewolves, or was there something else that gave Gil that unnatural sense of confidence?
The werewolf truly was something else, so unlike Sharyn, for what Kari had gotten to know of the woman. Gil seemed, on the one hand, completely carefree, and yet she had a strong sense of duty when the situation demanded it. She was very careful not to expose any of what she was doing outside of Kari’s knowledge, except to let Kari know that what she was doing was to help the Order, not hinder it. Taking that into account along with her obvious strength and prowess in her hybrid form, Kari thought Gil might actually make a decent demonhunter.
Most amusing had been the girl’s insights into weddings. She had suggested a number of things, and after sitting and having tea with her and Kyrie a couple of nights earlier, Kari was left with a better idea of what she wanted to do for her ceremony. Gil had suggestions on everything from what to wear, what to serve for food, and even educated Kari about what to ask for and expect as gifts. Kari had been so focused on the ceremony, she hadn’t put a lot of thought into the reception. She certainly wasn’t expecting to receive gifts, but Gil assured her she would receive plenty – not the least because she was head of the Demonhunter Order.
That brought Kari’s thoughts around full circle, and she sighed. There had still been no word yet from her companions in the south, other than that Sherman and Sharyn were all right. They had passed along some information about an elestram assassin, but contrary to Kari’s immediate thoughts, it was apparently a female. They had also explained that the demon – and Kari had to remind herself that Sherman and Sharyn wouldn’t know better yet – didn’t seem intent on killing anyone, and had even left them merely disabled when she’d had the chance to kill them.
Kari had wondered at that: a sole elestram assassin had disabled a trained paladin and a werewolf. It made Kari wonder how much of a difference the werewolves might really make as allies. Certainly they would make good law enforcement members of the Order – who in their right mind would commit crimes with a werewolf patrolling the streets of a city? – but if they were still little match for the average elestram assassin, the Order was going to need even more than they could offer. Kari understood she would need to draw in allies from every corner of the world, regardless of how the Order had viewed them to this point, if they wanted to win this so-far-unofficial war with the demon kings.
The Council was already gathered, along with Lord Allerius, in the back room of the temple. Kari escorted Gil before them, and the demonhunter saluted her superiors. They saluted her in return somewhat absently, and it was clear in those first few moments that many of them recognized Gil from the wanted posters. There were scattered, whispered comments back and forth between some of the priests, but they eventually went silent and each turned their gazes to Master Bennet in the center.
“This is the werewolf that was terrorizing the city just scant months ago?” the priest finally managed.
Gil looked at Kari, and the demonhunter gestured for the werewolf to introduce herself. “Gillian Erin MacKenzie, at your service,” she said.
That piqued the curiosity of the priests, and Kari spoke. “As I explained when she was first spotted in the city, one of the people who helped me kill Turillia was a werewolf. A friend of Gil’s, actually. So when Gil came here to DarkWind and people started reporting seeing her, that’s how I knew it wasn’t really a problem.”
“Indeed,” Master Perez said. “We did certainly have our doubts, but your words were eventually proven true.”
“Gil and her friends aren’t the kind of werewolves we normally think of when we hear the term,” Kari explained. “They’re natural shape-shi
fters; I’ve been told their changes don’t even have anything to do with the moons, are completely under their control, and that they can’t make other people into werewolves by biting or scratching them.”
“Is that true?” Master Perez asked Gil.
“Yes, sir,” the girl said, standing somewhat at attention. “Our…condition is genetic, though it seems pretty rare. There aren’t many of us, and there doesn’t seem to be any way to tell when it’s going to manifest itself. I didn’t find out until I was fifteen, myself. And then my whole life changed, as I’m sure you can imagine.”
“Would you care to give us a demonstration?” Master Arinotte asked, sitting forward in his seat. “Reading about werewolves has always been a guilty pleasure for me, though I never thought I would meet one face-to-face outside of a fight. If you can truly change forms, that is something I would very much like to witness for myself.”
Gil shrugged her agreement and began to take off her clothes. She regarded the many upturned sets of eyebrows from behind the table, and chuckled. “I don’t like wasting good clothes,” she said. “You can all turn around if you’d like.”
None of them did, not even Lord Allerius, and Kari had to stifle the urge to laugh. The girl took off all of her clothes with no apparent sense of modesty, and within moments, gray and white hairs began to sprout from her skin. Kari had seen the transformation a couple of times before, and yet she still watched it from beginning to end. The sound of the bones cracking and reshaping themselves – particularly the eruption of the snout – was a little discomfiting, but Kari never took her eyes off of Gil. Soon enough, there was an eight-foot, furry beast with elongated, wicked claws on its hands and feet standing in the center of a discarded pile of clothes.
“By the Unyielding,” muttered more than a few of the priests.
“I can even talk in this form, with some effort,” Gil growled and grunted. It was guttural and came across like a snarl, but her words were intelligible.
