“I see we have an understanding,” Azazel said, his voice slowly returning to normal.
Iblis was incapable of speech, and he could only nod dumbly until the sense of the other’s presence had faded. Memories began to awaken deep within him, memories of the time when he first awoke at the dawn of creation. Memories of his god. Shaitan.
“I trust that’s all been cleared up,” Azazel said smugly. “Now then, we have a lot of work ahead of us, and we must gather others to our cause. We’ve lost weeks waiting for you to recover and wake up from your little swim. When the time comes, we must be ready.”
Iblis nodded, then for some reason found himself grinning in malicious glee.
- 4 -
Another four days journey brought them to the outskirts of Dis, the only city in all the boundless reaches of Hell. When it first appeared on the horizon, they all thought it was another mountain range that spanned the entire horizon. It was only as they drew nearer that they were able to discern individual buildings and they realized it was the city itself.
“Nothing could possibly be that huge,” Trebor said in awe as he stood in the passenger’s seat of the buggy and gaped at the city.
“If you see it now,” Siran said suddenly from right beside him, “then it must be possible.”
Trebor jerked in surprise. He hadn’t known the elf was anywhere near him.
“It is neither large nor small, denarae,” Siran said just loud enough to be heard over the rumble of Danner’s engine, “it is the size that it is. Don’t think of it as large, think of it as simply there. It is Dis.”
Trebor looked askance at the elven commander. “Now why do you suddenly sound like that batty old man Trames?” he asked.
Siran smiled humorlessly at him. “There is wisdom in such simplicity,” the elf answered cryptically, then glided off.
Trebor sat down and looked at Danner.
“We have got to start spending time with normal people,” Trebor told him.
“This coming from a dead man riding next to a half-angel,” Danner said glibly.
“Still.”
“There’s no such thing,” Danner said. “I think it’s normal to be screwed up.”
“God help us all then,” Trebor said in mock despair and threw up his hands.
The city grew quickly before their eyes as Birch sped their way toward the outer fortifications.
The wall surrounding the city was over a hundred feet high, looked at least thirty feet thick, and was made of uniform gray stones fit perfectly together without any visible mortar to hold them in place. There was no gate in sight.
“Do I want to know how long it’s going to take us to find a gate?” Flasch asked plaintively.
“Eternity,” Marc said absently as he gazed at the wall.
“There are none,” Birch said before anyone else could speak.
They turned to him in surprise.
“Those who come into Dis are either demons or their guests,” Birch said grimly, “and there’s no way for anyone to cross through unaccompanied by a demon. No gates to sneak through, no guard houses to overthrow. Nothing even to guard. I passed through Dis several times going between Tartarus and Abaddon, whenever Mephistopheles had personally requested my presence for his amusement.” He paused, then smiled. “I take a certain amount of satisfaction in returning under my own power.”
With that, Birch placed his hand on the wall and motioned for Danner to drive his buggy forward. The Blue paladin inched the machine up slowly until he was sure he would touch stone, but gasped when the front of the buggy passed effortlessly through the gray wall. His toes reached the wall first – they were extended forward to reach the pedals – and Danner expected to feel something abnormal as his feet slid into the wall.
Instead, there was nothing. He could have been driving through empty air for all the difference he could feel. Still, he accelerated slightly to put the experience behind him, and after a moment of complete darkness he found himself on a wide, deserted city street.
Trebor expelled an unnecessary breath – he was dead after all – and Danner found his own chest a bit tight.
“A strange sensation.”
Trebor nearly leapt out of his seat at the sound of Siran’s voice a few feet away.
“You have got to stop doing that,” the denarae said irritably.
“Listen better,” Siran replied without looking at him.
Listen better, Trebor mouthed, pantomiming the elf’s severe face. Danner nearly choked trying not to laugh.
Oblivious to Trebor’s antics, the elven captain set off into the city, and members of the Elan’Vital streamed through the wall and followed him into the shadows. In seconds, there wasn’t an elf in sight.
Next came half the paladins from Halo Company, and Danner quickly drove his buggy out of the way so they could come through unobstructed. Shadow Company crossed next, then the rest of the paladins from Halo. Last of all came Selti and Birch.
“That’s a neat trick, Birch,” Gerard remarked dryly. “Remind me to invite you to my next party.”
“Lucky we brought him along,” Flasch remarked, and Danner stared thoughtfully at his friend. Was it fortune, or fate? What were the odds that the lone paladin to escape from Hell would be infused with a demonic āyus, allowing him to lead an assault on the center of power in Hell? What would they have done without that, scaled the walls? Ferried everyone across on Selti?
San, we never would have even made it this far without Birch speeding and guiding our travel, Danner thought to himself. If that’s pure chance, I need to start betting more.
Siran and the Elan’Vital returned at a dead sprint, and one look at the elves’ faces told Danner there was trouble.
“What’s wrong, Siran?” Gerard asked when he caught sight of the elf.
“Demons.”
“How many?” Birch asked crisply.
“Impossible to tell,” Siran answered grimly. “In the immediate vicinity, at least one thousand.”
“Where are they?”
“Everywhere,” Siran said.
“Unless they anticipated our location, we can assume thousands more cover the rest of this infernal place,” Garnet said grimly. Siran nodded. “The demon king may not have known exactly where we were, but he knew we’d have to come through Dis eventually, so he just flooded the city with demons.”
Siran nodded again. “Packs of dog-like creatures rove the streets, bloodhawks prowl the skies, and others wait within buildings.”
“In other words,” Gerard said briskly, “it’s possible for us to sneak through, but there’s a better chance of an elf and a dwarf siring children together.”
“A loathsome idea,” Siran said with a serious frown, “but an apt estimation of the odds.”
Gerard turned to Garnet.
“Well, looks like all that sneaking you did was just training for this,” the dead paladin said. “Pair off with Halo Company and lead us through this Hell hole.”
Chapter 39
Rivers don’t wander out of frivolity or random chance. The path they follow is the most economical route to the sea.
- Trames,
“O Musings” (976 AM)
- 1 -
When they finally arrived, the army of Hell waited four days before beginning their assault on Medina. Angels occasionally made forays against the demons who swept the skies overhead, but for the most part they stayed concealed within the city avoiding notice and conserving their numbers for the coming siege. The demon army assembled in two vast groups and spread out to encircle a third of the city, then they stopped and held their positions instead of assaulting.
No one in the city knew what the demons were waiting for, or if Malith was just playing some sort of game with them.
Someone is playing a game with me, Malith thought furiously as he paced back and forth within his tent. Where in Sin’s name is the rest of this accursed army?
He thrust the flap of his tent aside and glared down at an
imp stationed nearby. The waist-high demon cringed back from Malith’s anger, but dared not run, lest Malith order him destroyed for cowardice.
“Has there been any word yet?” he demanded harshly.
“From which army, my lord General?” the imp rasped.
“Any of them, you fool, but Khamuel in particular.”
“No, general.”
Malith stared at the city, trying to bore through walls of crystal and angelstone as if his missing forces might somehow be hidden within.
“Send for Molekh,” he ordered, then returned to his tent.
Iblis had disappeared during a foolish attack against Mikal and his forces. Bearable news for Malith, but much of his army had vanished with him, and those who remained had no knowledge of how or to where their fellows had disappeared. They could not have been destroyed – there simply weren’t enough angels left in Heaven to mount that kind of offensive, not when Malith knew most of them had been retreating steadily toward Medina. There was no explaining the loss, nor why it was so selective: only demons had vanished. No damned souls had accompanied their immortal masters.
Still, Malith could have shrugged off the setback had it been the only one.
Beelzebub’s army had arrived – also inexplicably reduced from its original size, though the majority were still there – but the demon prince himself was nowhere to be found. No one had seen him in weeks, and none of the remaining lieutenants had the presence of mind to send word to Malith until they arrived at Medina.
Worst of all, however, Khamuel and his entire army – all demons – had vanished without a trace. It was simply inconceivable that the angels had somehow wiped them out, but every other alternative Malith could think of was even more improbable. They wouldn’t dare go against Mephistopheles’s will, and the demon king had been furious when Malith reported the staggering losses. Fortunately, Mephistopheles’s anger had been wholly directed at the wayward demons and not at his general, else Malith might not have survived his master’s fury.
While he waited, Malith studied the map of Medina on the table before him. He had never imagined the angels would flood their city as a means of defense, but fortunately Nekushtan had devised a simple method for them to proceed. Malith thought of summoning the ophidian demon as well and frowned when he realized he hadn’t seen or heard from the serpent in more than a day. He dispatched a messenger to request the demon lord’s presence.
When Molekh finally arrived, the bull-headed demon entered the tent without announcing himself and stared down at Malith. Fire gleamed in his nostrils as he silently regarded his mortal general, and his arms were tense and bulged with muscle as he crossed them over his massive chest. The demon lord had not forgotten the fate of his favored lieutenant, and Malith could feel the enmity radiating from the bull-headed creature.
“Have your scouts reported any sightings of the missing troops?” Malith asked without looking up from the map.
“I would have informed you if they had,” Molekh rumbled.
“Then we can afford to wait no longer,” Malith said, straightening. “Begin your assault as we discussed. Beware attacks from the water, and keep the air thick with bloodhawks, imps, and gremlins. Destroy anything holy on sight, and don’t stop for anything. I expect this will take several days, but the key now is to never let up. Grind away at the angels as we turn their beloved city to rubble, and bring victory to the demon king.”
“As you command, general,” Molekh said, and for once there was no mockery in his voice. The demon lord was eager to fight, and only prudence would keep him from leading the assault himself.
Malith dismissed him and studied the map further while waiting for Nekushtan to arrive. After an hour, he began to grow impatient. When two hours had passed, he was furious and strode from his tent with his sword already drawn. His messenger was just returning with a balrog hurrying behind him.
“Where is Nekushtan?” Malith demanded. “I asked for the demon lord, not one of his lackeys.”
“My lord general,” the balrog croaked in a barely discernible voice, “no one has seen Lord Nekushtan in a day. He said he was flying to speak with you, but never returned.”
Malith destroyed both the balrog and the imp messenger in a rage and looked around furiously for something else to obliterate.
“What is happening to my army?” he thundered as every demon within a hundred yards fled in terror. Malith singled out a drolkul and motioned for the four-armed demon to approach. The drolkul hesitated, then decided obeying was the best option to avoid destruction and knelt fearfully in front of Malith. Kneeling, the demon’s head was still even with Malith’s shoulders, but there was no question who was the superior.
“Send word to every army and every demon still loyal to Mephistopheles,” Malith said in a cold voice. “Khamuel, Iblis, Beelzebub, Azazel, and Nekushtan are all traitors and are to be destroyed on sight by any means necessary. Those following them are equally treacherous and will share their fate, as will anyone who spots them and does not report it immediately. Is that clear?”
“Yes, General Malith,” the drolkul said in a subdued voice.
Malith turned and stalked back to his tent. Even with the missing forces they would still be able to take the holy city, it would just take longer. After he presented the Throne of Heaven to Mephistopheles, he would take great pleasure in hunting down the treacherous demons and returning them to the demon king to receive his wrath.
His only regret was that Molekh was not among the traitors. His screams, Malith would truly relish.
- 2 -
Molekh stayed well back from the front lines as he began the assault, but he watched in pleasure as first one building, then another was reduced to so much rubble. The outermost structures were set upon by hordes of demons who flew over the lake of holy water and attacked the stone. Several minutes later, the building collapsed on one side and fell toward the waiting demons, creating a path over the water. Another soon followed, then another. The lake that had been created within the city was only a few stories deep, and the soaring buildings would provide ample material for the demon army’s impromptu bridges.
Some of the less fortunate demons and damned souls were swamped when the falling buildings sent waves rushing toward the infernal army, but few were destroyed outright by their incompetence. Ten buildings in all were felled to create pathways for the demons, and more were already being attacked farther into the city. As more and more buildings fell, they created a web of pathways over which the demon army swarmed like locusts.
Angels rained blue death from the skies and from within untouched buildings, shooting through windows at the unprotected demons below. At least a thousand paladins rose up from somewhere in the city and surged into the skies to attack the airborne demons, and small armies of mortals swarmed up from out of the water to attack the demons’ flanks before escaping back into the lake. Streams of blessed water poured into the ranks of the damned, knocking scores into embrace of the flooded city. Dozens of demons and damned souls died with every minute, but it did nothing to halt their advance. Molekh followed the bulk of his army, staying well back from the fore of their steady assault.
“Slow and steady is the way,” Molekh had told his lieutenants. “If we rush about like foolish mortals, they can lead us into traps and spring surprises on us. If we take the time to destroy everything in our path, we have the might to crush them beneath our feet and tear their city to the ground, leaving them no refuge from which to attack us.”
Elsewhere, he knew Nekushtan’s army was assaulting, probably with daring tactics that were more the serpent’s style. Lotan also led an army into the fray, and Molekh imagined the multi-headed demon was moving with even less speed than Molekh’s own army. Lotan had a rather limited intellect, and he would smash everything in sight solely for the purpose of destruction, whereas Molekh saw a valuable tactical advantage in depriving his enemies of shelter and concealment. Iblis’s forces were now under the command of an opportu
nistic balrog, but Molekh hadn’t bothered to remember the lesser demon’s name, if it even had one.
After he saw another wave of blessed souls surge out of the water to attack, Molekh summoned a gremlin messenger and ordered an airborne company bearing crossbows to advance. The next time the mortals attacked and retreated into what they thought was the safety of the lake, the airborne company unleashed a deadly storm of crossbow bolts marked with the unholy symbol. The cursed weapons sliced through the water and decimated the ranks of the aquatic forces, and Molekh laughed in pleasure as he saw them struggle to flee. Now the water worked against them, as few could move fast enough to escape the lethal aim of the demons hovering overhead. The bolts were not as effective as they should have been, thanks to the blessed waters, but they were more than enough to wreak havoc on their Heavenly foes.
“Pass word to the other armies of this tactic in case they lack ingenuity,” Molekh ordered a nearby imp, who sped off to carry the message. He turned to another messenger. “Inform General Malith of our progress so far and request he send in the Beast.”
That should keep more of the angels and airborne paladins occupied, he thought with satisfaction.
Another building toppled in the distance, and the destruction of Medina continued relentlessly.
- 3 -
It was inevitable that they would be discovered. With so many demons prowling the streets of Dis, the odds were too great that some would catch sight of such a large force trying to sneak through, but they dared not split the group any more than they already had lest they be easy prey for the marauding demons. Danner just wished they’d gotten a little further into the city before being discovered.
All the way through would have been nice, he griped silently as he sped down the street. He was nowhere near the buggy’s top speed – there were paladins and denarae running in front of him who would be run over, and others following him who would be left behind.
Satan's Gambit (The Barrier War Book 3) Page 56
