Demonified (Hawkblood Chronicles Book 1)

by Stephen Schultz

  “No,” Esselles replied. “Because he was polymorphed into my form.”

  “Is that so?” the guard asked. “And he looks just like you?”

  “Yes,” Esselles answered.

  “Then how do we know you aren’t the demon?” the guard asked, again eliciting a laugh from his partner.

  “This is getting nowhere,” Esselles said, trying to keep his exasperation from creeping into his voice. “Just send word for Captain Falconer. He’ll vouch for my identity.”

  “We’ve asked you once, nicely. Now move along.”

  “I will not move along. I need to see Captain Falconer. Now!” Esselles emphasized.

  “Move along or we will have you arrested,” the guard said.

  “Fine. Arrest me. Maybe then I’ll get to talk to a guardsman with half-a-brain.”

  The guard was beginning to show anger. “I’ll tell you one last time. Move along.”

  Esselles stepped forward. “And I’ll tell you one last time. I need to see Captain Falconer.”

  The guard lowered his pole arm in Esselles’ direction. Esselles lunged, grabbed the pole arm, and pulled the guard off-balance. He then pushed him back against the wall.

  The other guard lowered his pole arm, aiming the blade right at Esselles’ chest. Esselles took a step back and held up his arms.

  “Come on, you little bastard,” the guard said, reaching up to grab one of Esselles’ wrists. “I’m slapping you in irons.”

  It won’t be the first time, he thought.

  The guard led Esselles into the gatehouse and tossed him into one of the small rooms there. “Take him and lock him up,” he called to a guard in the next room. “Put him in irons. ‘Attacking a guardsman’ is the charge.” He shoved Esselles against the wall again. “We’ll see how you like the irons,” he said.

  Two other guards entered the room carrying shackles and chains. Esselles winced as he saw the shackles; duplicates of those Belgar and Renamir had put on him. He winced again as the shackles were clamped over the wounds on his wrists and hands.

  “Let’s go,” the guards said as they led him to the duty officer.

  “Batine!” Esselles exclaimed upon seeing the officer behind the desk.

  “Esselles?” Batine asked, quite confused. “What are you doing here? I thought you were working the Grand Hall today. Why are you here in shackles?”

  “He assaulted a guardsman,” Esselles’ jailer explained.

  “I needed to get inside,” Esselles said with a sheepish grin.

  “But I saw you inside already,” Batine said.

  “No, you didn’t. Not exactly,” Esselles said.

  “Explain,” Batine said, walking around his desk.

  “There is someone,” Esselles began, deciding it best to leave out mention of the demon, “who bears an incredible resemblance to me. He and his cohorts abducted me earlier this week and he has been impersonating me. I managed to escape and just arrived. But he is wearing my uniform and carrying my badge. I don’t know what they are up to, but I can make some pretty good guesses.”

  “I can too,” Batine said. “This is highly unusual. I saw you just an hour ago when I was in the Grand Hall.” He scrutinized Esselles. “He definitely looked like you. But then again, so do you.”

  “Look,” Esselles said, pulling up his uniform to reveal an old wound in his side. “Here’s the wound I received in the gromja attack. I imagine my impostor does not have the scar.”

  Batine examined the wound. “I remember that. I was there when they brought you in. If you aren’t you, you are a damn good resemblance.”

  “I’m me, Batine,” Esselles insisted. “The other me isn’t. We really don’t have a whole lot of time. Who knows what he is up to?”

  “So what do we do?” Batine asked, convinced enough of Esselles’ identity.

  “Remove these shackles,” Esselles said, holding his arms up. Batine signaled for the guard to remove the shackles. “Then I guess we go find me.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  The palace grounds were littered with performers practicing for their royal audience that evening. Jugglers, swordsmen, drama actors, and countless others were going over final rehearsals. The areas that were not open to the performers were clogged with the horses and carriages of the numerous visiting dignitaries. While the royal stables were to the right of the palace, that area was filled to overflowing with the additional horses and so the expansive front lawns were being used to house the additional carriages. The carriage men enjoyed the arrangement because it enabled them to watch the performers rehearse.

  The main roads were kept clear, so Batine and Esselles had no problem hurrying from the gatehouse to the front steps of the palace. There were four entrances to the castle proper. The main entrance was a large pillared entrance in the middle of the southern wall. The southeastern wall and the southwestern walls angled back and each had another large entrance in the middle. To the left, in the southwestern wall, was the ecclesiastical entrance, where there were a number of temples, including the headquarters for the Church of Ostar. To the right, in the southeastern wall, was the military entrance, where the headquarters of the various Ostarian military organizations were. Finally, around the back of the castle, on the northeastern wall, was the royal entrance, with its large carriage port and opening into the royal gardens.

  Esselles and Batine headed directly to the front entrance and checked in with the duty officer there. “Contact Celtab,” Batine said. “I need him to take over duty officer at the front gate.”

  “What’s up, sir?” the officer asked.

  “We have a second order alert, Sarlov. Begin spreading the word, but don’t alert the guests.”

  “What is the nature of the alert?” Sarlov asked, knowing he would need to pass the information on.

  “An intruder is on the grounds. He is dressed as a guardsman.”

  “Do you want to close the gates as part of the alert?” Sarlov asked.

  “Yes. After we go in, no others in or out until you receive orders. And that includes guards. Officers only, as the impostor is not an officer,” Batine explained.

  “Who is this with you, sir?” Sarlov asked.

  “This is Esselles Hawkblood, Fifth Division, Second Squad,” Batine answered. “He was the guard who detected the intruder.

  “Where’s his badge?”

  “The full details I do not have the time to go into, but the intruder is posing as him and wearing his badge,” Batine said.

  “Should I include that in the alert?” Sarlov asked.

  “Yes. Definitely. Although that will make it difficult for Esselles here to travel with me. I know this is an unusual request, Sarlov, but I need to borrow your badge to enable us to pass checkpoints quickly.”

  “How will I pass them?” Sarlov asked.

  “Here,” Batine said, removing his signet ring. “Show them this. Explain the situation. I am sure you will have no trouble.”

  Sarlov removed his badge and handed it to Esselles.

  “Thanks,” Esselles said, pinning it to his uniform.

  “Now, we must find Captain Falconer. Have you seen him recently?” Batine asked.

  “No, sir,” Sarlov answered. “He passed this way almost two hours ago, but I have not seen him since.”

  “If you see him, tell him we are looking for him in the Grand Hall.” Batine saluted and headed into the castle, Esselles following.

  Two checkpoints later, they reached the main receiving hall with its ornate water fountain. Mystical creatures blended together, climbing ever skyward, and a large dragon surmounted them all with its head trumpeting skyward. However, instead of spewing gouts of flame, its mouth shot a steady stream of water which arched gracefully under the high domed ceiling and splashed noisily back into the large collecting pool at the bottom. Unlike some of the famous works in the Mines of Dhurburg, which used Dwarven engineering to propel the water skyward, this fountain relied on magic. Water issued forth from numerous oth
er locations on the giant sculpture as well, from the tipped water jug of a young nymph, from the open mouth of a large serpent, as well as many others, some hidden within the depths of the sculpture.

  Although he generally stole a long look at the sculpture, Esselles hurried past it with hardly a notice. The far end of the hall ended in eight pillars, four on each side, which led away from the fountain. There was a hallway entrance between the spaces formed by pairs of pillars. Servants were hustling through the room as the kitchens were off to the left. Dignitaries and their guards also traveled through the room as many private meeting rooms were off the seven hallways.

  As they approached the guards there, the doors were closed. Word of the alert had already reached them. The guards opened the doors upon seeing the officer badges. Batine and Esselles hurried through and the guards closed the doors behind them.

  The hallway ran straight for about sixty feet, without a door on either side, then ended at another, even larger, hallway. This hallway went right and left and curved away in both directions.

  Batine asked the guards posted at the end of the hallway if they had seen Captain Falconer. Neither had seen him recently, but one had seen him enter the Grand Hall about half-an-hour earlier. Batine and Esselles hurried through the crowds toward one of the hallways that led to the Grand Hall.

  They were intercepted as they tried to enter the hallway.

  “You are not Sarlov,” one guard said.

  “No, he’s not,” Batine said. “He is Esselles Hawkblood. He is wearing Sarlov’s badge in order to get through the checkpoints. I need to get him in to see Captain Falconer. It is extremely important.”

  “Does this have to do with the alert?” the other guard asked, nodding his head toward the faint magical light that could be seen flashing above the doorway.

  “Yes, it does. I am the officer who called the alert.”

  The two guards stepped aside and let them pass.

  The hallway was not a conventional hallway. It was fifteen feet wide, made of arched glass. The glass was nearly a foot thick, but of remarkable clarity for glass. Outside the hallway were large gardens filled with numerous varieties of trees, bushes, and flowers. Streams and stone paths wove their way through the gardens and many people walked those paths. The hallway was very bright since the entire roof above the gardens was also made of glass and the bright noonday sun streamed in.

  About halfway down the glass hallways, they passed the doorways out into the gardens, one on each side. As with all the doorways, a guard stood at each one. Esselles and Batine ignored them and continued straight ahead, towards the Great Hall.

  Enclosed inside the large central gardens as it was, the Great Hall almost appeared as a building of its own. It was a large, circular structure with a hemispherical dome made of milky quartz. The glass ceilings of the gardens met the quartz dome just above the granite walls of the great hall.

  As they came closer to the great hall, the din began to rise. The doors were open wide and guards lined each side of the doorway. Beyond them was a wall of people. Countless tables were arranged within the large hall and servants scurried from table to table, making sure they were well stocked with food and drink. Meanwhile, a multitude of elegantly dressed people either sat at the tables or milled around the room, thousands of conversations going simultaneously. A groan escaped Esselles’ throat as he realized the difficulty in locating an individual in this room.

  Batine was craning his neck to see the far side of the room. Although the room was primarily circular, the north end of the hall jutted outward from the circle, and within that raised area was the royal portion of the hall. Twenty or so tables were arranged there and the royal thrown could be seen beyond them. There were a number of individuals in the royal area, but it was certainly not as crowded as the rest of the hall.

  “Good,” Batine said. “It seems the royal entourage is not here at the moment. Less danger should something break out. Do you see Falconer anywhere? Or yourself for that matter?”

  Esselles finished his scan of the room. “No. But I was supposed to be working the hall at this time, assigned to Baron Toliver. Of course, that means I could be anywhere the baron decided he wanted to go.”

  “True,” Batine agreed. “Wait, I think I see Suregrave Clyne, he may know where Falconer is.”

  Batine led Esselles through the crowd. Esselles noted that as they were squeezing through the crowd, he was drawing a number of stares as his uniform was not a proper dress uniform for this occasion, nor was it very well maintained.

  As they neared the Suregrave, Batine asked Esselles to wait a moment while he went to talk to the Uranthian military leader. Batine approached but did not interrupt the Suregrave’s conversation. Instead, he stood at attention in the Suregrave’s vision and waited.

  “Excuse me a moment,” the Suregrave said to the noble next to him. Stepping aside and turning to Batine, he asked in a quiet voice, “What might I do for you, sergeant?”

  “Sir, we have a second order alert. There is an intruder in the castle posing as a member of the guard. He is believed to be armed and dangerous. We need to locate Captain Falconer. Do you know of his location?”

  “The last I knew, Falconer and a few of his guard escorted the Urigrave to the council room where he was meeting with a number of the barons,” the Clyne told him.

  “How long ago was that?” Batine asked.

  “Not more than twenty minutes ago.”

  While Batine was talking to the Suregrave, Esselles continued to scan the crowd. Suddenly, he noticed a strange tingling sensation in his head. It was like nothing he had ever experienced. He would have brushed it off as his imagination, except that it happened a second and third time. He realized when he turned his head in a certain direction, it was amplified. He not only could feel the strange tingle, but he could also just make out a murmur in his ears.

  He covered his ears to try to block out some of the noise and concentrated on the sound in his ears. He could just make out a voice saying, “Yes, my lady would…..make it today. However, she is ill and……going around.” There was a slight pause, then the voice continued. “I will convey your regards. The Lord and Lady Malik are…”

  Esselles’ head shot up. That was a name Belgar had used! Esselles moved in the direction he seemed to be hearing the voice and saw Renamir turn towards him at the same time, a shocked look on his face.

  “I’m hearing his thoughts,” Esselles said out loud.

  Renamir’s mouth snapped shut and he excused himself from whomever he was talking to.

  “Holy shit!” Esselles exclaimed. “He must be hearing mine too.” He turned partway toward Batine and called for him loudly, but he was too far away to be heard over the crowd. “Batine, I see one of them,” he called out again.

  Renamir was scurrying out of the room, toward the gardens. He looked back at Batine, who was still talking with the Suregrave, then back at Renamir’s retreating form. He yelled out Batine’s name again, and then turned to pursue Renamir.

  *

  Batine turned at the call of his name and saw Esselles moving towards one of the doors. Batine looked ahead of Esselles but did not see either Landir or an Esselles look-alike.

  “What is it?” Clyne asked.

  “I’m not sure. Guardsman Hawkblood is hurrying out the door, but I do not know why,” Batine answered.

  “He is headed toward the royal meeting halls. We’d best give chase.” The Suregrave removed the restraining strap from his scabbard as he turned to follow Esselles.

  “Should we elevate to a third order alert?” Clyne asked as they neared the doorway.

  “No, not until we find out what Hawkblood is up to,” Batine said.

  When they reached the hallway, they found the two guards collapsed on the floor.

  “Thank the gods,” the guard said upon seeing the two officers approaching. “Someone just magically attacked us and ran through. We can’t move our legs.”

  “Was he in a g
uardsman uniform?” Clyne asked.

  “No. He was a guest,” the guard said. “But someone in a guardsman uniform gave chase. I didn’t get a good look, but I thought he was wearing Sergeant Sarlov’s badge, but it wasn’t Sarlov.”

  “Come on,” Clyne said to Batine as he raced past.

  “We’ll send help,” Batine said to the fallen guard and his companion.

  *

  Esselles was gaining on Renamir as Renamir was trying to avoid attracting undue attention. Esselles had hesitated, passing the fallen guardsmen, but he knew he had to catch Renamir and try to foil whatever plot he had devised.

  Renamir had ducked into the gardens and Esselles followed. Unfortunately, the thick gardens provided enough cover that Renamir could run. Esselles nearly lost him a couple times, but was able to locate him through the mental link. But to do so, he had to pause to concentrate and thus, Renamir was able to slip out of the gardens, well ahead of Esselles.

  *

  “There he is,” Batine said, pointing at Esselles, who was standing on a stone bridge, his hand on his head, unmoving.

  “What’s he doing?” Clyne asked.

  “I have no idea.”

  “Can he cast magic?!” Clyne asked, crashing through a hedgerow in order to head straight toward Esselles’ position. The crash attracted Esselles’ attention and he turned to face the two. He then turned and bolted out into the hallway and headed left.

  “I don’t know,” Batine answered. “I’ve never known him to.”

  “You don’t think this could be the impostor?” Clyne asked.

  “I didn’t think so, but I’m not so sure now,” Batine answered.

  *

  Ahead of him, Esselles heard two swords clatter to the ground. He sprinted around the large corridor, surprisingly devoid of people, and stopped as he came to two guards, slumped on the ground. Renamir was nowhere to be seen.

  Esselles paused at the intersection and concentrated again. He found the link to Renamir further down the corridor ahead and was about to head that way when his mind was bathed in an intense wash of hatred, hunger, and blood lust. He looked at the hallway to his right and saw that it led to the King’s council chambers.